#‘i don’t need to wait for someone to save my family fuck you’

[elvain]

morwen eledhwen my BELOVED she deserved so much better 😭😭😭😭 what a fucking woman

[nikkento-writes]

Babysitter - Part 1

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink

Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.

Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.

It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 

Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?” 

You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”

He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”

Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”

You smile at her. “It’s okay.”

She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”

He scratches his head. “Huh?”

“Megumi. Our child.”

He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.” 

While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”

She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”

She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“Sure.”

“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”

“Huh?!” 

She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”

You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…

~~~

The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy. 

Toji, on the other hand, is another story. 

You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you. 

But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?

On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas. 

When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”

“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby. 

He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”

“Yes, of course. Sir.”

For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”

You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence. 

Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”

You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”

He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”

You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”

“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”

~~~

This is bad. Very, very bad. 

You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.

“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”

You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”

His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time. 

After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with. 

He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho. 

“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.” 

And apparently, so are you. 

“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”

He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.

Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job. 

~~~

You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working. 

The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.” 

“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen. 

“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”

As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking. 

[nevernonline]

✧.* must love dogs; csc one shot.

✧.* synopsis: after a breakup (three years ago) your friend finally attempts to get you back on the saddle by creating you a dating profile despite your protesting, hooking you up on dates with some of the eligible bachelors of their choice, none of which impressed you. until one day you met the boy with the dog.

part of my seventeen movie series.

paring: seungcheol x reader (y/n uses she/her pronouns.)

genre/s: fluff, strangers2lovers

warning/s: alcohol mentions, swearing, cigarette mentions, swearing, some pg-13 jokes.

word count: 3.7k

note: im notorious atp for not editing, pls. I hope you enjoy my lil must love dogs inspired fic, its one of my fav movies!! xo.

“So how was bachelor number five?” 

With a roll of your eyes, you gazed at your friend Seungkwan resting his feet on top of your shared glass coffee table, ticking the tip of the city guide book and magazines rested on top. 

“Boring. He was nice or whatever, good looking, but he wouldn’t shut up about league of legends and his job. Other than that he asked me no questions about myself or what I do. A failure as most would call it.” 

“So I take it you wouldn’t want to go out with him again?” 

“God, whatever gave you that impression? I thought you could tell we were headed for marriage?” 

“Hey. I’m doing you a very nice thing, you don’t have to be so sarcastic about it.” 

“Look, I know. But just because Jun is getting married and I still haven’t moved on doesn’t mean I need to be dating all of the sudden.” 

The boy patted the seat next to him. Scooching over from his spot, making room for you on the couch. 

“ It’s been nearly three years since you ended it with him. At least fuck someone before you dry up.” 

“That’s fucking gross and what vibrators are for.” 

A small scream left your friend's mouth as he covered his ears trying to remove what he had just heard coming out of your mouth. 

“Y/n his wedding is in two months, we need to find someone to bring that’s not me. You don’t want to feel the embarrassment of his pity party and everyone feeling sorry for you.” 

“Why can’t you just be my date?” 

“Too obvious. Plus your whole family will be there, just do it or you know your parents will be in your case again. This ‘ secret man’ you’ve been seeing doesn’t exist and I think your Mom is starting to catch on.” 

He was right. Your parents come from a high status, as do your ex boyfriends, they were the reason you both had met and became friends in the first place. But, when your relationship ended you lied to them, it was working well until you got a call from your very upset mother telling you Jun showed up to your house with his family and a girl on his arm that wasn’t you. 

“Okay, then why can’t I choose my own date?” 

“The men you chose to quote on quote date are literally disturbing, I’m sorry but it’s the truth. Like that one dude you brought here last time? Whatever the fuck his name was literally was wearing a necklace vial of his own blood and claimed drinking your own urine and reusing water is the only way we can save the planet.” 

“Okay, but he was nice.” 

“He literally didn’t flush the toilet because he only went number one. That’s fucked, no.” 

“Can I at least, like at the very least have some approval over the men you match me with then?” 

“Maybe.” 

“ Kwanie, please. Come on, don’t make me use the what goes around card, it’s my turn” 

“No, it's absolutely my turn.” 

“Not true, you wasted it two months ago when I had to bail you out of that strange house party orgy thing by saying your dog died and coming in crying to a bunch of naked strangers. You owe me.” 

“Valid.” 

“How did you not realize what that party was anyway?” 

“This is not currently about my life failures, but yours my beautiful friend.” 

Laughing at Seungkwan's major mishap, you forgot to greet your dog, Lucky. She was waiting and crying at your feet, finally waking up from her sweet slumber to greet you. 

“Hello my baby, do we have to go outside?” 

“She went for a walk this afternoon, but after her dinner she crashed so she probably wants a walk. I can go if you want to change or shower.” 

“No it’s alright, I can take her, you're already in your pj’s and after my date I need a distress, want anything from the mart?” 

“Ice cream?” 

With a small nod you jumped up, taking the small curly creature in your arms and grabbing her harness before heading back outside into the warm spring air. 

Ten minutes into your evening stroll, you decided to sit on the green wooden bench overlooking the water, the same bench your grandmother always spoke about when you asked her the same story about how she and your grandfather got engaged. The gold plaque with their names rubbing off sitting behind your back. 

Suddenly you heard a man yelling from behind you, running through the green grass lit up with fluorescent lights. 

“Hey, Kkuma, no come back.” 

A small white dog came up behind Lucky sniffing her and starting to play, you noticed her cute hairclip and ran your hands through her fur. 

“God, I’m sorry. She normally doesn’t run off like that.” 

“It’s okay my dog lov-“ 

As you turned around to look into the round eyes of the owner, you were stunned with how beautiful he was. 

His dark hair pushed under a cap, a white t-shirt too big for his frame sitting beautifully in his toned shoulders, and his red sweatpants matching his shoes. 

The unfamiliar man was bending down now petting your precious pet and his own at the same time talking to them in sweet baby voices. 

“This is Kkuma by the way, and you are?” 

“Y/N” 

“Hi y/n, you’re so cute, you and kkuma can be best friends if your mom lets you.”

You let out a roaring laugh realizing he thought you had introduced your pet and not yourself.

“Oh sorry, did I say something wrong?”

“No, no. It’s just I’m y/n this is Lucky sorry my fault.” 

“Oh god, cool. Sorry Lucky, I’m Seungcheol. You can call me Cheol and this is Kkuma.” 

“Nice to meet you Cheol and Kkuma.” 

“You too. Look I know I just met you and all, but I’m new to the area. I was wondering if you’d want to get coffee and let the girls hangout sometime?” 

“Oh. Yeah, of course. Let me give you my number.” 

Seungcheol handed you his cell phone with a new contact page pulled up giving you full reign to type your name and number into his list. 

Handing the device back to him your fingers touched, creating an electric shock, to not like you to believe in signs, but for some reason it felt like the universe trying to tell you something. 

“Thank you, I’ve actually got to get going, but if you're free tomorrow would you want to grab coffee and hangout at the dog park?” 

“Yeah, totally. Just text me a time, we can just meet here. What kind of coffee do you drink? There’s a good spot by my apartment. I can just pick it up for us.” 

“Wow, that’s so nice of you. Just a black americano is cool or a cold brew whichever.”

“No fun I see.”

“How would you know that? Just because I don’t like sugary drinks doesn’t mean I can’t have fun.” 

“I don’t know, we will see.” 

“We will. I’ll catch you tomorrow girls.” 

“Nice to meet you.” 

“You too!” 

Seungcheol left the same way he came running through the grass with Kkuma on his heels, following him all the way back to their home. 

Strolling back down the pathway back to your apartment, you could help but feel butterflies in your stomach, you knew nothing about the man you just met other than his name and his cute dog, but there was a lot of unknown. 

Smiling like a Cheshire Cat, you unlocked the front door and watched Lucky sprint back into Seungkwan lounging on the couch, eating for the ice cream you had forgotten. 

“Where’s the snacks? Also why are you smiling like an idiot you’re freaking me out.” 

“We met a guy with his dog, a very cute guy might I add, who actually asked for my number and wants to get coffee tomorrow.” 

“ What the fuck, it’s late tell me he doesn’t live in the park?” 

“No he said he just moved to the area, he was clearly not a park dweller he had keys, and smelt amazing actually.”

“Smelling strangers? A new low even for you”

“Oh my god, fuck off.” 

Seungkwan pulled his phone out and opened various social media apps preparing himself for best friend stalking duties. 

“What’s his name?”

“Seungcheol, not sure about his last name, but he goes by Cheol and his dog was Kkuma.” 

“Great.. okay, found him I assume?”

“What the fuck, how? Let me see.”

“Eager aren’t we?”

“Fuck off?” 

Grabbing Seungkwan's phone from his grip, you scroll quickly through the new faces' social media.

“Yeah, it’s him.” 

“Okay, let me see. Wait, he's actually hot AND seems to have his own business?” 

“Oh my god.”

“Here, look” 

After the next few hours, you and your friend stumble on into your separate rooms preparing yourself for slumber, which never seems to reach you and before you know it dawn is creeping its way through your curtains, and your backup preparing yourself for a day with you and Lucky's new friends. 

Something about your energy was excitable and nearing frantic, you could wait to step outside into the fresh air with your pocket sized princess at your side, but it was still early. 

You had decided on pampering yourself for this morning, finding the need to make yourself up, you spread on your skin care with glee, drew perfect lines of eyeliner and strained your hair, pulling it up into a nice tight ponytail the hair tie matching the taupe tone of your sweat suit perfectly.  Before you knew it it was 9:45 a perfect time for you and Lucky to step outside the door. 

Placing her in her tote bag, you stepped inside of your favorite coffee shop, the light pink walls covered in photos and paintings, the smell of the espresso seemed sweeter. 

“Morning, y/n you look beautiful today. Would you like the usual?”

“Thank you, for me, yes. But can I also get a large americano, just black and he didn’t tell me iced or hot, so iced is good I think? Or maybe hot with a cup of ice on the side? If that’s okay?” 

“He? Did you finally start dating someone?” 

“Oh no, just a friend of mine. Seungkwan told you shit about me didn’t he?” 

“Yes. Sorry.”  

“No worries, can I actually get two of the plain croissants and two of the flower dog cookies too?” 

“No problem, it’ll be right out.” 

“Thank you.” 

Taking a seat next to the pick up counter you scrolled through the instagram of the boy you’re meant to be meeting, telling yourself it’s just to remember his face, but really it was to get a peek into what else he’s into or if he was single. 

“Y/N” 

“Oh shit, sorry. Thank you guys, see you tomorrow.” 

Picking up the paper coffee carrier and pastry bag, you waved goodbye to the baristas and briskly walked back to the bench you were at yesterday, your bench, spotting the back of Seungcheol’s head watching the water with his dog. 

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” 

“Oh, no problem. I just got here.” 

Placing your items down on the bench, you freed her bag and greeted Kkuma alongside her before taking your seat. 

“Here’s your coffee, I wasn’t sure if you wanted hot or iced so I got you a cup of ice too just in case, a croissant, and a little treat for your girl too.” 

“Wow thank you so much, hot is fine actually. How are you?” 

“Good, nervous. I mean it’s not every day you meet a stranger for coffee.” 

Seungcheol laughed, tipping his head back slightly before taking a bite of his pastry. 

“Sorry. I know it’s weird, you just seemed like someone I wanted to get to know, and Kkuma liked you so I figured you’re good people.” 

“Well, thank you. You too. Lucky generally does not like men other than my friend Seungkwan, my dad, and my ex-boyfriend so consider yourself special.”

“I do.”

“So what brought you to this neighborhood? Work, a relationship?”

“No relationship, but actually my business partner is from here. We decided to open our warehouse and stuff here because it’s much better than doing it in the city. We have a spirit company and we’re planning on opening a brewery and bar, so that’s why I’ve been working late nights. I guess it served me well, I made a friend on my first day.”

“You’ve only been here for a full day? What the hell? You already know the best spot in town. What kind of stuff do you guys make?”

“Beer and soju mainly, we’ve been working on it for five years now and are finally at a spot to open up and start selling it to people, which is cool. But what about you? What do you do?” 

“I’m a medical student actually, my parents are both doctors, I used to really want to be one too, but I don’t know, I don’t really have the same passion for it as I used to.”

“Well what would you do if you had the choice?”

“I always wanted to design stuff for dogs, start a rescue, anything like that. I got so happy seeing Kkuma as an accessory girl.”

“Yeah, she’s very stylish. I think you should go for it, you know? Why waste time becoming something for someone else and risk being unhappy just for their sake?”

“Honestly I wouldn’t even know how to start a business on my own, let alone tell my parents.”

“Hey, I didn’t either and look where it’s gotten me.”

You turned back to the water, staring into the calm blue waters, trying not to go into your own head. 

“You’re oddly inspiring, I’ll give you that much.”

“Thank you, y/n. You’re oddly sassy, I’ll give you that.”

“Shut up, I’m not.”

“You already tried to clock me by saying I’m no fun because I drink black coffee and you said oddly inspiring like a back handed compliment. You definitely are, but I like it. 

“Good.”

You had continued your twice weekly hangouts with Kkuma and her dad for two weeks now, getting excited whenever the days roll around to see the two of them again, but you haven’t hung out once without them around, which made you wonder if your friendship or crush rather on this boy was only due to your dogs being friends themselves. 

Seungkwan tried setting you up on more and more dates with more and more duds, he was starting to lose hope himself, knowing that the one person he could set you up with was Seungcheol but he didn’t want to overstep. 

Strolling home from another failed connection, you decide to stop and have a beer before going home to give the dirty details to Seungkwan about who you had just met. 

Pulling open the tab of one of your drinks from your six pack, you took a deep breath and sat down, feeling your eyes welling up with tears. 

Another can opened as you went to take the first sip. A hand comes on your shoulders, whispering a boo in your ears. 

“What the fuck!” 

Jumping up from your seat the hand on your shoulder belonged to Seungcheol, the look in his eyes went from happy to concerned as he saw the small streaks of tears on your cheeks, you top now dribbled with spots of beer. 

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Want a beer?”

“Sure, thanks. I’m sorry I scared you, I thought you heard me behind you.”

“It’s alright, I was in my own world anyway. You look nice, where are you headed?”

“Soft opening for my bar actually, I texted you, but I figured you didn’t respond because you were busy.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I would’ve loved to come. I was a bit preoccupied on an awful fucking date.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

“Well the good news is you technically didn’t miss it, it doesn’t start for another twenty minutes and you’re dressed very nice. It worked out. 

“Fuck I wish I paid more attention, I could’ve got you some flowers or something.”

“Next time. Will your roommate be alright taking care of Lucky?”

“Yeah of course, he knew I would be out tonight. I’ll text him just to be sure.”

“Cheers to hanging out without our kids?”

“Definitely.”

With that suddenly your awful night and doubts about your relationship with the raven haired boy went out the window. 

“Shall we?”

“We shall.” 

Seungcheol lent his arm out for you to wrap your own around, and you both stayed out that way for a few moments, before discarding your cans and walking the way to his new venture. 

“Here it is, you ready?”

“When you told me you were opening this up I thought you hadn’t even started? But it looks like it’s fully ready.” 

“Ah, well we had planned to wait a bit, but we’re getting too antsy, so here we are.”

“It’s beautiful, holy shit.” 

“Thanks, sit here, I’ll be right back.”

You took a seat on the green leather booth, looking around and taking in the ambiance of the custom lighting and ribbon like wallpaper, when a blonde gentleman walked over sitting down across from you. 

“Y/n? Right?”

“Yeah, nice to meet you…”

“Jeonghan, I’m Cheol’s business partner.”

“Jeonghan, right. Nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot.”

“Likewise, you’re so much prettier than Cheol let on actually.”

“Oh?”

Without a chance to interrogate the new face further Seungcheol walked back over to your table, setting down a few bottles of various spirits for you to try, including a couple of cocktails. 

“He didn’t scare you too much did he?”

“Not at all, he was just telling me actually how much prettier I am than you alluded to.”

“Jeonghan, don’t do that to her, come on. You know very well I told you she was pretty, I even showed you her instagram, you agreed.”

“I know, I just wanted to make you tell her yourself and my job is done, see you around y/n.”

“Nice to meet you.”

As Jeonghan left the table you felt your cheeks growing with heat, unsure if it was the alcohol or the fact that Seungcheols friend made him confess he thought you were good looking. 

“Sorry about him, he’s a menace.”

“No need to be sorry, I have my own menace at home and I don’t mean my dog.”

Seungcheol laughed, pouring you a shot of his very own soju to taste, filling with anticipation hoping you enjoy the drink he’s serving you, looking for your approval became a big part of his mind lately. 

Lifting your glass up to his and clinking them together, the liquor poured down the back of your throat filling your mouth with sweetness and warmth. 

“Holy shit.”

“Good holy shit or bad holy shit?”

“No, very good. That’s actually delicious. It’s so clean and fresh.”

“That makes me so happy to hear.”

“I’m happy you’re happy.”

“Okay, beer next. This is just a standard sour, some lime and sea salt, sort of beach vibes.” 

“Sounds amazing, okay.”

Tipping your head back you sipped at the foamy top of the glass, savoring the flavors in your mouth. 

“I hate you so much.”

“What? Why?”

“Seungcheol, you're way too humble when you talk about your business, this shit is amazing. I said I hate you because I’m going to crave this shit and I’ll have to see you all the time.” 

“I thought you liked seeing me all the time?”

“You’re okay.”

“I have to say it’s cool to be here with you without the dogs, not that they distract too much, but they definitely take away giving you my full attention.”

“I mean how could they not, they’re cute as fuck,”

“So are you.”

“Wow, two drinks in Cheol and you’re already calling me cute? I wonder what else you’ll say the more you drink?"

“Technically we’re four drinks in, but I guess I remember the time I spent with you more than you do. Did those drinks on the bench mean nothing to you?”

“Oh fuck, I did forget. I guess technically I’m five drinks in then, catch up, bitch.”

You and Seungcheol spent the rest of the night being greeted by his friends, most of them already assuming who you were, letting you know that Seungcheol talks about you more than you realized. 

Feeling your blood alcohol content rising, you decided to take a step outside and refresh. 

The bell of the door opened up behind you, putting you face to face with his cherry lips once again, watching them light up a hand rolled cigarette to his lips. 

“Doing okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to step out for a second. Are you good?”

“Very. Want a cig?”

“No, I’m good for now. Ask me again later.” 

“So will there be a later? You’re not ditching me now?”

“I’d never do that.”

“So, y/n does this maybe get me a chance to take you on a date? I’m kind of drunk so I’m feeling oddly bold.” 

“Is this not sort of a date?”

“I was hoping you thought so. Is that a yes?”

“Absolutely. I thought you’d never ask.”

“Before we go on our date though, y/n. I have one final question?” 

“Yes?” 

“Do you still think I’m boring?” 

“A little.” 

Seungcheol grabbed your waist and spun you around, causing his perfectly rolled tobacco to fall on the sidewalk. 

Blissfully you were giggling and laughing under the red led lights of his bar. 

“Take it back.” 

“Nope.” 

“Please.” 

You looked into his puppy dog eyes and did something out of your comfort zone. Wrapped your hands loosely around his neck, placing a deepened kiss onto his lips. 

His mouth tasted of cigarettes and salt with a hint of vanilla from the lip balm he always had on him. 

“Is that a good ‘sorry I called you boring’ kiss?” 

“It’ll do for now.” 

“Good. They’ll be more where that came from.” 

“Promise?” 

“Pinky promise.” 

You and Seungcheol unwrap from each other, finding Jeonghan standing and  cheering in the window watching the two of you. 

“Can’t believe I got a hot date and a sister for Kkuma all in one.” 

“You lucky dog.” 

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 9)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things 📍 Part 10 - Good Deeds

Part 9 - Shiny Things

Ephi moves in, and Ruth reads you like an open book.

「Warnings/Promises: HumanAlastor x Fem! BurlesqueReader, Reference to domestic abuse of non-reader character, fucks, crows, swans, emotions be emotioning, so many birds, I don’t think reader is Aromantic I think she’s just stubborn, Cliff diving is just a joke do not follow people off cliffs, everyone is kicking reader’s ass in some way, my apologies to parts of Texas but not Texas as a whole」

Long time no see ! My head wasn’t in the right space for this story, and my head was also literally not doing well. But! Reading glasses helped since I’m writing on my phone like 7 inches from my face. the goal is Wednesday updates~ there’s about four parts already written so we’ve got a month of runway 👌🏼 Wednesday mornings are ‘God, That’s Good’ by @macabr3-barbi3 and nights are ADIF!

🎶 last time on A Doe In Fall 🎶 : you came home from your first week staying officially at Alastor’s to find your estranged sister waiting on your stoop.

this isn’t sexy but just like minors come on, MDNI? This blog is a sex shop

It’s not that you hated your sister, it’s that you resented her. You could love someone and not like them an ounce… but unfortunately when she left so did your familial love. Which meant all that held you together now was distrust and an obligation to a dead woman. 

“So things didn’t pan out up north?” You waved her into your apartment, agitation apparent in even the gesture of your arm. 

“It’s peachy! Just need to lay low a bit.” She said it with a chipper voice while looking around your apartment like she paid for it. “Wow you weren’t lying about the no money, huh? Talk about a shoebox.”

Charming. 

“Well, Ephi, you’re welcome to leave.” While you didn’t understand the name it wasn’t your business to question what someone asked to be called. Especially considering your own dual identity. You may have disliked the woman but human decency still hung to the bones of the relationship you called your sisterhood.

An obnoxious chuckle, “Nah it’ll do! Just the one single bed?”

“Why would I have more than one bed?”

A deep sigh from her, “Still last to be picked by the fellas, sis?” Her hand passed over your dresses hanging in the open closet, “The ugly duckling was always your favorite story.”

The fine hairs rose on the back of your neck, a cat’s hackles moving as the anger bristled through your body. You opened your mouth to shout all the ways you were not the ugly one in the room, hand already in the air to direct her attention to the dried, hanging flowers covering the far wall. How many people threw flowers at her feet? How many proposals were shouted to her? Wedding rings slipped off fingers and into pockets for her? 

The air in your lungs went flat as a small fire of embarrassment rose in your gut.

How could she so quickly reduce you to a little girl again? Taking the bait for a fight you couldn’t win, because she wasn’t listening to anything but her own voice. Biting the inside of your cheek, your hand fell back to your side.

“You can take it. I’ll just be by for clothes now and then. Been staying with a friend closer to work.” Flipping through your mind you tried to catalog your valuables. What did you absolutely need to not turn up missing?

Ephi sat on the bed and crossed her legs in her best imitation of a lady. “Staying with Mister Fancy Pants?” A smile that reminded you of your childhood. A smile that said, “I won’t tell mom!” Right before turning and running to your mother’s ear.

“No.” 

A giggle two octaves above her usual tone, “Sure, okay! No skin off my back.”

You took your time to gather the items you had forgotten first, then the items you didn’t want her to have. Unsure how exactly to tell Alastor why a week into sharing his home officially you were already redecorating, you left that for your future self to figure out. The first item was obvious.

An angel statue your mother kept on her nightstand. You wrapped it in some newspaper, trying not to look in her direction. 

Your sister chased dick like most people chased liberty. Something she shared with your mother. Which was her right, but it rubbed you the wrong way how she would always forget everyone else in her life when she had a man to call her own. A fair weather friend, at that. 

“How’s Howard?” The dick that took her away so many years ago.

She abandoned the lady act and rummaged through your cabinets, “Who’s that?”

Right.

A gold coin on a necklace. You slipped it inside a sock. 

“So, then, who is the man of the hour?”

Ephi began opening the dresser drawers, poking here and there. “Whaddya mean! I am an independent woman.”

You weren’t sure that had ever been true. While your mother had drilled it into your skull to never place yourself in the need of a man, she always seemed to throw her heart (and house keys and purse strings…) at the feet of any man willing to love her. 

“Love” her. 

There was no love in any of that. A common problem of confusing love with any and all intense emotions affected your mother and many others.

Slashed furniture is not adoration. Breaking windows is not a love language. Bruises are not affection.

Your hands ran down the bag’s shapeless sides. Without thinking, you smiled. Adoration. Love languages. Affection. You had them and the knowledge of their secrets all to yourself. 

Secrets you didn’t need slipping out. Secrets your sister couldn’t hold to save her life, or yours for that matter. You hurried around the room grabbing knick-knacks and photos and jewelry. Alastor would be at work soon, you wondered if you should call to warn him. This time not about a hot headed flatfoot but a nosey sibling.

You’d tell him later. No reason to talk to Brenda again. Quickly your leather bag got full and heavy. What was supposed to be a casual foray into sharing a home already turning into a full on move. 

Everything you needed and a few things no one ever would, because damn would Ephi pawn them the very second she needed something, were safely zipped away. Any plans to relax at home before work were abandoned and you just marched to the door. 

A random memory flashed behind your eyes,  washing Alastor’s hair in the tub until the water ran clear. Why now? The only memory shared in your apartment. And it was an awful one. But, it had Alastor. That gave it value. 

“Hey, if any men come by looking for me you just don’t answer, okay?” You forced your face to relax, to show the sincerity you worked so hard to keep to yourself, “Please, Ephi.”

Her smile widened past unnaturally white teeth, no money for a room but clearly cash for peroxide tooth gel, “Ooh, why? Little sister make some enemies?”

Why couldn’t she just fucking agree?

“My job sometimes attracts crazies. I don’t tell them where I live but occasionally they figure it out. They’ve gotten violent before so…just don’t answer the buzzer. They’ll say they’re damn near anyone to get you to let them up.” You stopped the nervous twisting of your bag’s handle, “Boyfriend, boss, detective. They've tried it all.”

“Aww, sis. Look at you.” She leaned her full figure against the open door frame, arm raised up like a pin up. Ephi was always effortlessly enchanting when her mouth was closed. “Stalkers? Mama would be so proud. Finally learning how to catch a man’s attention.”

The tears that stung your eyes were inspired partly by anger and partly by pain. They came so suddenly you could only laugh in response. 

“Lovely to see your new name hasn’t changed you, Ephi. I’ll be back occasionally. Don’t steal anything, no strangers over. Spare key is in the bowl by the door.” 

“Oh hey!” 

You turned back.

“I do need some cash. Until I find work.”

The numbness blanketed you with a chill. 

“I’ve got like, three bucks. Is that fine?”

Why did you ask that? You knew she could very well say it wasn’t fine and you’d be obligated to offer to get more. Atleast, that’s what you’d have done when you were younger. How easily you both slipped into old roles. Or perhaps she never grew out of hers. 

She mulled it over, “Yeah that’ll be fine.” Her hand came out and waited for the bills.

An open palm waiting for your money.

You pulled the folded bills from your wallet and set them in her hand without touching her skin. 

“Thanks sis!” She turned and closed the door before you could reply.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The other dancers shot you a look when your bag jingled and clanked as it hit the floor, you wincing as you remembered the ceramic figurine.

“You…. going somewhere, hun? The detective got you on something?”

A quick shake of your head. You hadn’t considered the optics. Luckily it was early enough the room wasn’t very busy. A few select missing women would have pried for more information. Your hands fidgeted, unsure what to do. On the way in you saw some newer talent getting their feet on stage, maybe watch them? Too early for make up. 

A loving voice from Ruth, always a savior, “Cigarette?”

You melted at the offer. Alastor wasn’t a fan of the smell so you were slyly cutting back. 

She popped a sun bleached folding chair open and set it in between you both as a footrest. So many broken and ruined chairs littered the sides of the dingy roof, you were shocked she found a good one on her first try.

“Alright, tell me what happened with that detective. Do I need to go rough up a city employee?” Ruth leaned back and settled into her chair with a creak and a whine of the wood.

You needed a second, eyes flitting around as she handed her cigarette for you to take a drag. What could you say? What did she already know? You’d not spoken about it since she helped shoo him away but the appearance of half your belongings haphazardly stuffed into a bag clearly had her alarms going off. 

“So remember the guy who came by for me? Tall handsome one.”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! Of course. Don’t forget a name like his. Or face.” She whistled like a crude man trying to get a woman’s attention in the most annoying way.

“The detective thinks he did something to Tommy. That he was jealous. Which is ridiculous-,” you felt a nervous energy slip down your arms. 

An abrupt laugh, “That string bean couldn’t open a heavy window. He didn’t do shit to Tommy. What a stupid thing to say.”

Did she notice how much you’d been holding your breath? A deep sigh as you let it go. “Exactly! He doesn’t even know about what happened that night with that guy and Tommy’s arrangement; it’s too mortifying. Anyway, the detective has been hounding me about it. I don’t wanna cause trouble.” You ashed the cigarette and held it out for her, “Stuff is still new with him and me, so I didn’t tell the detective his details or work anything. Why would I? So he can harass him too?” The words all tumbled out so quickly. A faucet turned too far to the left.

“Fair.” A few passes back and forth in what you hoped was a comfortable silence and not an indication she was piecing together things you needed to remain unlinked. Finally, “Didn’t realize you two were still seeing each other. Longest one you’ve kept for awhile now.”

Looking up, you marveled at the view of the open sky. Not a cloud in sight. A smile crept across your face, the heat of the sun warming you from the inside out. The slightest chill to the air warning you of Fall. “Yeah.”

She asked what made him so special and you didn’t know where to start. “The obvious,” you began. “He’s so-,”

“Clever.” “Handsome.”

You’d spoken at the same time, her attempt at soothsaying failing miserably.

“Clever, Ruth. He’s very clever. Handsome men are a dime a dozen. But he’s sharp as a tack.” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand around for you to go on. You let your mind toss out the shiniest examples. “He’s so skilled. He knows how to hunt and take apart animals. He can fish. Cooks like a dream. He knows how to clean clothes well and how to use a washing board.” 

“Useful.” She mused. That isn’t what you meant. You weren’t trying to list off his features like a new appliance. It was just— impressive. He was well rounded.

“And he’s terribly kind. He’s always,” how to say it delicately, “going out of his way to help others solve their problems.” That seemed accurate and vague enough. You chuckled to yourself, remembering him at the kitchen table, “His face lights up so bright when he’s talking about his hobbies. Like, I can see his soul glittering behind his eyes and suddenly I’m just as interested in whatever he’s talking about as he is.” You let your eyes close around the mental image of his surprised face every time you complimented him. But they shot open when she began giggling, “What?”

“You’re in looooove,” her foot kicked yours, “I know that look. Head over heels already. Talking about him like he made the fucking stars.”

Wide eyed and stunned, was it written on your face so plainly? “Oh don’t say that. It makes me so uncomfortable. We’re just enjoying each other's company.” When she moved to give you the cigarette again you didn’t take it. “All I was saying was—,” fuck, what were you saying? That he was special? “He’s a very nice person to spend my limited time with. It’s a finite resource and all.”

With a shrug she took another puff, “What’s to be uncomfortable about? Falling in love is a wonderful thing, hun.”

Was it? Honestly, had she ever considered how much damage came with loving someone? It was putting your heart outside your body. Letting someone else carry it around and just praying they didn’t hurt you, or get hurt, or go off and die and take your heart with them. Why would anyone willingly do such a silly thing?

“Cheesy. And kind of creepy. Falling? How do I get back up if things go south?”

You’d successfully avoided emotional attachment to nearly every lover you’d taken. The way women seemed to get struck down dumb by any old John or Jane just wasn’t appealing. Love was for fools. The weak. The dependent.

Or, so you had whispered to yourself as you pretended to not be home when suitors came knocking, as you avoided ringing phones, as you apologized and slid out of restaurant seats after awkward dinners. 

“If you fall hard enough, you don’t get back up.” She said it like it was a good thing. “You’ll love them forever, even if you hate em.”

That was the problem, too. How could she not hear that as she said it? All loss of control of your own heart and emotions was simply bad. People do irrational things for love.

You shivered, “That sounds absolutely horrid, Ruth.”

“Aah,” she dismissed you with a raspberry blown between her lips, “For the right man, you’ll find yourself enjoying the trip down!” 

“Nah, I’m not fan of heights. No dick is worth that.”

“Is that all men are to you? Sex?” She guffawed, taken aback by your comment. Which was odd, given it was Ruth. 

But, Yes.

Well. No . But — he wasn't a man. He was something different. The exception to the rule. Alastor was different.

Or, fine. 

Yes, he was a man. 

No, you didn’t see them as just sex. It was easier to say people were just pleasure and not stop to think about life any other way. Things got complicated when you added another person. Life became sloppy and uncontainable. If you stopped and considered the lives behind the people you used to lead on and let go before things got too difficult, you’d just wound yourself. It was easier to stop at sex.

When you could. Which you could, before. When sex was a token you traded back and forth with someone. But Alastor didn’t accept that currency. You couldn’t hand him your body and get brief but lovely companionship back. Your value had to lie elsewhere, the things you set before him and the wonders he had to offer were much richer in their worth than what you’d ever had before. 

Sometimes it felt like you slid him a penny and he handed you a quarter. You found yourself scrounging up the petty coins of your worth and trying to save them up for him. Practicing your makeup, learning how he liked his coffee, remembering all of the things he said he hated and loved. Attempting to stop smoking. Every act was another shiny offering for him. 

A crow scrounging the park grounds for glittering trash. Not very swan-like, you thought.

“You really don’t think you’re falling for him?” Ruth put out the cigarette in the coffee can beside her. As you turned to argue with her you saw her face full of amusement and incredulousness. It was rhetorical.

The argument withered and you could only pout, everyone that day seeming to catch your tongue, “I don’t wanna think about it. I’ll get scared and run away. He’ll figure out how little I have to give eventually. If anything more is gonna happen, it’ll happen. I’ll just… let it. Why ruin it with… saying childish things.”

“You’re naive but that’s okay. Enjoy the honeymoon stage while you can.”

Your eyes rolled, “What if he doesn’t feel the same? Why embarrass myself.” When you sighed the weight of just how heavy and true that sentiment was resonated in your stomach. Telling him you were falling in love? Alastor was a killer. His passion was singular. What good was a dame to him? No, worse than worthless. A liability. A witness. A weak point in the walls he so carefully crafted. If he knew you were in love with him he’d just end things sooner than they would have naturally.

“Dontcha wanna know if he’s a waste of that precious time, then?”

You cackled, choking on your spit. Alastor? He was the most worthwhile thing you’d ever encountered. Time with him suddenly had …. Value. That fucking word again. But time with him, it was slow enough to be deep and rich, but so fleeting you already felt a mourning mood for how much closer you were to the end.

You could only shake your head, “Wait, Ruth, didn’t you get divorced?”

“Shhh that doesn’t count!” She rose and stretched her long arms up to the sun and then out to the horizon, “Plus that’s how I know what I’m talking about! After the honeymoon phase? You’ll be arguing about laundry and wishing you were strangers again. Fighting about children and lawncare.”

As your finger nervously came to your mouth, teeth cutting into the nail, you considered how if Alastor complained about laundry and you could argue back with the comfort of knowing neither would simply leave, that’d be….nice. The safety of being honest without the fear of the other person giving up on you. Was that love? 

And did that matter at all? 

You’d thought earlier you knew the answers but now, when someone else said it, you got scared of those words. 

Ruth must have put a spell on you. As you and a bevy of others danced in line on stage, arms over shoulders and legs kicking high enough to show cheek and jiggle the soft skin of your thighs and stomach, you felt butterflies in your gut. Alastor would be picking you up in a matter of hours. 

A few men sent you drinks, which you repaid with a wink and a kiss blown across the bar before downing the liquor. It was the usual routine. You hadn’t felt nerves to see Alastor quite like that since sheepishly picking out “comfortable” shoes.

Alastor’s eyes widened when he took the bag from you, not noticing your attempts to avoid making eye contact. He let out a chuckle, his best attempt at stifling the joking question, “Already moving in?”

He realized quickly enough that wasn’t a good joke. Not when he finally looked up and saw your stare was distant. 

“Everything okay, dear?” He walked to open your door for you, and you nodded a thank you and an affirmative.

Should you rip off the band aid? Should you just say it and see what happens? 

When you turned to look at him and blurt out a confession, you were stopped by the profile of his face. What a gentle face. A lovely jaw. Even his bones were better than other people’s. What were you doing in this man’s car? What little pieces of glittering trash were you about to toss at him on a random Friday night?

No, in the books you read, confessions were always grande affairs. Fireworks and dinner parties and passionate kisses in rain storms.

You’d have to put a little effort into this. His brows rose as he clocked your staring. Eyes on the road, smirk pulled to the right, his hand came to rest on your thigh.

He deserved something much better than whatever you had to offer. Something unlike yourself entirely. 

The drive home, and yes you let yourself linger on the word instead of shoo it away, you watched a deer jump across the dirt road just past the bridge. 

“The bucks chase the does. It’s part of their mating ritual. I guess it’s not unlike the ‘playing hard to get’ some women like. The longer the chase, the prouder the buck to snag his prize.”

You laughed, “Women don’t like it, I don’t think. Well, some do I am sure but… If we don’t do that then people think we’re easy. We need plausible deniability. If people learn we put out we can claim we didn’t really want to and save some face.”

Alastor grimaced, “Gross.”

Unseen, you nodded and turned to watch the buck leap after its doe. 

“Kind of funny, you chased me down, didn’t you?” Alastor’s comment pulled you back to him.

“Oh yes. That makes you my doe.” Your arm came to rest against the car door, the trees slowly rolling by in the darkness. “Reminds me of the small freckles across your shoulders.”

“My mighty buck!” He fawned, in jest, pretending to collapse into your lap. You shoved him back up and behind the wheel proper. “Well given the chance, I’d chase you for miles.” His hand flexed on your leg.

“To Texas?” You asked. Your usual end point.

“Further.”

“How far?”

“There is no limit. I’d … run right off a cliff, head first, if you were waiting at the bottom.” He took his hand back, needing both to hold the wheel. What he said hit him harder than he had intended. Was it too much? A tad too dramatic? A nervous clearing of his throat, followed by an awkward laugh to put more space between him and the confession. 

The idea of you making Alastor chase you was ridiculous. You enjoyed the games you played with others, but you were never meant to be caught. If you wanted that, you’d just…give yourself. As you had done with him. Only him. The first and last person you ever wanted to give yourself over to in any sense. “And if I just… lied down and let you catch me? Would that make me a poorly earned prize?”

“Nope! That’d make me a lucky duck. And make you quite smart, if I do say so myself.” A wink. “Why run from such a catch like me?”

You landed a smack on his arm, light and playful. 

A truly comfortable silence settled in, just the sound of the car trembling over the rough road. The newest model Ford was still as loud as the last, but luckily you were far from others. 

The words had lingered like smoke, and you felt the need to address them.  

“Don’t actually do that though. If I run off a cliff or something stupid, don’t you dare follow me.”

Alastor just laughed, wasn’t that what you were doing for him already? Diving into hell for some inexplicable reason after Alastor. He wasn’t expressing some lack of self preservation, he was merely letting you know he’d reciprocate the fall. You hadn’t made him run after you, but instead seemed to just….rest your neck between his canines. And trust. 

If you were to go to heaven, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. It was too late to redeem his soul now. How far was heaven from hell, anyways? If the devil survived the plummet perhaps he could scale the walls of his enclosure and breach the gates.

Though, as he thought about the idea of heaven, he considered how happy his mother would be to meet you. To take you from her would be as cruel as heaven taking you from him. 

Maybe he could make a plea. To just be able to see you from below. 

But if the knowledge you were happy and safe was all he had, he’d be a richer man in hell than he’d ever been on earth. It’d be enough. 

He’d just need to broadcast his radio waves a little further for your listening pleasure.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

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@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[daisynik7]

so first off all i wanted to say that i LOVE your writing.

but, if you don’t mind, could you make an NSFW fic about a dilf! toji with his babysitter. but like cheating.

so basically toji has a wife but he’s cheating on her with the babysitter(whose like 10 years younger than him).

i’d really love if you could do it

thanks bookie🫶🏽

Pairing: dilf!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink

Author’s Notes: Thank you for your kind words, you are too sweet! This is my very first Toji fic EVER, so I was very excited (and nervous!) to write it. I hope I did it justice, this is such a delicious idea for him. Also, I have never read the manga, so if the characterization is off, I’m so sorry! I really, really hope you like this one! Divider created by @/fic-dumpster.

You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.

It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 

Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?” 

You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”

He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”

Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”

You smile at her. “It’s okay.”

She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”

He scratches his head. “Huh?”

“Megumi. Our child.”

He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.” 

While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”

She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”

She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“Sure.”

“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”

“Huh?!” 

She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”

You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…

~~~

The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy. 

Toji, on the other hand, is another story. 

You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you. 

But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?

On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas. 

When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”

“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby. 

He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”

“Yes, of course. Sir.”

For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”

You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence. 

Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”

You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”

He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”

You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”

“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”

~~~

This is bad. Very, very bad. 

You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.

“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”

You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”

His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time. 

After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with. 

He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho. 

“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.” 

And apparently, so are you. 

“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”

He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.

Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job. 

~~~

You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working. 

The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.” 

“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen. 

“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”

As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking. 

[skzdarlings]

the kingsguard ; jisung x reader ; part iv

part one | part two | part three | part four | tba | ao3 link

pairing: han jisung/reader summary: You are a queen. He is a kingsguard - a member of a holy order that vows to defend the king in the name of the gods. They forsake all earthly goods and swear a vow of chastity to avoid all worldly temptation. When he stands in as proxy for the royal wedding, all those vows are tested.

content info: reader described with curly hair.

content warnings: the previously established story dynamics are prevalent in this chapter, please proceed at own discretion.

chapter word count: 12000 words.

<3

-

Your body inevitably surrenders to its exhaustion.  You sleep through the sunrise and past noon, opening your eyes to a day gone by.  The deep gold of afternoon sunlight fills the room like a dreamy mist. 

The golden shade obscures all your worries.  You forget where you are.  You forget who you are.  You feel well-rested and well-loved, a warmth blossoming in your heart, reminiscent of a hopeful spring in this rotting hot summer. 

You are brought back to reality by voices outside your door.  You sit up in bed, straining to hear. 

“—had me ride ahead to see the queen was safe.”  That voice sounds like Changbin.  You have only heard him speak a few times but he has a recognizable pitch, not to mention his tone when he says, “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Jisung replies.  He sounds tired.  You can only imagine what he looks like.  Did he sleep at all?     

There is a beat of silence.  Maybe Changbin is waiting for more, but Jisung is not forthcoming. 

“Did something happen?”  Changbin asks. 

“Huh?”  There is some clattering as Jisung moves.  “Yeah,” he snaps, in a tone more agitated than you have heard from him.  “Someone tried to kill the fucking queen.”

“Hey, watch your tone with me. I know that, but you—”

Changbin stops halfway through his sentence.  Jisung’s expression is evidently enough to quiet him. 

There is some more movement, the swish of fabric, then Changbin says, “Go change into clean robes.  Take a nap. I’ll guard the queen.  When you’re done, I’ll ride back to the others and report.  We should all arrive by nightfall—”

“I’ll ride back,” Jisung says, his voice and footsteps already sounding farther. 

“Hey!” Changbin hollers.  “You need to rest!”   

There is no reply.  You hear the creak of booted steps on the stairs, then Jisung is gone. 

“Be careful with my horse!”  Changbin shouts.  “Ahhh, if he leaves her in the woods…” 

Changbin keeps muttering even though Jisung is long gone.

You sink into the blankets. 

It does not matter how far he goes.  Not the shade or the sunlight or the mist can hide him.  Even when you close your eyes, he is there, looking back at you.  In a few short days, Han Jisung has inextricably twined himself around your heart.  You don’t love him yet, but you could.  You want to love him.  That warmth in your heart is him, a blossom unfolding in the spring of your new becoming, but it aches – not because a love is ending, but because it can never begin.

Jisung has saved you yet again.  He took care of you last night, disregarding himself as he has done before.  You want to chase after him, swear new vows to him alone.  You would give anything for him to experience the same devotion he has bestowed upon others.  You want to fly out of this bed and saddle a horse, chase after him, find him in the woods and –

And what?  That plan did not work last time. 

You linger in bed for a long time, awake but nonetheless dreaming, pondering: 

You.  Your duty, your family, your people.  The king.  The marriage, the cruelty, the wedding bed.   

Jisung.   His eyes, his voice, his everything. 

Hunger finally lures you out of the covers.  You dress yourself in the gown gifted by the innkeeper’s wife.  When your hair is pinned up as neatly as possible, you step into the corridor and greet Changbin.  You go downstairs and the innkeeper prepares you a meal.  You eat by the unlit fire, the same place you sat with Jisung last night, before –

Your whole body burns when you think about it.  Whether you are with the king or on your own, you doubt you will ever touch yourself without thinking of Jisung and last night. 

“Is the food all right, Your Majesty?” Changbin asks.  His nose crinkles as he looks down at the bowl, as if he expects to find the source of your misery there.  “It smells all right.” 

“Oh, yes, it is,” you say.  You suppose morosely poking at a bowl is bad manners. 

The inn is bustling with workers preparing for the royal arrival.  When you finish eating, you find the innkeeper’s wife and ask for something to do.  Though she says the queen should not lift a finger, you insist that you prefer to stay busy.  You tell her you have genuine technical skills and she relents, perhaps seeing the sincerity in your pleading.  You do not want to sit in silent thought right now. 

That is how you find yourself with the mending.  Changbin loiters nearby, not hiding his boredom very well.  He starts lifting random objects to exercise his already-ample muscles.  He tries to challenge himself but it loses novelty quickly as there is nothing especially heavy in the room. 

You ask if he wants to sew with you.  He gives you a wary look but takes a seat.  You show him some basic stitches.    

“Kingsguards don’t do their own mending, I suppose,” you say.

He furrows his brow with concentration.  He has thick fingers and struggles to thread the needle, but he cheers for himself like the winner of a game match when he succeeds. 

“Ah, no,” he eventually answers, stabbing the needle into a torn shirt.  “The squires take care of it.  I haven’t touched a needle since my training.” 

You chat about his time as squire for the kingsguard.  Unlike Jisung, Changbin comes from a noble family, though he is the youngest of ten.  Knowing he would never see a penny of inheritance nor an acre of land, he devoted himself to the gods.  He claims beyond prayer, his only real skill is crushing skulls.   

“Well, I don’t know about that,” you say, resuming your own mending now that he is easily sewing on his own.  “You’re quite the seamstress.”

He giggles.  That bubbly laughter in that bulky body makes you laugh too. 

“Well, it never hurts to have more skills,” you say.  “And I don’t think any work is beneath anyone.  If you don’t take care, you may forget just how much effort goes into menial tasks.”

“Hmm.”  Changbin looks thoughtful.  “Yes, that does happen.” 

The day passes with a few chores and some conversation.  The sun begins its descent sooner than later.  You are eating supper when the royal party arrives. 

You promptly lose your appetite.

You and Changbin wait in the front room while the party loudly organizes itself outside.  The contrast of quietude makes it feel like there is a bubble around the room – weak, vulnerable, about to burst.  

Changbin looks at you sideways.  He has spoken freely this afternoon and appears to debate whether he should question your wellbeing as a person or stay silent as a kingsguard.  He rocks on his feet, fist curled around his sword hilt.  His mouth opens with a question when the door swings open.     

Chan enters first.  He and Changbin exchange a nod, then Chan bows to greet you.  “Your Majesty,” he says. 

He moves aside swiftly.  The king enters right behind him.  Your knees knock but you conceal your fright, hoping your queasiness does not show on your face. 

“My queen,” the king says.  His tone is warmer than usual.  He has only ever addressed you with open contempt, but now he approaches you with his hand outstretched and a respectful dip of his head.  “The gods have surely blessed you to survive such a trying ordeal.” 

You flinch when he grabs your face, though he does not strike you.  That would have been less surprising than the kiss he places on the top of your head. 

He drops his hands and walks away without another word, leaving you standing there in shock. 

The other kingsguards follow.  Minho does not show much expression but Hyunjin rolls his eyes at the king’s display.  His aggravation seems as red hot as ever, barely concealed as he bows appropriately.  When he rises, he gives you a look, one you can only describe as a warning. 

Your shock settles.  Maybe it is not strange the king is acting nice.  He would not want anyone to suspect him of your assassination attempt.  Feigning affection for his wife would redirect the accusations. 

Hyunjin and Minho move along.  Seungmin and Jeongin bow next.   You wait but Jisung does not show, just an array of courtiers and servants that have been travelling in the retinue. 

“Wife,” the king says, though bellows and commands is more appropriate.  “Sit.  Eat.” 

You do not have an appetite.  You sit beside the king as he glowers and mutters complaints about everything and nothing. 

Part way through the meal, Jisung arrives.  He makes some excuse to Chan, something about minding his horse after its ordeal.   

You stare at Jisung across the room.  He shakes out his robes, brushing a few twigs of hay from the black cloth.  His dark hair is pushed back, his face open as he turns his face to the room.

He catches your eye before anyone and anything.   Your heart reacts with an eager leap. 

Last night was overwhelming.  You remember his desperation towards the end.  You can only imagine what was on his mind.  You have spent all day in turmoil, alternating between reassurance and berating yourself.  Perhaps he just needed to decompress, or perhaps he regretted ever telling you a word, that he would prefer to never look upon you again. 

He looks at you now and you realize that was nonsense.  It is the same roving, intense stare as last night, one that moves like a hungry touch.  You shiver even though the heated room is packed full.   

The king pays him no mind, engaged in conversation while he eats.  Jisung bows from across the room and it is only for you. 

He does not look at you after that, sitting with the other kingsguards while he eats his meal.  When it is over, the king asks for music so Jisung fetches his guitar.   His singing soothes your anxious spirit.  It is so calming after so much turmoil, your eyelids start to feel heavy. 

You fall asleep to his music.   You wake to a gentle touch on your shoulder, finding yourself slumped over the table, head on your folded arms, a very un-queenly pose.  You surface groggily, blinking slowly up at the guard who touched you. 

It is Minho.   The front room is empty except for the innkeeper, some servants, and two kingsguards chatting, evidently manning the front door.  The king is gone, perhaps already to bed.  You sigh with relief as hopefully that means he will not bother you. 

Minho has been assigned to guard you tonight.   He sweeps through your room, checking the windows and locks, but thankfully does not stay inside.  You prefer privacy, though you would not mind if it was Jisung, even if it is dangerous to think that way. 

Yes, very dangerous, as you close your eyes and imagine his dark eyes, watching you from across the room.  You kiss your fingertips and touch your neck, just like he showed you, feeling that tell-tale flush of warmth when you imagine his lips on your throat.  Your body feels tight, everything from your waist below clenching inside. 

Your hand slips under the covers.  You do not think of the king even once, all your thoughts rivetted to Han Jisung.  You follow the natural call of desire, going so far as to curl your fingers inside yourself.  You dare only a little touch but it still makes you gasp.  You bite your lip to stay quiet, even though you want to scream a certain name when you stroke the place he showed you and come apart with the same earth-shattering release.  You picture his face the entire time, specifically the dark and desperate way he looked at you when you put your fingers in your mouth.

You do it again, imagining those fingers are his, imagining kneeling in front of him like you desired last night.  You take your fingers to the knuckle and wonder what he would say, what he would do.  Just watching you made him blaspheme, the gods on his tongue as his whole body shook with a deep breath. 

You fear you may be an insatiable, lecherous creature on top of irredeemably sinful, as you lower your fingers and do it all over again. 

You whisper his name as you come over that crest of pleasure.  It sounds like a prayer in the quiet dark. 

-

A long day of travel looms ahead of you.  You do not want to give the king any excuse to berate you, so you rise early and dress quickly without assistance.  You intend to be the first downstairs. 

You open your door without warning, causing the guard to stumble backwards because he was leaning on it. 

The guard is no longer Minho. 

Jisung spills into your path, eyes flashing with surprise.  You are surprised too.  The guards must have traded posts overnight, allowing the first group to get some sleep.   

Of course, no one thought anything of assigning Jisung to your room.  No one would have reason to believe you would stand like this in the doorway, staring at each other so intently. 

You make no sound, just the gentle exchange of breath, but your heart races towards him in a noisy stampede.  Given how he leans towards you, as if enthralled in a spell, his own heart is doing the same. 

“Ah, uh, Your Majesty,” he finally says, sweeping into a bow. 

His dark hair falls over his face.  Unable to resist the soft allure of each dark wave, you touch the back of his bowed head.  It is a soft, quick caress of your fingertips. 

He makes a wounded sound.  When he stands, his face is flushed. 

“Are you, ah, ready for me to take you?” he asks.  His eye twitches.  He clutches the hilt of his sword very tightly.  “Downstairs,” he says quickly.  “Are you ready for me to take you downstairs?  Yes.  That.”      

You nod.  You have not spoken a word out loud, but you suspect your gaze gives you away, because Jisung looks into your eyes and makes that same sad whimper before darting down the corridor.

“Downstairs,” he says, a sing-song as he scuttles down the stairwell.  “Downstairs, downstairs, la la—”

The king arrives while you are having breakfast.  Before long, you are gathered outside the inn, preparing to travel.  There is a long stretch of countryside between this city and the capital.  The next few nights will be spent camping in the woods, then you will arrive at the capital city and stay at an inn, then finally traverse the great city to the palace. 

You are not sure what fate awaits you there.  It seems so impossible and far away, but the interim is only a handful of days. 

You stand on your own, watching the activity around you, anxiously twisting your fingers around the sleeve of your dress. 

In the midst of the hustle, your eyes find Jisung.  He is adjusting his saddlebags, surreptitiously glancing at you from a distance.  If anyone caught him looking at you now, you fear they would see far too much of everything.  Those eyes betray him every time.  Right now you see anxiety burning in them.  Perhaps he is picturing what you are picturing: that you will have to ride with him, your back pressed to his front, and you will not be able to think of anything except the other night. 

You make your way over to him.  He turns his attention to his saddle, securing and re-securing every strap, rein, and buckle.  He keeps his eyes occupied and his hands busy, even when you finally step into his periphery. 

“Jisung,” you say.  

“Hmm?” He tightens a strap he just loosened. 

“Is it all right if I ride with you?” you ask. 

“Of course!” he says, his voice bright and joyful, like a bard entertaining a crowd rather than a man in conversation. 

“I just thought I would ask, in case there was a problem,” you say.  You get more anxious the longer he does not look at you.   

“That’s nice,” he says, in that same boisterous tone.  “But why would there be a problem, ha-ha?” 

He steps away, circling the horse to adjust something on the other side.  You blink at the empty air then follow.  The horse dips its head you so you take a second to stroke its muzzle.  To anyone passing, you and Jisung look perfectly occupied and uninterested in each other.  Truly, you can feel the distance straining.  You step a little closer. 

“Can you look at me please?” you say softly. 

His frantic hands finally stop their fluttering.  He looks the other way.  It is towards the king’s carriage where the other kingsguards are organizing.    

In the blink of an eye, that cheerful bard disappears and a much more solemn character stands before you. 

“No, Your Majesty,” Jisung speaks in a low voice.  “Not when you’re this close to me.” 

It is good he has the sense to look around, because you forget about everyone but him.  You are rooted to the spot, unblinking and not breathing.  It comes in a shallow gasp at last. 

“Why not?”  you ask.  

His brow furrows with utter confusion, like he cannot fathom the question because the answer is so obvious. 

“You know why,” he says.    

You are not sure how religious you are anymore.  You have drowned in the silence of the gods.  When Jisung says those words, this quiet but honest acknowledgement that he is just as affected by this power between you, you feel a force of nature rise within you.  It is the closest sensation to the breath of the gods, the supposed life force they breathe into their chosen ones.  It moves through you like lightning.  You feel hot, dizzy, and not from the sun as it creeps towards its midday pinnacle. 

 You look at Jisung.  He looks at nothing. 

“Your Majesty,” Chan’s voice breaks the wall of intense silence. 

You and Jisung both whip towards him.  If Chan saw anything untoward in your nervous behaviour, he does not comment.  He strides to you with the confident steps of an authoritative man.  He dips smoothly into a bow.  When he rises, one hand rests in a fist above his heart.  The other sits on his sword hilt. 

“As I’m sure you know by now, yesterday was not just a robbery,” Chan says, getting to the crux without wasting a breath.  “Jisung is a very capable soldier but if there is another attempt on your life, the safest place will be with me.  If it’s all right with you, Your Majesty, I would personally escort you to the capital.”   

There is no reason to refute his request.  Perhaps it is better you do not even try.  With the intensity of the last few days, maybe it is better to let all these passions simmer.  When they have burned themselves to ash, it will be easier to sweep them away. 

“Of course,” you say.  “Thank you, kingsguard.” 

Chan guides you towards the front of the train.  You do not look at Jisung until you are perched on the horse.  You intend to merely glance over your shoulder, but he is staring intently and it locks your gaze on him.  Fortunately, before it lasts too long, Chan swings onto the horse and blocks your view. 

You let yourself settle near the kingsguard leader.  All the while, you feel a different pair of eyes on you.   

It feels like ages before you finally depart.  After some time on the road, the others begin their chatter and sing-song.   Jisung starts the singing, as is his wont.  You wonder if anyone else notices how he starts the songs but never finishes them.  As soon as the others begin their jovial singing, Jisung goes silent and remains quiet until prompted again. 

You do not have to turn around to know his expression is solemn between bouts of entertaining giddiness. 

Chan does not sing or chat much.  He has a clear respect and even affection for his men, but he puts his duty first. 

Chan is also better at keeping an appropriate distance between your bodies.  Perhaps that is because the king’s carriage is close enough that you can catch a glimpse inside.  Some of the king’s favourite courtiers ride with him, all of them adjusted to the uneven road as they play card games and drink while talking.  You are sure some of their gossip is about you given the side glances and whispers. 

You are not sure if Chan notices.  You get periodically tense and he is close to you, so maybe he can tell.   Perhaps that is why he lets his horse fall back just enough to lose view of the inside of the carriage. 

With the king’s judgemental eyes no longer snapping towards you, you can breathe easier.  You even dare start a conversation with the kingsguard leader, though it feels intimidating in its own right.  Riding with Chan is not like riding with Jisung, and a conversation with the devout leader is very different than giggling with the bard. 

“Why doesn’t the king want me to ride with Hyunjin?” you ask curiously.  “He seems like a competent soldier.”

“Ah.”  Chan laughs, a nervous little giggle.  “He is.  It’s, ah, not for any real reason.  Really.  Just that, well, Hyunjin is good-looking, I guess.” 

“But he’s a kingsguard,” you say. 

“Yes, he is,” Chan answers more seriously.  “Honestly, I know the guys joke about it but… Hyunjin is one of the most devoted soldiers I have ever known.  There’s a reason he’s in the order.  He can’t really helps what he looks like, but whatever you hear: it’s not true.  He’s good, Your Majesty.  They all are.” 

“I believe it,” you say.  “I’ve never known a more loyal group of men.  They live up to their reputation.”

“Yes, they do,” Chan says with obvious pride.

You were seeking the warmth that is now in his voice, the respect with which he clearly regards his men.  It makes the real question inside you burn.    

“May I ask something more serious?” you finally say. 

“Of course, Your Majesty!” Chan says. “You can ask me anything.” 

There is not a hint of insincerity there.  You truly do believe Chan wants to do the right thing, but you are still wary in conversation with him.  Chan is steadfast with his responsibilities.  To him, the right thing will always involve the king in some capacity, so you cannot be as free as you were with Jisung. 

“The matter does not necessarily concern me,” you explain. 

“Hm, you’re the queen,” he answers.  “If it’s about the kingdom, it’s to do with you.  Ask me.”

He lends himself easily to trust.  With his competency and sincerity, you see how he easily rose the ranks of the kingsguard.  Jisung mentioned Chan was one of the youngest squires in history, setting records for length of time spent in training.  Those years of study and prayer make him incomparable.   He is the best and worst person to ask this question. 

“The guard who ran off,” you say, “and the king’s former mistress… What will become of them?”

The king has not forgiven nor forgotten the treachery.  It contributes to his constant stream of anger.  You cannot imagine anyone, even this spoiled fool, possessing the energy to rant and rave so incessantly, but his passions will not be tempered.  He has mused aloud all his gory desires, threats you know he will manifest if given the opportunity. 

It makes you sick to your stomach.  The details of the king’s fury are nauseating, not to mention your personal connection to the couple.  You saw them with your own eyes.  You saw their hope and their desire as they risked everything for freedom. 

You know that Han Jisung was involved.

All those gory images dance across your mind like tableaus from some horrible play, too gargantuan and horrifying to be real life.

“Ah,” Chan says.  Though he encouraged your question, he does sound a little hesitant now.  “I understand.  That was a… bad introduction to the kingsguard, I guess, wasn’t it?” he says.  “We couldn’t spare the resources to search for them, not without delaying our return.  The king wants to launch a kingdom-wide search once we are settled in the capital.”

“You’ll be the one in charge?”

“Well, I’m issuing it to Changbin and probably Minho, because I’ll have to attend to my usual duties.  But I’ll oversee it.  Why?”   

“How much will a search like that will cost?” you ask. 

The question surprises Chan.  Perhaps he did not expect such a pragmatic question, but there is an emotional underbelly to your query.  That is your family’s money the king will use to satisfy his own petty grievances, rather than putting it towards the kingdom he is sworn to protect. 

“It won’t be nothing,” Chan finally admits. 

“What purpose will finding them serve?” you ask. 

You want to turn around and shout it: that the king is pursuing them to soothe his own damaged ego and not because they are any threat to the wellbeing of the kingdom.  Surely, a man as capable and intelligent as Chan must know that.

You wonder how it must feel for this dedicated guard to be sworn to this type of king.  He deserves better.  Everyone does.       

Chan bristles, hearing the unspoken accusation in your question.  You feel his upright posture straighten even more.

“They broke the law,” he answers, his voice steadier than his body.  “He broke his vows.  She broke her promises.  There are consequences.”

“Consequences?” you ask.  “Or punishments?” 

“Your Majesty,” he says, as sternly as he can without being rude.  You suspect if you were a foot soldier, you would have been told to shut up.   “The kingsguard is pure.  When we give up our earthly goods, that doesn’t just mean literally, it means emotionally.  We trade our present life for eternity.  Everything we do, we do in service of the gods who provide for us.  Then and only then can the kingdom thrive.  A slight against the king is a slight against the gods.  Corruption can’t be allowed to spread.” 

“Corruption,” you say softly.  “You truly believe in the king’s purity?” 

When he does not answer right away, you look at him.  He looks at the carriage.  His brow is furrowed, his jaw set, looking very austere and cold.  He softens his expression when you meet eyes. 

“I think you’re a good kingsguard and a good leader, Bang Chan,” you say.  “Your men are good and they put their faith in you as much as the gods.  Whatever you believe, I will believe too.” 

You know Chan will not speak ill of the gods-chosen king.  You also know he will not commit a sin like lying.  So when you ask if he believes in the king’s purity, you are not surprised there is no answer.  He simply sighs as he turns his gaze ahead. 

“Maybe we should talk about something else,” he says.

It is all the answer you need. 

-

Your journey follows a river that flows to the sea, now behind you.  The course ahead lays inland.  Rest comes a few hours into travelling.  It is at a clearing not far from the river.  You can only just hear as it rushes and pours in a steady stream that leads far away from here.  

Everyone mills about, stretching their legs or sitting in the shade, while some prepare food and share drinks.   The king is with his courtiers, Chan close to him as usual.   You sit near the remaining kingsguards, close enough to be guarded but not so close to make them uncomfortable.  You know they will not speak freely in the queen’s presence so you grant them privacy.    

It means they are distracted just enough, blind to the way you and Jisung lock eyes across the breadth of woodland space.  After your conversation with Chan about the potential fate of the runaway lovers, you have fought to restrain all those deep, complicated desires.  You are less committed to true obedience, resigned to your own tragedy if the king moves against you, but you cannot be so careless with Jisung’s fate. 

It should be easy.  You hardly know the man.  But those dark eyes find you and see you, always right down to the core of you, and it is so difficult to wrench your gaze away.  

Jisung turns first.  He mutters something to Minho who is sitting beside him.  Whatever he says makes Minho freeze, a drink halfway to his lips.  His eyes dart over to you.   

Your back straightens, goosebumps rising, wondering what Jisung just told him.  Whatever it is, Minho makes the same report to Seungmin who also looks your way. 

Startled with all the attention, you resume focus on your idle task.  You dug some embroidery tools out of your trunk, so you sit on a stump threading patterns with no particular end design in mind.  It is just way to look and feel busy.  Your loneliness is less acute when occupied with a familiar task. 

You are disrupted by the crunching of the dirt path under booted steps.  You lift your head, gaze travelling long dark robes until you meet Seungmin’s eyes.  Seungmin is not exactly the friendliest, but there is an honest simplicity to him.  He does what he must, when he must, and he does it well, with no subterfuge or obfuscation of true intent.  So he must mean it very sincerely when he tips his head towards the circle of guards, clearly inviting you to join them.

“Your Majesty,” he says.  “The kingsguard would be honoured by your company.” 

“Oh,” you say, surprised.

Seungmin does not leave time for argument, taking your embroidery out of your hands and offering his arm.  You accept it blindly, ushered along before you can think twice.  You are soon seated, this time a part of the kingsguard circle.  You take a seat between Seungmin and Hyunjin. 

Seungmin returns your tools once you are settled, skirts neatly arranged around you.  The boys continue their conversation while you work, a tenderness and warmth in your heart that was not there before. 

“I can do that too,” Changbin says, pointing to your embroidery.  It makes Hyunjin spray his drink everywhere, the others similarly laughing.  “I can!”  Changbin protests.  “Tell them,” he says to you.  “Tell them how good I am.” 

“Tell them, Your Majesty,” Jeongin reminds him, nudging him with an elbow.   

“You don’t have to call me that,” Changbin jokes, ruffling the youngest’s hair. 

“Yes,” you say.  You laugh at their antics, but lay a hand on your heart and declare with teasing solemnity, “It’s true.  Kingsguard Changbin is quite a natural with a needle, I must swear it so.” 

Seungmin whistles, the others still chuckling.  

“I believe it then,” Hyunjin says, a twinkle in his eye.  “If the queen swears it, it must be true.”  There is a hint of seriousness to the proclamation, a knowing glance cast aside.  “It’s easier being a queensguard when the queen is true.” 

Though it is not unusual to refer to the kingsguards as queensguards in relative context, it is rarely done, and certainly no one has said it yet.  You suspect this king would not be so partial to acknowledgement of shared power.  Any reminder of your own latent holiness just angers him. 

Not to mention, while Hyunjin does not mention the king directly, the proclamation it is easier to guard a true monarch nonetheless carries a hint of accusation. 

You say nothing to refute nor encourage the claim, anticipating someone else may correct or shush him. 

Instead, Minho tips his cup in your direction. 

“Mm, hear to that,” he says casually, before taking a sip. 

“To the queen,” Jisung says, lifting his own cup too. 

Your gaze flies to him.  He smiles from across the circle, his arm outstretched and his cup tilted towards you.   Strange to say you have missed that sincere smile after so short a time, but you have, and it moves you more than the toast.  It reminds you of the first time you saw him, the first time he saw you in turn, when he stood above a crowd and sang to you across hundreds of people. 

The other guards follow his prompt.  They lift their cups and take a drink, leaving you more than a little flustered. 

“You’re the queen,” Seungmin says with that wide, cheeky smile, lightly nudging you with his elbow.  “You’ll have to get used to this.”   

You find it unlikely anyone but the kingsguard will ever toast to you, but you smile and express your gratitude.

Conversation has scarcely resumed when Chan comes stomping over.  His agitation ripples like rings in a disturbed pool of water, spreading to his men who are follow his flow.  They all sit straighter, looking at him for orders. 

Chan, clearly frustrated, just huffs and takes a seat. 

“Jeongin,” he says.  “Go stand guard over the king.”  He unwraps some food and takes a bite, shaking his head all the while. His irritation clearly gets the better of him because he mutters through his teeth, plenty loud enough for the others to hear, “I can’t listen to more complaining.”

“Is he mad about the weather again?”  Changbin asks with a laugh. 

“He’s the chosen one,” Minho says with a sly grin.  “Why doesn’t he just make it less hot?”

Chan clears his throat loudly, though he doesn’t berate them beyond that. 

“Jeongin,” he says, making a vague gesticulation in the direction of the king.

“Why do I have to go?” Jeongin asks, wearing a petulant pout that only the youngest could get away with.  You suspect anyone else would have received a lecture, but Chan just gives him a look, eyebrow quirked, and Jeongin complies with a tired sigh. 

“That’s what you get for eating so fast,” Seungmin says, earning himself a smack up the head as Jeongin passes him. 

“He’s right,” Minho says.  “You eat like a horse.” 

“Whoa, hey, man!” Jisung says.  “Don’t insult our horses like that.” 

There is some more laughter.  Jeongin shakes his head but his deep dimples show his amusement.  You giggle too, though it is probably inappropriate to jeer and chortle with a group of guards, hiding it behind your palm.  It is just too funny.  You watched moments ago as Jeongin shoved a truly impressive amount of food in his mouth, all but unhinging his jaw as he crammed it in like it was going to be taken away.  The jokes are mostly to that effect as the youngest ambles over to the king for guard duty.   

The conversations splinter after that, everyone more or less talking in pairs.  You just listen while working on your embroidery.  When Seungmin leaves to relieve himself, it opens an empty space between you and Chan.  The others are engrossed in their conversations – and playful but rowdy debates – while Chan just smiles and listens.  He occupies his hands with sharping the point of a dagger. 

You shuffle closer to him.  The motion catches his eye and he looks at you.  Though your conversations on horseback were polite after the initial topic, he still looks wary, perhaps now recognizing the look in your eye.   

“May I ask a question?” you ask. 

“You know you can,” he says, though he looks even more concerned. 

“It’s about the kingsguard vows,” you say.  “I know you said it prevents corruption – but how?  But why?”

“Why those vows?” Chan asks. 

He picks up the sheath for his dagger, eyes there as he slides it back in place.  The other guards notice his contemplative attitude, eyes flicking towards him then towards you.  Their conversations trail off when Chan begins to speak. 

“The kingsguard is an old service,” Chan says.  “Almost as old as the kingdom itself.  The gods chose favourites even before the palace had walls, and those favourites become kings, yes?  But with palaces, and money, and power… comes corruption.  There was a king who lost his way.  He stopped listening to the gods.  Sin and lust and anger: he let it conquer him.  The kingsguard was formed to save him from himself and, when that couldn’t happen, to save the kingdom.  The first kingsguard order burned all their clothes, put on the black cloth, and vowed to never be swayed by any temptation or sin.  It is not an order you can just join.  It is not a vow you just make.  The king, your brotherhood, and all the kingdom rely on your sword.  The corrupt king was executed by the kingsguard so the gods could choose another.  Since then, there has been no need for intervention.  It has been a perfect harmony for centuries.  So we maintain the vows of those first kingsguards and so the kingdom stays in harmony and order.”

“So it is of utmost importance both the king and the kingsguard keep their vows,” you say. 

There is a beat of silence, like Chan knows you are going to say something that will make his forehead throb, but he relents and says, “…yes.” 

Rather than torment him with more implications the king is not pure, you ask, “What makes a sin?” 

His shoulders fall with a sigh of relief, though it doesn’t last.  His eyes dart over the other guards, aware they are waiting for an answer too. 

He slowly turns to you and says, “Anything that distracts from the gods.” 

“I see,” you say.  You can feel the kingsguards looking at you, their attention moving between you and Chan as if watching the volley of an intense game match.  It makes your skin prickle, sweat on your nape as you swallow your nerves.  “Such as lust and anger, as you said?” 

Their eyes flick to Chan. 

“Yes,” Chan says.

Their eyes flick back to you. 

“Yet I fear I feel the gods most strongly in the throes of such things,” you say.  “The gods created all those feelings. I have spent much of my life suppressing the call of great emotion.  Perhaps it is not a coincidence that since being chosen by the gods, I have felt their designs all the more powerfully.”

Their eyes practically bulge out of their heads.  Chan just stares at you, barely even blinking. 

“Perhaps the king does too,” you say, your voice light, like this is a simple remark.  You draw your needle through the fabric, watching the colourful thread as you draw it heavenward.  “Perhaps that is why his relentless wrath is considered a permissible action.”

Hyunjin makes a sound, a short, sharp cackle, throwing a hand over his mouth before it can grow.  The others wear long faces, not daring to remark.  Jisung is wide-eyed.  When you glance at him, he tips his head, at once curious and concerned. 

You tear your eyes away from him.  You smile at Chan. 

“Ah,” Chan says.  “Well.”   

“I think it might be the same for other so-called sins,” you say.  “Lust for example.  I think… I think it’s a lot like prayer.”

“I’m sorry.”  Chan shakes his head rapidly back-and-forth.  His eyes close in a painful wince.  “Like.. like prayer?”  He looks at you like you just smacked him.  He probably would have preferred it.  A kingsguard can take a hit, but you are not sure they are built to withstand the queen speaking like this.   

“Yes,” you say, smiling.  You look down at your embroidery, threading a little flower.  “I think intimate intercourse is like praying.  It is the highest expression of gratitude and love, showing appreciation for the life the gods have given you, and the appreciation of the life they have created in another.  I think this can be turned into a sin, of course.  When it is stolen, when it is forced, when it is coerced, when it is taken without care or consideration for the other…  Yes, I believe this great gift can be corrupted.  But I believe it can be the holiest of all earthly actions.  I dare say there is no way to be closer to the gods.” 

There is a long gap of silence.  Hyunjin still has a hand over his mouth, like he doesn’t trust himself otherwise, and Jisung is still wide-eyed – and more than a little flushed.  Tufts of dark hair are flicked up at the nape of his neck, a scarlet tinge to his complexion.   

Minho and Changbin eventually say, “Wow.” 

“Um.”  Chan clears his throat. 

“I know,” you say, smiling at him.  “We should talk about something else.” 

You focus on your embroidery, humming to yourself. 

Seungmin returns and sits down in the silence.  He looks around the quiet circle and lifts an eyebrow. 

“What did I miss?” he asks. 

-

Rest comes to an end.  There is a bustle as everyone packs up and prepares to continue the journey.  You will travel a few more hours, at which point the sun will begin its descent.  You should reach the predetermined site to build camp before nightfall. 

You wait near Chan’s horse, stroking its muzzle, lost in thought.  You imagine what would have happened if you died yesterday.  Would the king have the audacity to celebrate, even in the face of his solemn guards?  His success might have emboldened him, made him feel justified, like the gods were on his side.  You like to think his failure has tempered him, that he will take it as a sign of the gods’ disapproval, but you doubt it. 

You spot Changbin in the middle of the crowd.  He is helping the servants with some heavy lifting, packing cooking instruments back on the wagon.  Chan looks like he will be another minute.  While he is distracted, you wander over to Changbin. 

Changbin puts the last piece of equipment on the wagon.  A servant bows and thanks him profusely.  Changbin grins and lifts the servant out of his bow.  He winks, saying, “Ah, no work is beneath anyone!  You don’t need to thank me.”

You smile as Changbin gives the flustered servant a friendly pat on the back.  Of course, Changbin is quite strong, and the willowy servant stumbles, but it is still a sweet moment.  Once confirming the servant is all right, Changbin approaches you and bows. 

“Your Majesty,” he says.  “Can I help you?” 

Changbin is in a good mood.  The kingsguards did not seem angry with your earlier words, just surprised, even amused.  You think they just like to see their incorruptible leader so flustered. 

“Not so much,” you say.  “I just have something on my mind.  Chan told me the king intends to launch a search for the missing guard and mistress.  He said the primary duties may be relegated to you.” 

“Ah.”  Changbin’s eyes darken with the furrow of his brow.  His grin disappears and he looks very morose.  “Yes.  Most likely.  Do you have something to report?” 

Flashes of that night play in your mind.  You shiver as you suppress them. 

“No,” you say.  “I just – I have a great deal of respect for the kingsguard.  This is a difficult situation for you all, I am sure.  I just wished to make my allegiance to you known.  In the event of any… complications.”

“Complications,” Changbin repeats. 

“Yes.”  You weigh your words very carefully.  You can either win Changbin’s confidence or push him further away.  “Like Chan said, the vows are so important, and your brotherhood relies so strongly on each other.  I’m sure Felix meant a great deal to you, at a time.  This must be very difficult.” 

“Yes.”  Changbin’s brow unfurrows, his face softening in a moment of obvious reminiscence.  He seems to stare right past you, lost in some faraway thought.  He sighs and runs a hand through his black hair, smooth strands falling back over his forehead.  “Felix was a good man,” Changbin says.  “You… remind me of him, a little.  The things you say.  Ahhh, this is all wrong.”  He shakes his head, his expression pinched with frustration.  “It shouldn’t be like this.  I don’t like the idea of going after him.”

You restrain yourself, not leaping too eagerly at the brazen remark.  With the well of emotion rising in your chest, you ask, “Then why do it?”   

“Because those are my orders,” he says, like it is obvious.  

“What if those orders are wrong?” you say. 

“They’re the king’s orders,” Changbin says, not quite an argument, not quite an agreement. 

“Yes,” you say.  “And the king is heaven’s earthly sovereign, who rules us all by the will of the gods.  But what if those orders are not actually coming from the gods?”

The king is close to you.  Changbin sees him first, but too late to spare you. 

The king shouts your name like it is a blasphemous slur.  The scream is imbued with so much fury, it sounds as though he means an exorcise a demon right here, right now. 

Although you told yourself you were resigned to his wickedness, the terror of that voice makes your whole body shake.  Bravery is much easier in theory, a whispered voice in the back of your head that extends no further than stolen words in shadows, but it is different to stare down a hateful man whose cruelty knows no bounds.

You turn to face the king, grateful for the length of your skirt as it hides your trembling legs.  You summon your many years of etiquette practice, feigning the most stoic countenance you possibly can. 

The king gets right in your face, screaming so loudly it blows a loose curl out of its pin. 

“You have the audacity to blaspheme against your king?”

A deathly hush has fallen over the forest, all conversations ended.  You hear nothing but the shuffle of bodies as people either retreat or approach the action.  Servants make themselves scarce, courtiers gathering with eager eyes.  The kingsguards swarm, abandoning their horses and forming rank with a hand on their swords.  You are not sure who they mean to protect.

Chan is the only one to directly intervene, shoving through the throng to reach the king. 

“Whoa, whoa, Your Majesty,” he says, skidding to a halt, his black robes swishing around him.  “What happened?” 

“This blasphemous creature dared to question the will of gods before my people,” the king snaps. 

“I did not,” you say, wrenching your voice from the nauseas pit of your gut.  “I did not question the gods.” 

“You have the nerve to call my authority into question?” the king asks, taking another menacing step forward. 

You instinctively stumble back.  Your gaze darts when you move, eyes finding the other kingsguards.  Minho, Changbin, and the younger two watch the scene intently, hands on their sword hilts.  Hyunjin has partially withdrawn his sword, hilt firmly in hand and a shiny length of silver catching the sunlight. 

Jisung has one hand on his hilt but his grip is loose.  He is the only one moving, taking tentative steps towards the scene.  His wide eyes are concerned but not frightened, his shoulders tensed, entire body braced.  A fist uncurls, hand lifting.  You are not sure if he is reaching for you or warning you. 

The king is still ranting.  All he does is repeat the same accusation, hurl the same slander.  There is a wretched delight to his snarling ire.  Because of the assassination debacle, he has been forced to feign a modicum for respect for you.  Your remark serves as justification for unleashing all that contempt once more.  

He calls you every foul name a man can call a woman.  No doubt you are also subject to his anger for the mistress.  It makes your hands curl up in fists at your side.   Your trembling body is building adrenaline with every quivering shake.  You think of the mistress, of Felix, of Jisung, of a cluster of crying servants, of your own body slumped in a carriage with an arrow in your heart, when all you ever wanted to do was help your people. 

“I would never speak ill of the gods,” you snap.  Perhaps it is your shaking or perhaps it is heavenly intervention, but you feel your voice as it thunders out of you.  It reverberates in the arching trees and quakes underfoot like an earthen tremor.  “Even in moments of my greatest doubt, I use them as my example in how to conduct myself.”  You speak loud but steady, looking the king in his startled eyes. “I would never speak against them.  I would never act against them.  I would never assume I have the perspective to rebel against their will.  No matter how someone might offend me, I would not attempt to intervene on the god’s will by bringing harm anywhere near to them.”     

Ostensibly, this is in retaliation to his comments – but everyone knows the attack yesterday was not just a robbery.  No one is speaking the accusation aloud, but it sits on the tip of every tongue when the subject is broached.   Yes, everyone here knows what the king has done, and when you make your declaration, it is all anyone hears. 

Only one of you has kept your vows.  Only one of you is righteous. 

He backhands you, clean across the face.  It lands even harder than on the wedding night.  That slap burned like a hot iron welt, but this one drums like a storm.  It knocks you to the ground, the earth rushing up so quickly that you cannot even catch yourself.  Your cheek hits the dirt, your body crumpling on impact. 

Your face is downturned but you hear the zinging slash of sword after sword as the kingsguards reveal their weapons.  When you look up, you see every blade partially drawn.  Hyunjin is the only one to fully draw his weapon, his sharp, intense face focussed on the king while the other guards look at Chan.

Jisung is the only one who looks at you.  He does not draw his sword.  His hand leaves his hilt and he runs straight towards you.  He slams onto his knees with so much impact, it sends leaves and gravel flying.  His hands are on you, shameless and without delay. 

“Your Majesty,” he says.  He holds your shoulders, guides you upright into a sitting position. 

You can barely see him through your tears, watering from the sheer physicality of such brutal pain.  You face is numb so you do not even realize Jisung is wiping it clean. 

His efforts accomplish very little because the king kicks you over, a sharp jab in your side that makes you cry out.  It is more unexpected than the smack and makes everyone gasp.

Jisung catches you, drawing you protectively into the cradle of his arms.  You imagine his face, his wide, startled eyes turned up to the king in questioning terror as he clutches the queen to his chest.  You fear he will be kicked for insubordination.  You press against his chest and will the world to disappear to around him. 

“Are you seriously going to allow this?”  Hyunjin’s voice rips through the clearing. 

You turn your face, cheek pressed to Jisung’s chest.  Hyunjin has stepped forward but he does not address the king, anger bright red on his handsome face as he stares at Chan. 

Chan looks at him but it is the king who answers, spinning on his heel to march up to Hyunjin.

Bellowing, the king begins, “The kingsguard does not allow or disallow me anything—”

“The kingsguard has a right to intervention in the face of injustice!” Hyunjin shouts back, driving his sword into the dirt a mere foot from the king. 

It draws the man to a halt, a flicker of intimidation crossing his face as he looks at the guard.  He quickly shakes it off, pointing a threatening hand at Hyunjin. 

“What do you dare accuse me of?” the king demands.  “Do you have the audacity to make so formal a claim against me?  Tell me, kingsguard!  Use your rights!  Make your claim!  And I shall make mine, rest assured!” 

Hyunjin cannot say anything more.  He stares at the king, fuming.   Chan was not exaggerating when he spoke of Hyunjin’s devotion to his beliefs.  More than a pretty face, indeed.  He does not budge an inch for the tyrant king. 

While the king is distracted, Jisung helps you up.  You rise on shaking legs, using his arms for leverage.  He murmurs your name, not your title, so soft an utterance that no one else hears.  It affects you more deeply than the king’s shouting. 

Your watery eyes lift to Jisung.  You are clasping his forearms for support but you want to fall against him.  Your heart and body both call to him.  You are overwhelmed with the memory of being in his arms at your most vulnerable moment, bare and open and overcome.  It makes you feel like if he is close, there is no height you cannot reach, no harm that can ever pursue you there.       

With your eyes locked so reverently on Jisung, you do not see the king approach.  You turn your face as he throws Hyunjin an arrogant, challenging look.

Then the king reels back and punches you. It is clumsy and too emotional, his anger getting the better of him, so it lands with less force than intended.  You still feel it right down to your toes, a shock of awful pain.  You are not sure what actually hurts, if he hits your nose or something else, but you taste blood, tangy and metallic on your lips and tongue.  Jisung catches you when you fall, keeping you upright while you spit blood onto the forest floor.   If anyone gasps, you cannot hear it over the ringing in your ears. 

Hyunjin instantly explodes.  He attacks the king with his bare hands, his swing far cleaner, a swift punch that strikes the royal face so hard, it makes a cracking sound.  Hyunjin is lean but evidently strong because the king reels upon impact. 

Hyunjin does not let him recuperate.  He lands another blow, then one more, coming at a different angle each time.  The king hits the ground on the third punch, landing with a humiliating scream and thud. 

Everyone is chattering and shrieking now, even the most eager courtiers retreating from the violence.  Minho and Seungmin spring into action, charging Hyunjin before he can chase the king to the ground. 

“Hold him back!” Chan shouts at them.  Like everyone else, pure shock delayed him. 

Minho and Seungmin seize Hyunjin by the arms, hauling him away from the king while he froths with anger.  The king recoils from him, then starts to rage because he has been humiliated.  Hyunjin shouts back, so much piercing chaos that you hardly make sense of it.

“This ends now!” Chan shouts above it all.  He does not need to draw his sword or swing his fist.  Hyunjin finally goes silent, shrugging Minho and Seungmin away.  Even the king ceases his hollering, spitting blood onto the ground. 

Your own mouth is still streaked red.  Chan looks at you, his hard expression softening. 

“Your Majesty, are you okay?” he asks. 

The king begins to answer, a furious exclamation that he is obviously not okay, then he realizes Chan is speaking to you. 

“How dare you address that creature—” the king begins. 

“That creature is the gods-chosen queen!” Chan shouts.  Where Hyunjin and the king raged with a red hot fire, Chan is cold, the harsh narrowing of his eyes speaking for him.  It cuts across the clearing.  Everything, high and mighty or low to earth, seems to bend in acquiescence.  “The queen is not to be struck under any circumstances,” Chan says sharply, a hand on his sword hilt, his eyes on the king.  “I am making a formal accusation against you as I just witnessed the offense with my own eyes.” 

The silence is more deafening than the chaos.  You watch as Chan shakes his head.  His booted steps roll like thunder on the dirt as he approaches you.  His arm is outstretched, a word on his lips, but he interrupted by the king.

“I want him flogged.” 

Chan freezes.  His back is to the king and all the courtiers, guards, and servants.  Only you and Jisung see the flash of fury, barely tempered as Chan clenches his jaw then draws a breath. 

“The gods spoke to him,” Chan says, frighteningly calm.  “They told him to defend the queen who should never have been struck so carelessly.”

“And for that I won’t have his head removed,” the king snaps.  He spits blood on the ground again, looking at Hyunjin as he does.  Hyunjin stares back but has the sense to not act again.  The king lacks any and all sense.  No sense of duty, no sense of responsibility.  He points at Hyunjin like an infant points at a child, stamping his foot and crying to his parents of some petty, childish plight.  “Twenty lashes,” the king demands.  “Ten for each time beyond this so-called defense he dared laid his hand against the holy king.”   

Chan turns.  He looks at Hyunjin.  Hyunjin stares back, a silent conversation unfolding in the space between them.  You see the calculation, the surrender.  Chan shakes his head and Hyunjin clenches his jaw. 

Your hand twitches at your side, instinctively searching for Jisung.  He finds it, clasps it, hiding your joined hands between his robes and your dress. 

“Jisung,” you whisper. 

“It’s all right,” Jisung whispers back.  Despite his words, he sounds upset.  “Hyunjin can take it.” 

In proof, Hyunjin does not await further instruction.  He rips at his outer robe, tearing it off his body and dropping it in a heap on the forest floor. 

“Jeongin,” Chan says.  “Get me a horsewhip.”

You jolt.  Jisung squeezes your hand, holding you back, shushing you gently.  You watch, heart in your throat, as Hyunjin tugs off his under-shirt.   He drops to his knees where he stands, Minho and Seungmin backing away, their faces plastered with practiced stoic looks.  Seungmin betrays only a hint of thought, shaking his head an infinitesimal degree as he backs away.  Minho flashes Jisung a look of similar aggravation. 

You still taste blood, even when you wipe your mouth with a shaking hand. 

Hyunjin prostrates himself on the ground, a full bow as if at prayer.  Chan has the whip in his hands and he snaps it open at his side.  You do not know if your eyes water from pain or sorrow. 

The king stands nearby, arms crossed, a smug look on his face.  You look at him as Chan swings an expert arm and brings the whip down.  The king does not flinch, his pompous self-satisfaction only deepening.   

You jump at the crack of the whip, eyes racing back to Hyunjin.  There is a welt across his skin, pale as it is never exposed beneath those layers of black.  Despite all the jests made at his expense, Hyunjin does not remove those robes for anything.  He keeps his vows with an unrelenting determination.  He is a good kingsguard.  It is not his fault he has a bad king. 

“Stop,” you say.

Jisung tries to hold you back but you drop his hand.  You are still dizzy and speaking with a mouth full of blood, but you march onward.  The king is probably looking at you with all that heated aggravation but you do not care.  You look at Chan, the only authority you respect. 

“Hyunjin was defending me,” you say.  “He acted on my behalf.  I will take his punishment.” 

There are immediate protests, not just from the kingsguards but from servants and even scandalized courtiers.  Their vocal protestations make chaotic discord, the forest shaking with every shout and holler. 

You hear Jisung above the rest. 

“Chan!” he says.  “Don’t you let her, Chan!  Chan!”

You and Chan are the only ones who remain silent, staring each other down.  You are perfectly calm, holding his gaze.  He looks at you like he is reading a book in a language he did not even know existed, scrutinizing the shape and sound of everything that lies in front of him. 

“Silence!” the king finally shouts, curtailing the worst of the chaos.  He marches over to you, hand out like he intends to grab you.  “Stand down, woman!  You’ve caused enough problems today!” 

You storm towards him too, wiping the blood off your face with such a flourish that it flicks towards him.  He takes a step back, so surprised by your approach that he almost trips over his own feet. 

“Am I not correct in saying that a citizen has the right to stand in for another when a punishment has been issued?” you ask. 

“You are not a citizen, you fool, you are the queen,” the king snaps. 

“Oh, so now there’s some fucking rules about propriety!” you snap back.  “Punching me in the face did not account for it, but this does?  I am curious where your lines are drawn, Your Majesty, and which gods drew them, as they certainly do not resemble any teachings I know.” 

The look on the king’s face is more satisfying than any welt or punch. 

“Enough,” Chan says, not raising his voice.  He drops the horsewhip to the ground and Hyunjin lifts his head.  “This has gone on long enough,” Chan says firmly.  “We have a long journey to make today.  This was a petty disagreement and a misunderstanding, and it is an insult to the gods and all of us present to draw it out any longer.  Hyunjin, get up.  You’ll spend the night in prayer asking the gods for forgiveness for any slights they perceived.  Accept their revelation and be done with this.  Everyone, back in formation.  Now.”    

Finally, the crowd disperses, speaking lowly amongst themselves as they return to their former tasks. 

Chan faces the king.  In the same tone, he demands, “You too, Your Majesty.” 

The king boils with such a quiet, fiery rage that you are amazed he does not burst.  Chan does not relent in the face of his threats, standing firm until the king storms away.   Once he is gone, your own adrenaline cools.  Your legs feel weak again.   You stumble.

Jisung catches you.  His arm swings wide, catching your waist and drawing you into him. 

“She’s still bleeding,” Jisung says. 

“Take her,” Chan says, nodding sharply.  “Get cleaned up.  Meet back at the horses soon.  He’s not going to be in the mood to wait.”  Chan rolls his eyes and turns away. 

You and Jisung are the only ones left.  You are standing too close to him, his familiar heartbeat pounding against yours, and you need to rip away but you want to be even closer. 

Jisung takes a step, guiding you towards the sound of the river.  When you try to separate further, he pulls you back into his side, that hidden strength revealing itself.  Your feet only skirt the ground as he practically carries you the riverside, like if he lets go for a second the gods will sweep you away from him. 

Jisung holds the briars as you cross through dense brush.  The riverbank is on the other side.  You step onto the gravel bed, breathing a sigh of relief as you feel separated from the world again at last.   

Jisung touches your lower back, just a press of his fingertips to get your attention.  It certainly works, sparks shooting up your spine as if he traced the length of it.  But no, it stays there, palm on your lower back, nudging you towards the water. 

Earlier, he could not bring himself to look at you.  Now you are the one hiding your gaze.  After a tumultuous day of warring with yourself, of provocations and retreats, accusations and regrets, you feel tired and unsure, hurt and embarrassed. 

“What were you thinking?” Jisung asks. 

You kneel at the same time, at the river’s edge, the cool fresh water lapping at the edge of his robe and your skirt.  It is paid no heed.  You gather water in the cup of your hands, bringing it to your face in a gentle splash.  You close your eyes, relishing in the cool kiss of the stream.  The water runs pink as it spills over your lips.  You scrub your mouth on the sleeve of your dress. 

“It doesn’t matter what I do, does it?” you ask.  “It doesn’t matter if I follow every rule he makes or if I break them in front of him.  He is going to hurt me.  He is going to find ways to justify it.” 

Jisung is still bad at hiding his emotions, looking at you with sad, shiny eyes, his face long with sorrow. 

You spare him a momentary glance, too affected by his empathy.  It would be easier if he did not care.  It would be easier if he did not look at you.  It would be easier if he did not gather every undone curl to pull them back over your shoulder. 

It makes you shiver like the first time.  That chill is swallowed by heat as you remember him looking at you through that mirror, drawing your hair off your shoulders, firelight warm against your naked skin as he choked on his breathing. 

Even now, his hand lingers on the back of your neck, on your shoulder, your arm.  Every touch is just a second too long.  He looks at his hand like it belongs to someone else, curling his fingers towards his palm like they hurt. 

“Your Majesty,” he says, not much louder than a whisper. 

“You can use my name,” you say, just as quiet. 

The roar of the river makes you bold.  You are alone but even if you were interrupted, you could never be overheard.  It makes everything feel so natural, so right, like the gods themselves have aligned the world in such a way that you would be here with him at this exact moment.   Yet at the same time, that is impossible.  The gods chose you for the king.  It was you who chose Jisung. 

“I know,” he says.  With a laugh, airy and humourless, he runs a hand through his hair and says, “Believe me, I know.” 

You finally look at him.  His eyes are drawn to your mouth, but that is because you missed some blood.  You fold your hands neatly in your lap, the very picture of lady-like perfection if not for your bloodied lips and the aching swell of your cheek. 

Jisung cups water into his own palm.  With one hand, he holds your face, thumb and forefinger curled around your chin to tilt your head.  He brings the water to your lips, pours as neatly as he can. 

“You’re incredible,” he whispers.  “I mean, you’re crazy— Fuck, I shouldn’t say that to the queen – Fuck, I swore again – don’t listen to me – Your Majesty, with all due respect, you’re just—”  He laughs, truly and deeply, wiping blood off your cheek while you stifle your own giggles. 

The ordeal is still too fresh to truly have any perspective, but you suspect you will be reeling later tonight as you remember your own adrenaline-fueled actions.  

“Don’t tell anyone I told you that,” he teases. 

“Our secret,” you say, smiling. 

His eyes are on your cheek, his thumb scrubbing a mark.  When you say that, his gaze flicks to yours. 

Your whole body reacts to his eyes.  You feel – tight, clenching, stomach twisting with heat.  There is at once an impossible emptiness at the centre of your being, and also a penetrating fulfillment as he looks at you so intensely that you feel it deep inside of you.  You think the king could come to your chamber every night, could do whatever he would, and it would not feel half so thorough a claiming as one glance from Han Jisung. 

“I, um, oh.  Oh.”  Jisung shakes his head.  He looks down, hair falling into his eyes as he swoops over to cup some more water.  He still holds your chin with his other hand, fingers loosely clasped. 

He straightens, tossing his hair out of his eyes, focussed on your lips. 

You know it is just because he is cleaning the residual blood, but his searching glance moves through you.  It deepens when he wets your lips, as he lets that little bit of water pour off his skin and onto your mouth. 

Your lips part, trusting.  His fingers on your chin tremble just a bit.  When he exhales, it flutters through a loose curl. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, lips moving against his fingers. 

“Your Majesty,” he says, trying to be jovial, trying to laugh, but it comes out like a croak.  “It’s why I’m here,” he says in a voice that sounds as rough as it did the other night.  “I’m supposed to serve you.  And – And I—”

His thumb runs slowly across your bottom lip, his eyes entranced with the way it gives under his touch, where it softly springs back.   Your breath spills over his fingers and he swallows. 

“And,” he tries again, breathing deeply when you do.

“And?” you say on that breath.

His gaze moves from your lips to your eyes.  He drops one hand as if startled, fumbling for nothing, accidentally finding yours in its descent.  You clasp that hand in your lap, heart racing as he so tightly curls his fingers around yours.  It is such a desperate clutch, but it does not hurt.  No, it never hurts. 

“And,” he says, those other fingers still curled under your chin.  It would make any defense impossible, his fingers so obviously  guiding your face closer to his own.  His mouth is a breath away, every exhale soft against your lips.  “And I want to serve you, my queen,” he says in a soft, low murmur.  “I need to serve you.”

You make a noise that could be mistaken for pain, wounded and sharp, but it is not that.  It is the sound you make when you draw your kiss-wet fingers down your own throat, the way his damp fingers now trace that same descent.  You tilt your head, offering him all that vulnerable skin, shivering under the long, slow touch. 

He recognizes that sound too.  He heard you make it two nights ago.  You remember him kneeling, just like this, looking at you, just like this.  You remember him, slouched in that chair by the fire while you dreamed of nothing more than kneeling in front of him.  What would you even do from that vantage?  You do not know.  You just know it beckons to you like a call from above. 

“Oh,” you say, trembling for a very different reason than earlier.  “Jisung,” you whisper, “I want to serve you too.” 

It is that remark that petrifies him, his hand freezing, his eyes wide.  He stares at your neck like it is more dangerous like a sword-hand.  A million complicated thoughts seem to flash across his face, one after the other. 

His fingers splay open across your throat, your pulse beating under his hand.  You swallow. 

“What are you doing to me?” he breathes. 

Then his fingers are under your chin again.  Your faces come close.  His lips are touching yours but it is not a kiss, just the promise of one, so painfully close to kissing that your mouths brush with the slightest twitch or breath.  Still, he does not close the space entirely.  He leans into it like he will, but then he collapses with a pained whimper, abruptly letting go, turning his face to the side. 

“Fuck,” he says.  He puts a hand over his face and shakes his head. 

You turn your face the other way, closing your eyes too, breathing hard.  You also touch your face, fingers shaking as you touch your unkissed lips, still tingling from the proximity. 

Your other hand is in your lap.  It is still tightly clasped around his. 

“Oh gods,” he says. 

“Yes,” you say.  “I feel them too whenever you’re near.” 

You look at each other.  His mouth opens, some sentiment on his lips, desperate to be uttered, but he only manages to move his lips a few times before surrendering to muteness.  He stands.  With a gentle tug, he brings you with him. 

The river laps at your feet.  There is a swirl of pink where your blood spilled.  You look at it for a long moment. 

“In the banquet hall,” you say, watching the pink wash away.  “In the wedding ceremony.  On the road.  In that inn.”  You lift your eyes to his.  “I felt it everywhere,” you say.  “The gods, or just you, all around me, like nothing I have ever felt before.” 

You lift his hands, bringing them to your lips as he did last night.  He just stands there, mouth open, watching as you kiss his knuckles with the same devoted press.  Where he was all desperate teeth and lips, you are tender, a soft wet kiss that lingers on his knuckles, scraped and scarred from so much work.   

“These hands are a testament to years of hard work, kingsguard,” you say.  You give his hands one final squeeze before letting go.  “They should be worshipped too.”

He makes a sound you can only describe as a comical squeak.  Your sweet, complicated, funny guard.  Big eyes blink at you as you step back. 

“Shall we?” you say, nodding to the brush, to the world that waits on the other side. 

He nods, still too stunned to speak, staring at you as if in a trance.  You bow your head to him, clasping your hands politely in front of you.  You turn to leave.

You have only taken one step when you feel his hand on the back of your neck.  It sends a bolt of fire shooting down your whole body.  Your heart, moments ago doused with cold water, comes roaring back to life, shooting heat to every extremity. 

You remember the strength of his arms.  Yes, you will never forget.  He wraps one arm in a possessive grip around your waist, just like before, but more.  The other hand stays on the back of your neck, buried in your half-pinned hair, leaving it even more dishevelled. 

The state of your hair is a perfect visual metaphor for what you feel inside: unravelled, undone. 

He pulls you right into him.  His name has scarcely left your lips before he swallows the sound, mouth pressed to yours in a hot, hungry kiss.  His lips, his tongue, his teeth, all of it there, soft and hard and needy.   

A kiss is the most you ever dared to steal over the years, silly childish exchanges that amounted to nothing.  

But this –

This is everything.    

“Jisung,” you say, like begging, almost a cry against his mouth before he steals the sound again. 

You are both clumsy from lack of practice, or maybe lack of time.  You are desperate to feel everything in the few moments afforded to you.  There are lifetimes of desire packed into that kiss, eternities surrendered to the passionate press of his lips on yours. 

He breathes your name, cups your jaw, tilts your face just so, kissing you slowly despite the ticking clock.  You shiver, humming a sweet, amorous sound against his lips.  The taste of blood is long gone, replaced with him.  Just Jisung, on your lips and your tongue.  You want it everywhere else. 

You would give yourself to him if he asked.  You would forget about everything and do it right here on this riverbank. 

Fortunately, he has more sense than that.  He lets you go, takes a small step back.  He breathes unevenly while raking his fingers through his hair.

“We can’t do that again, okay?” he says.

You blink at him.  It must be a convincing argument because he groans, then grabs you by the hips and pulls you towards him.  He kisses you again, mouth open against yours, coaxing all those tender sounds you did not know you could make.  It feels wet and messy and it should be awful, this frantic animal hunger, but it just feels good. 

You just – feel.  

“Okay,” he gasps.  He clutches your waist, holds your body in his hands and counts under his breath.  Finally, he steps back, nudging you away from him.  “Okay,” he says, wiping his mouth and shaking his head.  “That’s fine.  That was – that was just.  Exactly, you’re so right.  Yes.  All right.  Very fine.  Very good.”

He clears his throat, adjusting his black robes neatly like he did not just ravage your mouth in his holy garments.  He tips his head back and stares up at the sky, holding the briars back for you, pointedly not looking down even when you approach. 

You could walk right past him.  You should walk right past. 

You lean towards him and whisper, “I thought of you again last night.” 

You step through the brush.  You listen as he somehow accidentally slams them all in his own face, sputtering as he fights through the greenery to join you.  He shakes himself out like nothing happened. 

“Right,” he says.  “Right.  Right.  Right.  Go.”  He points ahead. 

You walk a few paces ahead.  He escorts you back to Chan.  When you are perched on the horse, you look back over your shoulder, once more intending just a fleeting glance.  Jisung is already looking at you, fingertips pressed to his bottom lip.  He lowers his hand.

You smile softly.  Like something heaven-sent, he smiles back. 

[obsessedwithhotmen]

⋆⁎✿ Finn ⇢ *- Better Than Any Other Man -* ⇠ Shelby ✿⁎⋆

⇾ (Peaky Blinders) Finn Shelby x fem!reader

⇾ Summary: Finns brothers don’t think he’s a real man for being a virgin, but his secret girlfriend thinks otherwise.

⇾ Warnings: smut, virgin!finn, experienced!reader, oral (male receiving) use of the word ‘whore’, self doubt from Finn.

⇾ Part Two

You and Finn had a secret relationship going on, one that he insisted to be kept private in order to save you from his horrors of his life and protect you from everything gang related, you on the other hand, didn’t mind whether or not it was kept a secret. Your parents weren’t very active in your life to the point you would be lucky to see them one a week.

At times it bothered you that Finn didn’t want to tell his family that he was seeing someone let alone you in particular. You would hear from the other girls your age how they thought Finn was cute and they were hoping that he would look their way, and even though you really wanted to, you weren’t able to say anything about it.

You were at home, on your own when there were rapid knocks at your front door. The book you were reading was discarded with a mark put in place to remember where you’d last left off before making your way to answer the door.

Hesitantly, you opened the door only to find Finn waiting on the other side. “Finn?”

“Can I come in?” He was breathing heavily as if he had sprinted all the way to your house. You nodded your head, moving to the side to let him past.

He appeared frantic, running a hand through his hair. “What’s the matter, Finn?” You asked, approaching him cautiously and reaching out for his hand.

“They…” he started, unsure how to tell you, “they hired me a whore.” He blurted.

You felt your heart drop as your face momentarily dropped at the idea of Finn being with another woman, especially in a sexual way.

“I didn’t!” He quickly added, noticing the way your face seemed to drop. “I couldn’t.” He admitted, holding your hand tightly and squeezing it.

You could almost sigh in relief after hearing those words, but you were still left wondering why he had showed up so suddenly. “That’s good.” You smiled, slightly.

“But, Tommy said I need to be man. They think I’m not man enough, Y/n.” His facial features displayed the stress of the moment and everything his brothers were asking of him, despite still being a teenager.

You frowned, “why wouldn’t you be man enough?” You hated the way that Finn’s brothers treated him, though you didn’t know them personally, you knew enough from what Finn would tell you to know that they didn’t seem to notice him as a brother but more of a worker, treating him in ways that no older sibling should treat their youngest.

He bit his lip anxiously, afraid to admit to you what had caused the situation in the first place, because despite being together for two months now, the two of of you were yet to engage in anything sexual. “Well… I’ve-” he cursed silently. “I’m a virgin.”

You nodded your head, trying to meet his gaze as he looked everywhere but at you. “That’s not something to be ashamed of, Finn.” You said, placing your hand on his cheek and forcing him to look at you. “Nowadays people are reckless, fuck anybody that lets them, but in the end they regret it. I’m not a virgin, but I certainly wished I waited.” You admitted to him.

When you had met Finn, you immediately regretted every thing you ever did with any other man, you wanted desperately for all yours firsts to have been with the young Shelby boy, but there wasn’t a way to take back what you did, and you were stuck feeling bad.

“My brothers think it’s a sign of weakness. Say that I should’ve fucked years ago, but I never wanted it to be with someone I didn’t care for.” He mumbled, still feeling the shame of disappointing his brothers, the people he looked up to more than anybody.

“I’d argue it’s weaker to fall for the same bullshit that everybody’s told. Dismissing your feeling to fit in with the crowd doesn’t make you strong, denying the temptation of wanting to satisfy everybody does. You can’t please everybody Finn, so don’t let your brothers make you feel bad because you don’t follow in the same footsteps as them.” You explained, making the Shelby boy feel better about himself.

A smile formed on his face as he stared at you. There was nothing that he loved more than listening to you talk, if he could, he’d listen to you all hours of the day for the rest of his life, as you always were smart and knew the right things to say to make someone feel better. “You’re to good for me.” He said, covering your hand on his face with his own and bringing it back down in front of you.

You rolled your eyes, “no such thing.” You said playfully.

-

After that talk, you and Finn ended up in the kitchen, having leftover desert from the night before, forgetting about the conversation earlier.

You had been talking to him about school when you had noticed he’d gone silent. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” You pondered, placing the last bit of cake into your mouth and standing up to place the dishes in the sink.

“I want to have sex.” He suddenly blurted out.

You froze as you were putting the dishes down, dropping them into the sink. You hadn’t expected Finn to still be thinking about the earlier situation. “Finn-”

You were cut off as Finn stood up to approach you, “no. I don’t want to do it to make a point, I don’t want to do it to make my brothers happy. Truthfully, I’ve been thinking about it for a while, I just wasn’t sure how to go about it.” He admitted, placing his hands on your hips as he stood close behind you. “If you don’t want to do it now, then that’s fine. I just thought I would let you know that I am ready, if you’d ever like to.”

“I’ve thought about it too, Finn. I just don’t want you to do it because you feel pressured.” You replied, turning around in his arms and facing him. “You certainly don’t have to do it to make me happy.” You added.

He shook his head, “I want to. Not for any other reason but my own. I want you, all of you.” His eyes flickered down to your lips as he spoke, lingering there when he finished.

Your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip. “So, you have been thinking of me like that.” You couldn’t help but smirk at him.

Finn huffed. “Too much. It drives me crazy some nights.” He replied, chuckling lightly.

“Well, then. Maybe we’ll have to do something about it.” You teased, slipping out from under his arms and making your way out of the kitchen, stopping to look back at Finn who was still stood in the same place. “Are you coming?” He didn’t hesitate to follow after you, grabbing you by your arms and pulling you close. In mere seconds your lips met his in a passionate kiss.

As you made out in the hallway, you continued to walk backwards until you found yourself pressed up against the wall beside your bedroom door, Finn’s hands holding yours in place above your head.

He pulled away for air, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ve dreamt of this day for so long.” He breathed heavily, pecking your lips.

“Was it good?”

“I don’t know, let’s find out.” He shoved open your door and dragged you inside, guiding you over to the bed in the center of the room, and as you made your way over you quickly switched positions and shoved him down into the bed.

You bent down in the slighted to connect your lips again, hands pulling at the buttons of his shirt to rid it from his body. He helped you along the way, pulling off his shirt and then his suspenders until he was left in a tank top.

When you pulled away from the kiss again, you slowly dropped down to your knees, fiddling with his belt.

Finn watched you with hungry eyes, anticipating what was about to happen.

With a struggle you removed his belt, before shoving down his pants, leaving him in just his underwear and a very obvious tent in them. “Your still sure?” You asked, glancing up at him as your hands met his thighs.

“Certain.” He nodded his head, feeling like he could probably cry if you stopped now.

Your hands slipped off his underwear, revealing the harden length that was hidden underneath. Biting your lip, you lightly grabbed the base of his cock, hearing a grunt come from the boy above you. You giggled as you squeezed him harder hearing how sensitive he was to your touches and you barely started.

Slowly, you moved your hand up and down, liking the dragged out moans that slipped from his mouth. You were glad that he wasn’t afraid to be vocal, having used to being with men that were too ashamed to make so much as a groan let alone any noise. But hearing the beautiful sounds that escaped your boyfriend’s mouth made you want to hear more.

You found a steady rhythm with your hand, letting him get used to your touch, before you finally made the next step. Your tongue darted out to lick a stripe up his dick, starting all the way to where his balls were and making your way up to his tip, tasting the salty taste of pre-cum.

“Shit.” He hissed, eyes opened as he wanted to watch you take him in your mouth.

His hands balled up against the blanket as he watched the tip of his dick disappear into the warmth of your mouth.

You hummed in surprise as his hips unconsciously thrusted up into your mouth, forcing you to take him further. “Sorry, sorry.” He apologized, running a hand through your hair. “Can’t help myself.”

You pulled off, “s’alright. I don’t mind.” You smiled up at him before returning, this time taking the majority of him in your mouth.

Finn was struggling to hold himself back the more you took him into your mouth, he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, if he was allowed to hold your hair or if it was best to leave them at his side. He couldn’t even control the groans that left his mouth the more you went.

You, on the other hand, were having fun and enjoying his reactions to everything you did, like the extra loud groan he let out and the curses as your other hand met his balls, fondling them.

Before you both knew it, Finn was close, and as he was about to burst into your mouth he quickly pulled your head away, feeling his orgasm diminish rapidly. “Want to cum with you.” He said, sounding dazed as he wiped the spit around your mouth away.

You stood up, quickly removing your clothes and tossing them around the room until you were left in your undergarments, that was when you crawled onto the bed beside him laying down.

Finn quickly hovered over top of you, lips meeting the side of your neck as he sucked harshly at your skin.

He trailed down from your neck, meeting your chest and kissing the parts that showed outside your bra. “You’re perfect.” He mumbled, hand gripping at the flesh of your tit.

You arched your back to allow for Finn to remove your bra, giggling as he struggled with the clip. “Sorry.” He murmured, a faint blush growing on his cheeks as he fumbled around before letting you take it off for him.

His embarrassment was quickly forgotten as his eyes met your tits, hearing a quiet ‘fuck me’ when his hands connected with your bare skin.

Finn took his time, enjoying your breasts and treating them as if they were fragile before he moved down to your stomach and then even lower.

With shaky hands, he slowly slid your underwear down, pulling them off and tossing them aside. He sucked in a harsh breath, eyes widening at the sight.

“Do I- do I have to do anything else first? Before we… you know?” He asked, hands resting on your thighs, ready to spread your legs wide for him to rest in between them.

“Not this time. I can teach you what to do another time.” You replied, sitting up on your elbows to get a better view of the nervous boy.

“Okay…” he mumbled, pushing your legs apart, and putting himself in between them.

He moved back up the bed, body hovering over yours, with one hand holding his dick. “Ready?” You asked him, kissing him again.

“Yeah, might need some help though.” He responded, not sure what he was supposed to do now.

You reached down, grabbing his dick with your own hand and pushed it against your folds, eyes locked on Finn’s face as you garnered his reaction. Slowly, you shoved his dick further until he met your hole and then pushed the tip in. “Fuck.” He hissed, head dropping and hair covering his eyes.

“And now you can move.” You murmured, moving your hand back up and placing it on his hips, urging him to thrust into you.

He took his time, slowly pushing the rest of himself into you until he was balls deep and struggling to contain himself. “How fast can I go?” He asked, hooded eyes meeting yours.

“As fast as you like.” You whispered, holding back a moan. “Be as rough as you like.” You added.

He nodded his head, pulling himself backwards and then pushing back into, loving the way you seemed to suck him back in whenever he attempted to pull a way.

Once he got used to the feeling was when he picked up the pace, hearing the way you moaned whenever his hips met yours.

As soon as he heard his name fall from your lips in that breathy tone was when Finn lost control.

His hips hit yours in quick short burst, wanting to be as deep as possible inside you.

“Fuck, you feel good.” He grunted, hand now roughly grabbing at your breasts, a contrast to his earlier softness.

“You too.” You replied through choked moans.

Your legs wrapped around his waist wanting him to be as close to your body as possible while you wrapped your arms around him. Your finger nails dragged down his back as you drew closer and closer to the end.

Finn himself was holding himself back from an orgasm, not wanting to cum too earlier and ruin it for you. “Are you close?” He asked, desperately hoping you were.

You hummed, sliding a hand between the two of you and past your folds to meet your clit, rubbing fast at the small bud.

“Finny!” You moaned, back arching and chest hitting his as you came around his cock, walls tightening around him.

“Shit, shit.” He repeated, feeling his own hit and quickly pulling out, cumming all over your stomach. “Sorry, I didn’t know where to.” He apologized as the last drop fell.

“It’s okay.” You reassured him, breathing heavily. “Better there then in. I don’t know about you, but I’m not quite ready for kids.” You chuckled.

“Definitely not. Besides, there’s still a lot more fun to have before kids.” He joined you, lying down flat on the bed.

“Finn?” He hummed, “your supposed to get something to wipe this off me.” You said, gesturing down to the white mess on your stomach.

He quickly got up, apologizing to you and exiting your room to get a cloth. He returned back with something to clean the cum off your stomach and a glass of water, handing you the water and wiping away his mess.

“How was I?” He asked, this time laying down beside you as he was certain he’d done everything he needed to do.

“Perfect.” You responded, smiling up at him. “Better than anyone else I’ve been with.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” He rolled his eyes.

“No, I’m serious. No one’s ever made me cum like that before.” You admitted, placing a hand on his stomach and lightly tracing over his abs.

He stared at you, waiting for a smile to crack but there was no sign of one. “Seriously?” He asked, shocked.

“Seriously.”

“Wow…” he trailed off. “Think your ready round for two?”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

[spacerockfloater]

Me watching Feyre convince herself that Tamlin is a disgusting monster who only used her to get his power back and then stopped caring for her the moment she became his because he was some selfish lunatic who wanted to keep her as his useless plaything the more time she spends with Rhysand and his Inner Court:

Tamlin. The guy who helped her family even if he only needed Feyre. The guy who had to watch the love of his life die screaming in pain as Amarantha broke every bone in her body. The guy who crawled in front of Amarantha and begged her to spare her while his own blood drowned him. The guy who slept at Feyre’s feet each night out of paranoia that something would happen to her, not him. The guy who let Feyre roam his court and help whomever she wants until she found out that these people had their own healing to do and the help they actually needed, looking up to someone, was not something she wanted to offer. The guy who had to watch her reject him publicly by hesitating at the altar and never even mentioned it because he didn’t want to embarrass or upset her. The guy who had to watch her get abducted every month by his nemesis, a known sadist. The guy who waited and gave her space. The guy who was searching for a way to break the bond all of these months even though she furiously blamed him that he was not doing enough to cancel her bargain with Rhys, a bargain she willingly made and was responsible for. The guy who was willing to let her go even if it meant condemning an entire world. The guy who launched himself at Hybern to save her sisters.

And he’s crazy because he wanted to keep her safe in their fucking palace for one evening?

Reading Feyre’s narrative after she started hanging out with the people of the Night Court made my skin crawl. I kept gripping the book furiously and mentally telling her “Wait, that’s not what fucking happened” every time she spoke about Tamlin. It was horrifying because this is exactly what I always imagined people who abandon you do: leave you and then tell people their own, made up version of events.

Watching her stop speaking about him with love and slowly paint him as her tormentor was like watching a train wreck you couldn’t prevent:

- I love Tamlin and he loves me and we have sacrificed so much for one another.

- I love Tamlin and both of us are dealing with a lot right now, but we’re trying and we’ll make it.

- Tamlin loved me and he made some wrong decisions but I still feel like I’m cheating on him.

- Tamlin’s actions were wrong and I hope we’ll sort things out once we all calm down.

- Tamlin gave me everything but he still made some wrong decisions.

- Tamlin really cared for me but I don’t need what he has to offer me anymore.

- Tamlin was right about my safety after all but I have decided I don’t care and don’t forgive him.

- Tamlin only wanted me because I was useful and then stopped caring for me.

- Tamlin is a selfish prick who used me and then tossed me aside and wanted me to be his stupid ignorant pet and he didn’t give a fuck about me and I hate him and want him to die.

Feyre. Feyre. FEYRE. Wake up. None of this is true. You’re spiralling and you’re blaming him for every little thing he ever did that slightly inconvenienced you while you forgive and justify each and every one of Rhysand’s horrendous crimes against you, all of his countless lies, all of his manipulation.

I think she just never loved Tamlin and that’s why it was easier to hate him.

[thefallennightmare]

Unveiled Hearts-Matt Dierkes One Shot

*all pictures for cover found on pinterest. gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Matt Dierkes x OFC

Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, smut

Summary: Matt and Faye still can’t confess their feelings for each other. Crossing the line from friends to lovers could change the dynamics of the tour of the Concrete Jungle. An accidental kiss reveals the truth hidden behind small smiles and laughter. They both know that the smart thing would be to forget it ever happened. But some kisses are so spectacular that they change everything.

Authors Notes: When I tell you guys, this has been MONTHS in the making. I'm so glad I can finally say it's finished! Buckle up, it's a long one! Hopefully, all of your questions will be answered.

Tags: @loeytuan98 @thatchickwiththecamera @dsireland86 @iknownothingpeople @bngurngheart @malice-ov-mercy @concreteemo @cookiesupplier @heyyoplayer @myownthoughts12 @vinyardmaurao @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @lma1986 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @itsafullmoon @shilohrosechicken @klutzy-kay24 @shadowseve @blueskylinesx @exitwoundsx @thisbicc @pathion @cookiesupplier @sammyjoeee @whenthesummerdies @flowery-mess @xxkittenkissesxx @its-inourblood @madomens @collidewiththesavannah @xserena-13 @cncohshit

If I missed anyone on the tag list, I apologize!

FAYE

I sat in my car, drumming my fingers against my steering wheel and trying to keep my breathing even. Every few seconds, my eyes would dart to the clock on the dashboard, painley waiting for it to read 6:00 so I could get this meeting over with. 

“Five minutes,” I muttered to myself followed by a pep talk. 

This is a job interview, one I’ve been to countless times before. I knew what I was doing and also was confident enough in my abilities that they’d love my work. Lana even reassured me. 

“They’re a great batch of guys to work with, Faye! It’s like we’re a big family, we take care of each other,” her words echoed in my mind. 

I watched as these guys worked in a frenzied state packing the two vans with various equipment but somehow made it seem like they flowed together naturally. The effort conversations and laughter that carried between them showed how tight knit they were so I couldn’t help but feel like I was a stranger that was about to disrupt their lives. 

You are. They don’t know you. 

Grumbling at the voice in my mind, I reached for my portfolio and camera, slinging it over my neck; I never went anywhere without it. 

The laughter from the large group carried over to the other end of the parking lot where I was slowly walking up. I had to meet two of these guys at this large warehouse while they spent the afternoon packing up their things. My hands shook as I clutched my photo portfolio to my chest and as I approached them, unable to hide behind the invisible vortex I hope shielded me, I came to a stop a few feet away. 

My hazel eyes tracked each person's movement as they went from the large garage opening of the warehouse over to the two trucks and large tour bus parked on the opposite side of the lot. My mouth ran dry as I tried to find my voice to call over to them, announce my arrival, but it was difficult due to the racing of my heart. 

Suddenly a soft buzz in my back pocket was my saving grace and I pulled it out, smiling at the name on the screen. 

Tay: Okay, we need a girls night out tonight. I broke up with loser face so I need to forget about it. Find someone new. Preferably one that has a head full of curls. You know those are my weaknesses.

I giggled while quickly typing out my response. 

Me: Well, you know what they say. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. 

Tay: Fuck yes. I’ll pick you up at eight!

“Are you Faye?” 

My eyes snapped up from my phone to the tall figure in front of me, the sunlight catching the intricate and somewhat colorful tattoos on both of his arms. A lone finger scratched at his cheek, showcasing a small heart tattoo. I knew who he was, Lana already giving me the full run down on everyone in the band. 

While he was gorgeous, I also knew he wasn’t available. But not like it mattered, I wasn’t here for a relationship. I was here to work. 

“Uh,” my hands shook again as I pocketed my phone, clutching the portfolio to my chest. “Yeah. Sorry.” 

The man raised a brow with a soft smile. “There’s no need to apologize. Were you standing there long?” 

I shook my head. “No, no. I just walked up a minute ago but didn’t want to bother you guys. You seem a little busy.”

“You’re fine,” he stuck out his hand. “I’m Noah.” 

I desperately wished I could have wiped the sweat off of my palm as I grasped his; it engulfing mine. 

“Faye. But I guess you already know that,” I chuckled lightly. 

“Yeah, Lana mentioned you’d be stopping by to talk with us,” Noah turned to look over his shoulder, running a hand through his dark waves. “Uh, Matt!” 

I watched silently as another man stepped down the ramp of one of the trucks, head snapped over towards Noah and I. He removed the hat from his head to shake out the long strands of his hair and my breath caught in my throat. The tattoos that covered his left arm were hard to read from this distance but the bright color of the one on his leg immediately stood out. 

Dragon Ball Z. 

I’d never been a fan of it but my younger brother watched it all the time growing up. 

Suddenly realizing what Noah called him, I remembered Lana’s warning from earlier. 

“Everyone is chill. Well, except Matt. As long as you stay on his good side you should be fine.”

My palms began to sweat even more now and I rubbed one of them on the side of my thigh, hoping to dry it before needing to shake Matt’s hand. As he walked closer to where Noah and I were standing, a soft breeze blew through the strands of his golden hair and I marveled at the confidence that radiated off of him. Those dark eyes tracked over me; from my scuffed converse up over my long legs and I knew he was assessing my tattoos like I did his. When his lips twitched with a sly smile, I knew Matt had taken in the sight of my teal hair. 

“Hi,” I said once he came to a stop next to Noah. 

The height difference between them was immediately recognizable. 

“This is Faye; Lana’s cousin,” Noah said towards Matt. 

He nodded. “The fill in.” 

The way Matt said those words didn’t quite sit well with me but not wanting to ruin this potential job, I gave a forced smile instead. 

“She mentioned you guys wanted to see my portfolio,” I said while handing it over to Noah, who took it with a smile.

“How long have you been in this business?” Noah asked, slowly flipping through my portfolio. 

I adjusted the strap of my camera on my shoulder. “I started taking pictures when I was ten. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I made it my profession. I’ve photographed a handful of local bands.” 

Matt raised a brow. “So Bad Omens would be the first big name band you’ve photographed?” 

There was still that underlying tone in his voice, one I couldn’t quite decipher. 

“As a job, yes. I’ve taken a few pictures when I went to shows. But I can assure you, I know what I’m doing,” I said with slightly narrowed eyes. 

Noah froze on one photograph, a loving smile pulling at his lips. His eyes lingered on it for a long moment before showing it to Matt, who let out a small chuckle. 

“What are the odds,” he muttered under his breath. 

“So you’re used to working in fast paced environments?” Noah asked while handing back my portfolio.

I nodded, clutching it to my chest yet again. “Yeah. It’s nothing new for me.”

“This will be your first time touring though, right?” 

“Yeah,” I nodded again at Noah. “Might take some getting used to but I can assure you, I’ll be fine.” 

“Cool,” he smiled. “I know it’s kind of last minute but we leave tomorrow.” 

“I’ll be ready,” I gave a curt nod.

Underneath the rim of his hat, Matt’s eyes narrowed but he remained silent. Assessing me with the darkness of them but never once parting his lips to say what was on his mind. Which irritated me, the feeling burning low in my gut because I absolutely hated when people didn’t say what was on their mind. If they couldn’t tell me how they truly felt about a situation, how could I trust them later on? 

“Is that fine with you, Matthew?” I asked with a raised brow. 

His jaw ticked when I uttered his full name and briefly, I saw a tiny smile play at his lips. 

“Be here at six a.m,” was all he said before turning on his heels and walking back towards the large trucks. 

I pursed my lips, doing my best to keep my comment to myself; something Noah noticed. 

“Don’t let Matt get under your skin. He’s not too fond of change. But he’ll get over it. Lana couldn’t stop raving about you. Bryan is actually excited to work with you,” Noah said. 

Their other photographer. 

“I’m actually a huge fan of Bryan. I have a few of his prints hung up in my apartment,” I said while looking up at Noah. 

He chuckled while running a hand through his hair. “Did you want to stay? We’re almost done packing up the trucks and have plans for a little BBQ at my girlfriend's place. She’d love it if you joined.”

I thought about it for a long moment. It would probably be a good thing to do in a way to get to know everyone before being stuck on the road with them for the next few weeks. But then I remembered my plans with Tay and knew if I backed out on her much needed girls night, she’d be upset. 

“Thank you for the invite but I already have plans with my friend tonight. I’m sorry,” I said. 

Noah waved me off. “No need to apologize, Faye. We’re about to be stuck together for the next couple of weeks so take all the alone time you need.”

Just then, someone ran up to Noah with a breathless smile and I couldn’t stop staring at the mounds of curls on top of his head. 

“Hey, man. Sorry I’m late.” 

Noah gave the man a somber smile. “How’d it go?” 

“She stood me up.”

My eyes darted between the two and when Noah took in my confused state, he motioned to the man with curls. 

“Faye, meet Jesse. Jesse, meet the new photographer, Faye.” 

Jesse gave me a bright smile, the one that eased away all of your worries, and he adjusted the round glasses perched on his nose before extending a hand to me. 

“Oh, Lana’s cousin! She mentioned you’d be filling in for her while she was gone,” Jesse said. 

“Yep,” I shook his hand. “Seems like she talked about me to everyone.” 

Suddenly another man came up on the side of Jesse, slapping his back. “How’d the date go?” 

This man I instantly recognized. 

Bryan Kirks. 

Jesse snorted. “She stood me up. I waited at the restaurant for thirty minutes. Tried calling and texting her; got left on read.” 

“No fucking way,” Bryan shook his head. “I never had a good feeling about her. Who spells their name with two X’s like that?”

“That’s bullshit,” Noah grumbled under his breath. 

Although I wasn’t sure what happened, it was clear this relationship that Jesse was talking about ended in a way that made Bryan and Noah upset for their friend. Seeing the slight confusion on my face, Jesse gave me a weak smile. 

“My girlfriend stood me up tonight.” 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I frowned while shifting on my feet. 

He shrugged while stuffing his hands into his pockets. “It’s alright. I’ll get over it.” 

“Well you know what they say. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else,” Bryan smirked. 

“I just told my best friend the same thing,” I laughed while tucking a piece of teal hair behind my ears. 

The ease that fell over me as I stood with the three men, talking as if I’d known them for years, made the fear of what the next few weeks held almost non-existent. 

“Is that the D5000?” Bryan asked while pointing to the Nikon hanging off my shoulder. 

I beamed while holding it up. “Yeah. My dad gifted it to me when I decided to make this a career. I have a few other models but I take this one everywhere with me for work.”

Bryan motioned towards Noah and Jesse, who all stood together, which prompted me to snap a few pictures of them; all three of them having goofy smiles then a few serious ones. 

I clicked through the pictures while all three of them glanced over my shoulder and felt Jesse snicker towards Noah. 

“Your girl is going to love that pouty look.”

“Shut up,” Noah grumbled but you could hear the smile in his voice. 

“HEY! Assholes! Are we still taking a break or actually here to work?!” 

All of our eyes snapped up to Matt, who was pushing a large crate towards one of the trucks. Even from this distance, I could see the slits of his eyes staring directly at me. Something about him irritated me all while causing my stomach to flip as those narrowed eyes grazed up my long legs. 

“This will be a fun few weeks,” Bryan said. 

Jesse bid us all a goodbye with a nod. “Have fun with that. I’ve got plans at a certain cafe.”

As he rambled off which cafe he was going to visit tonight, I couldn’t help but smile. 

“The one downtown? Next to the therapist's office?” 

Jesse smiled. “Yeah. It’s Jolly’s favorite, for obvious reasons. We all go there at least once a week. We should all go once you guys get back.” 

“Sure,” I smiled. 

Noah gave me one final smile. “Believe it or not, we’re all stoked you’re joining us.” 

“Lana has said all good things about you guys. I’m excited. And thank you for giving me this opportunity, given my lack of experience.” 

Something twinkled in his almond eyes as he took a few steps towards the rest of the group of people. 

“It was one of the pictures I saw in your portfolio that sold me.” 

With a small wave, I turned and was ready to head back to my car when a loud voice halted me momentarily. 

“6 A.M! DON’T BE LATE!” 

Matt. 

Throwing a hand over my shoulder, I made my way over towards my car and quickly typed up a message to Tay.

Me: How does coffee and a nice book in a cafe sound?

She replied while I was buckling my seat belt. 

Tay: You know I’m always down for that. 

MATT

Carefully, I watched as Faye smiled at Noah before she retreated back to her car. My eyes never left her form even when Noah stepped in front of me, blocking my view. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that I looked over to him.

“What?” 

He shook his head with a playful smile. “I’ve seen that look before. I’ve actually had that look in my own eyes a few times. It’s a familiar feeling.” 

Rolling my eyes, I went back to loading up the trucks. It was already well past six and with plans for the BBQ in less than an hour, we needed to haul ass to finish packing everything. Something I made known to Noah, who continued watching me with a smile. 

“Keep staring, lover boy,” I joked while pushing the crate up the ramp into one of the trucks. 

Noah stood at the bottom of his, hands buried deep in the pockets of his Bad Omens joggers. 

“I invited her tonight.” 

My head snapped over at him. “Why did you do that?” 

“Because we’re going to be with each other for the next three weeks. I thought it would be a good ice breaker before having her jump right into everything tomorrow morning.” 

There was no reason for me to have a guard up when it came to Faye but we’d been burned so many times before with new people joining the Bad Omens crew. Anytime we thought about having someone join our team, I was always the one that voiced my concerns. 

Since Faye was cousins with Lana, I couldn’t do that. Lana gave us her word that we could trust Faye. Although, I knew deep down that wasn’t the sole reason why I’d been closed off. 

I couldn’t allow myself to get close to anyone else, afraid of getting hurt again. I’d seen all of my friends around me find love while I stood on the outside, wondering if I’d ever find that. I told myself that work was the only thing I needed right now. But the moment I took in the sight of Faye and felt my heart stutter in my chest, I knew that it would be hard for me to abide by my own rules. 

I’d become transfixed the moment my eyes landed on her, standing in the middle of the parking lot looking almost like a little sheep that found their way into the den of wolves. How bright her eyes were as they locked with mine. The way her lips moved as she talked to Noah. How they twitched when she spoke my name. 

Matthew. 

My body shivered when I remembered how sweet it sounded falling from her pink lips. 

“Is she coming?” I asked while loading up the last of the crates. 

Noah still wore that annoying smirk and crossed his arms over his chest. “No, she already had plans with a friend.” 

All I did was hum as I shut the door of the truck, doing my best to ignore the way my heart sunk in my stomach. 

“Well, let’s hope she’ll be here on time tomorrow because I’m not waiting for her even if she’s two minutes late,” I adjusted my hat. 

Noah squeezed my shoulder. “Have some faith, Matthew.” 

He quickly scurried away before I could do anything in retaliation for using my full name. A familiar car pulled up which made Noah sprint towards it and wrap his arms around the figure that stepped out from behind the steering wheel. My heart ached while watching the love they shared, like it always did. I wasn’t jealous of either of them. I was jealous of what they had. 

“Matt!” Her voice called over from where Noah had her in his arms. “Are you riding with us?” 

Putting on my best fake smile, I gave her a thumbs up. “Just promise no dessert nicknames the entire drive, please?”

FAYE

Stifling a yawn behind my hand, I let my shoes scuff along the pavement as I walked up the familiar drive, the rising sun casting me in an everglow of orange and golden hues. The birds sang their morning songs and the grass was still wet with the morning dew as I came to a stop in the somewhat empty parking lot. I’d expected everyone to be here, ready to load up, but then again I was ten minutes early. Not wanting to leave my car here for three weeks, I had Tay drop me off. My plan for running into a certain someone failed when we got too caught up watching a crime documentary on her television. 

“You’re early.” 

Whirling around at the voice, I saw Matt leaning against the door of the tour bus drowning in a hoodie and joggers. He gave off a comfortable vibe that nearly matched my own. Knowing we had a long drive to the first city, I opted to wear biker shorts and an oversized shirt; one that caught Matt’s eyes immediately but never saying anything about it.

Adjusting my backpack, I gripped the handle of my suitcase a little tighter. 

“I’m an early bird,” I shrugged. “Figured it was better to be early rather than late.”

Matt hummed, the noise vibrating in his chest, and I felt his burning gaze all over me. We were standing close to each other and I could feel his body heat radiate off of him, encasing me. The sunrise caught the darkness of his eyes causing them to sparkle and I drank in the sight of the faint stubble that peppered his chin. The sharpness of his cheekbones and the way they could cut my finger if I dragged it across it had me halting doing so. The way my skin ignited as his gaze lingered on my face made my heart skip a beat. It was as if he was taking his own mental pictures but never once making a sound or moving. Simply leaning against the bus while I squirmed on my feet. Teal strands of hair fell into my eyes and I gently brushed them away. I could have sworn I had the softest intake of breath from Matt but it was so quiet, I wasn’t sure. 

He nodded towards my suitcase. “Can I?” 

With a nod, I let him take it to put it in the undercarriage part of the bus, the calloused skin of his fingers brushing along my knuckles and instantaneously, I felt something spark inside of me. If Matt felt it, he made no indication and set my suitcase alongside all of the others.  Then with a swift nod towards the door, he motioned for me to follow him up the stairs. 

“Everyone is awake so no need to be quiet,” Matt said. 

When we stepped into the main area of the bus, I felt myself freeze when a few different sets of eyes landed on me. Bryan gave me a wave and a smile while I looked at the four other men that were scattered throughout. I recognized them from not only knowing who Bad Omens were but also Lana’s rundown texts. 

“You must be Faye,” Jolly wiped a hand on a towel as he was stocking the fridge. 

“Nice to meet you,” I shook his hand.

Then after meeting Nicholas, I noticed Nick sitting in the far corner booth of the small kitchen area, a somber smile on his face. 

“You’ll have to excuse him,” Nicholas sighed. “Relationship trouble.”

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. “What’s in the California water? That’s the third relationship trouble I’ve heard of in the last twenty four hours.” 

When Nicholas raised a brow, I explained not only were Nick and Jesse going through something but so was my friend, Tay. 

“Jolly, you better watch out. You could be next,” Steven teased after we exchanged greetings. 

Jolly was silent, muttering something to himself in Sweden before retreating to the back of the bus. From what Lana told me, Jolly was in a relationship but it had been hard for him and his girlfriend. Almost everyone in this friend group had a significant other. Besides Matt and Bryan. 

At the thought of Matt, I quickly peeked through the strands of hair that fell into my face yet again to see that he had sat on one of the couches and kept his attention on his phone. 

“Or Noah’s relationship could be next,” Bryan chuckled. “Him and-.”

“We are perfectly fine, thank you. No need to worry,” Noah’s voice echoed throughout the bus as he stepped into the main area. 

They all gave him a quick wave in greeting and when he saw me standing there, clutching my things, he raised a brow. 

“Did anyone show you to your bunk?” 

I shook my head. “No. I mean, I could find it myself but I didn’t want to make it seem like I’m imposing where I shouldn’t be.” 

My hands shook with nerves and I could practically feel my heart pounding in my throat and ears. It felt like everyone was staring at me, even though I knew it wasn't the case. Noah glanced over to Matt, who still couldn’t be bothered to look away from his phone, and then let out a long sigh. 

“Come on. If my girlfriend found out that I didn’t give you the proper welcoming tour, she’d kick my ass,” Noah smiled before leading me towards the back area of the bus that housed the bunks. 

“Not that you would complain,” Bryan chuckled from behind us. 

“Some of us snore; me included. So I hope you brought some headphones,” Noah joked. 

All I could do was give a small smile and set my backpack down on the empty bunk he pointed too. It was the last one available on the top left, closer to the back lounge. 

It was still early morning and the lack of sleep from last night was beginning to creep deep in my bones. Noah let out a small laugh when he saw me try to hide a yawn behind my hand. 

“You should get some sleep. We’ve got a long drive to the next city,” he suggested.

I waved him off. “I’ll be alright. I feel like maybe I should sit and chat with you guys. Get to know you.” 

“After you,” Noah extended a tattooed arm back to the front of the bus. 

There was only one spot left to sit; right next to Matt. Noah opted to help Jolly set up a little breakfast while I slowly sat down on the couch, purposely leaving a few feet between Matt and I. 

“So, Faye. Lana is your cousin?” Nicholas wondered while sitting across from me. 

I pulled my knees up to my chest, trying to find a comfortable position that would help ease my nerves. “Yeah. Our mom’s are sisters.” 

“Photography runs in the family, huh?” Bryan now asked as he was messing around with his camera. 

“Yeah,” I smiled. “My dad did it as a hobby while I was growing up but I was always interested. When I was old enough and wanted to start myself, he gave me one of his older ones. I don’t use that one as much, only for really special occasions.”

“Lana said you two are pretty close,” Jolly said. 

I nodded before tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “I grew up with four brothers; three older and one younger. So I spent as much time as I could at Lana’s house.”

We all continued to chat for a while, long after the bus finally began moving and the sun rose to its full heightened glory. It surprised me how easy it was to talk to all of them. Well, almost all of them. 

Matt didn’t say one word the entire time, simply kept to himself while typing away on his phone. Never once did I bother to glance over at him with the looming curiosity as to what he was doing on his phone for the last two hours. While everyone made me feel welcome and comfortable, I couldn’t ignore the weird vibe I was getting from Matt. It was as if I was a pest infiltrating a home that was designed to keep me away. But I somehow managed to sneak in through the smallest of cracks. 

Yet I also couldn't ignore the way my heart raced as I sat next to him. Or the way my blood pulsated inside of my veins when he shifted in his spot and our knees bumped against each other. I definitely couldn’t ignore the way Matt’s fingers twitched when I rested my hand between us on the couch. Ever so softly, I felt the calloused pad of this thumb brush along my wrist; so quick I nearly missed it. 

Bryan and I were having a deep conversation on different ways we could work together on this tour that I didn’t realize Matt had retreated to the back of the bus. It wasn’t until I dismissed myself from the group with the muttering of wanting to take a nap that I found Matt standing in the narrow hallway between the bunks. 

I knew I would need to squeeze past him to reach my bunk but it was then I realized he was also climbing down from his bunk; across from mine. 

“Scuse me,” I mumbled while brushing past him, his chest nearly touching mine. 

Silence must have been Matt’s strong suit because yet again, he said nothing. Standing toe to toe with him, I saw those dark eyes stare down at me underneath his hat. His pupils dilated causing his eyes to darken even more when his gaze rested on my lips as I spoke. 

“I need to get up in my bunk,” I breathed, afraid to raise my voice above a whisper. 

Agitation began to weigh heavy within me when Matt still said nothing, simply continued to stare at me. I knew I should keep it in check, not snap at him since he was technically my boss, but if this is how he was going to act the entire three weeks, there would be no possible way I’d be able to keep myself calm. 

“Do you have a problem, Matthew?” I asked while crossing my arms over my chest. 

His lips twitched. “It’s Matt.” 

“That seems like something I’d call you if we were friends. You’ve been giving me the silent treatment since I met you yesterday. So it’s Matthew,” I shrugged. 

Due to the tight space between us, I could feel his warm breath as it brushed over my lips when he cocked his head to the side. Every single fiber of my being felt like it had been set ablaze with that look alone and even though my hands were tucked away, I could still feel them shaking. My heart was beating hard against the cage in my chest and I knew Matt was able to hear it.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and I smelled the briefest scent of mint. The feeling of skin on skin had my eyes casting down to my leg where Matt’s fingers gently grazed over exposed skin of my thigh. I shivered underneath the touch, letting him know how much of an effect he had on me. It shouldn’t be like this, I didn’t know more than a few things Lana told me about him. But somehow he managed to sink his way inside of my mind. 

Last night while I was trying to sleep, I’d been plagued with images of Matt. It didn’t help that our meeting earlier in the evening was short so once I was home and settled, I looked him up on social media. Not much gave him away on Twitter besides the occasional snarky remark that had me shaking my head and videos of racoons that had me smiling. On Instagram, I spent a few minutes scrolling through and mentally liking his pictures. 

Until I actually liked one of his pictures. 

From six months ago. 

It was of him holding a kiwi guava flavored Celisus while standing in front of a cardboard cut out of one. I hadn’t noticed I accidentally liked it until I was scrolling back up a few minutes later and nearly fell out of my bed when I saw the red heart underneath the picture. I knew un liking the picture would do no good. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind Matt had seen the notification. 

Maybe he didn’t since he made no mention of it. Or maybe he had seen it. It would explain the sly smirk playing on his lips at the moment. 

“Consider yourself lucky. I don’t let anyone call me Matthew,” he hummed before slipping past me, back to the front of the bus. 

I stood there for a moment, eyes unblinking, as the scent of him lingered in the air. It filled my senses and brought an oddly calm feeling over me. But that’s not what gave me pause. It was his words.

With a groan, I ran a hand down my face and climbed up into my bunk with the hope that a nap would cool down my heated skin. It wasn’t until I was comfortable in the bunk, wrapped underneath the blanket with my phone, I saw the notification from Instagram that came in over an hour ago; while I was sitting next to him and talking with Bryan. 

Mattxdierkes followed you. 

Mattxdierkes liked your photo. 

“Shit,” I muttered while clicking on the notification. 

It was a picture of me standing in front of the ocean during a gloomy morning, wearing a white cable knit sweater. You could barely see my face due to my teal hair covering it. The caption was a simple wave emoji. It was also posted last year meaning Matt had also done his own stalking. Although, a little voice in the back of my mind told me that this was not an accidental like. Matt meant it, which meant he knew about my own stalking.

Grumbling a slew of curses to myself, I buried my phone underneath the pillow and let the thought of sleep take me away. 

MATT

Running a hand through my long and unruly hair, I did my best to comb out the knots before sliding a hat over it. I twisted and turned my neck to each side, breathing out a soft groan when the necessary bones cracked and popped. Years of touring with my old band and Bad Omens did a number on my back and neck but I tried not to complain too much. I love what I do and the people I do it with. But that didn’t mean I had to love the bunks I slept in. 

The first three days of the tour flew by and with today’s off day, every single one of us was desperate for a relaxing day filled with brunch and touring the city. 

With a quick flick of my eyes over to the bunk across from mine, I noticed that Faye’s was empty with the blanket and pillow fixed neatly. My heart began to race at the thought of her teal hair spread out against the silk pillowcase while she slept. Unlike all of us, she kept the curtain of her bunk open because of this irrational fear that she would suffocate. 

“I hate feeling like I’m enclosed in a tight space,” she shrugged while Bryan jokingly teased her for it. 

Faye almost immediately fit in with all of us, like she’d been working on the crew for years. Night one, her and Bryan found the perfect rhythm together; never once stepping on each other's toes. She understood Bryan was the main photographer so she opted in getting pictures of things he didn’t. Some that involved the sound deck. 

More importantly, me. 

I had every intention of keeping my guard up around her but the more her bright eyes shined at me and the way her melodic laugh reached my ears, I felt those walls slowly starting to chip away. Faye was there from set up to tear down helping all of us, never once complaining. Even after some long days, she always went to bed with a smile on her face; one that I couldn’t stop thinking about. 

When Lana first told us that her cousin would be filling in for her, I immediately did my own research. I found her photography Instagram along with her personal one; it wasn’t until recently that I decided to follow both of them. But from the first moment I saw her most recent picture, Faye took my breath away. 

It wasn’t anything extravagant, a simple selfie in front of a large mirror. She was wearing a golden sundress, showcasing off her long legs and the tattoo on her left arm of six fairies, surrounded by different flowers. Her teal hair cascaded down her back in waves, giving her an even more ethereal aura and it made my heart stutter in my chest. 

I told myself not to get in over my head with these feelings. It was a simple crush that would lead to nothing. She was only joining us for a few weeks and once we returned back to Los Angeles, we would all part ways. No use in getting my heart broken; again. 

But when I received the notification from Instagram about her liking an older picture of mine, I couldn’t stop the smile that came to my face. It was evident I had been on her mind as well. Again, I told myself not to think too much of it because it could have been an honest mistake. 

Was it an honest mistake when she brushed her hand against yours? Or when she stood a little too close to you in the sound deck last night?

Groaning at the voice in my mind, I remembered the scent of Faye as she took a few minute breather during Miracle last night. She’d taken some videos from my spot in the sound deck and decided to hang back for a long moment, watching the set with a look of awe in those bright eyes. I did my best to focus on my work but the scent of her peach shampoo grazed my nose causing me to sigh in content. All of the blood rushed through my body with heat and I felt my cock twitch underneath my sweats when her shoulder brushed against my arm.

“Everything alright?” She asked. 

I nodded, hitting the necessary buttons to cue up the next song. “Yep. Totally fine.”

Everything was not fine. 

I couldn’t stop thinking about the small smile that played on her lips while she watched the guys perform their set. I couldn’t forget the way she smelled or the way my body ignited with just her simple touch. 

What started off as a closed off relationship slowly began to blossom into a growing friendship. I was no longer giving her the cold shoulder, actually conversing with her when we were in the same room. Faye began to warm up to me as well, learning quickly that this “hater mode” people thought I had was only ever directed to people outside of my family. 

She still called me Matthew though and I wasn’t about to admit to anyone how much I liked it when it fell from her pink lips; the ones that were always shiny from the gloss. 

With a groan, I dragged a hand over my face before pulling out my phone to send a text to Noah. 

Me: I’ll be there soon. Woke up late. 

Almost immediately he texted back. 

Noah Seb: Cool. We just got here. Faye should be waiting for you.

“What?” I muttered as I came into view of the front area of the bus, my eyes immediately connecting with those bright hazel ones that began plaguing my every thought. 

Fay was sitting crossed legged on one of the couches with a book in her lap, teal waves falling over her face. I noticed how content she was reading, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. There were a few flowers placed behind her head, intertwined within her hair, and when she finally glanced up from her book due to me walking into view, she gave me a small smile. 

“I was wondering when you were going to wake up,” she pulled out one of the flowers from her hair to use it as a bookmark and then she closed the book, setting it on the seat next to her. 

The Hobbit by J.R.R Tolkien. 

It felt as if my soul had been intertwined with hers, connecting on such a level that I could feel something inside of me pulsating; bringing me closer to Faye. 

This is that bullshit Noah was always jabbering about.

Shaking the thought from my mind, I rubbed a hand over the tattoo on my left arm; the one dedicated to The Lord of The Rings. Anytime I was around her, I always wore long sleeves so she never saw it but now that I wore shorter sleeves thanks to the warmer weather, Faye’s eyes quickly tracked my movement and I heard her suck in a breath. 

“Elvish?” She rose to her feet and motioned towards the script writing along my wrist. 

“Y-yeah. It’s one of my favorite movies,” I rubbed at the back of my neck, suddenly nervous under her gaze. 

Those hazel eyes sparkled as they tracked over every line of ink on my arm and eventually she sighed. “I never thought I’d be jealous of you, Matthew.”

I snorted. “I’ll take that as a win.”

We stood there for a long beat, both just staring at each other, and that magnetic pull I felt earlier was stronger now. It vibrated against my body, almost like it was forcing its way out so it could connect with Faye. 

“We should have a marathon one day. Watch all six movies; The Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings,” she spoke while still looking at the tattoo on my arm. 

My mouth ran dry, trying to figure out what the best way to respond without sounding desperate because that’s all I wanted to do. Maybe we could skip out on brunch and hang back on the bus, just the two of us, and watch them.

Instead, no words came out of my mouth. They were tangled on my tongue and I looked like an idiot standing in front of her with moving lips that said nothing. 

I could feel her starting to pull away from me and desperate to feel some kind of contact again, I let my fingers reach for her hand to link our fingers together until she cleared her throat and motioned towards the outside. 

“We should probably go. I don’t want to keep them waiting.” 

“Sure,” I nodded. 

The walk to the restaurant was quiet as she walked a few paces ahead of me, holding the camera close to her chest. She wore a flowy white sundress, highlighting her skin even more and the soles of her sandals smacked against the concrete making it look like she was floating in the air as she skipped. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I typed out a message to Noah. 

Me: Dude, she was reading The Hobbit. She’s a fan of LOTR.

Noah Seb: Have you guys left yet? I’m starving. 

Rolling my eyes, I replied. 

Me: Did you not see what I said? She was reading The Hobbit! What are the odds she’d be reading that book?

Me: Also, yes we're on our way. 

I glanced up from my phone in time to catch Faye taking a picture of me. 

“Whoever you were texting, must have been serious because of the look on your face,” she informed me in regards to my raised brow. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” I muttered under my breath before texting Noah again, who had yet to respond. 

Me: She saw my LOTR tattoo and made a comment of maybe watching the movies together. I was an idiot and didn’t know what to say so I said nothing. She probably thinks I don’t want to. But I do.

Me: She probably doesn't feel the same. There’s no use getting my hopes up for something that won’t happen. I need to focus on work. 

Noah Seb: Is this how I was? In the beginning?

I snorted. 

Me: No, you two were worse.

Pocketing my phone, I followed step in step with Faye as we turned the corner, the restaurant coming into view. Her aura radiated like wings fluttering, making my heart do the same when she glanced up at me. 

She gave me a smile of thanks as I opened the door for her, her scent was all consuming when she walked past me. The restaurant was busy for a late Saturday morning which made the front waiting area packed causing me to slide up behind Faye. People were brushing past us to find their way out and nearly stumbling into her, I grasped both hands on her hips to keep myself steady. 

“Sorry,” I breathed against the shell of her ear. “Some asshole nearly knocked me over.” 

She giggled, the sound making my stomach flutter. I wasn’t sure what shifted between us from our first meeting, maybe it was the fact that I was starting to open up to her more that I was seeing a different side of Faye; a softer side. 

“It’s alright, Matthew,” she glanced over her shoulder to me. 

She still called me Matthew but I wasn’t about to correct her or tell her how much I loved it.

“Oh, look!” Faye pointed towards the large table in the far corner of the restaurant where everyone had been waiting for us. 

The immense cold I felt when she slipped through my grasp made me shudder and reluctantly, I followed behind her; my eyes never leaving her back. 

Something Nicholas caught but said nothing as I sat next to him. The only other open spot was next to me which is where Faye was, already talking with Jolly. Eyes grazed over the menu, trying to figure out what to get when soft fingers grazed over my arm, causing me to shiver under her touch. 

“What are you going to get?” Faye wondered. 

“Not sure. What about you?” 

She pursed those plump lips and my eyes locked in on them, desperately wanting to know what they tasted like. 

“I can’t decide. The eggs benedict sounds good but the french toast is calling my name,” she sighed dreamily at the pictures of the food. 

For the next while as the waitress came to take our orders, I busied myself on my phone to make sure everything was set up for the show tomorrow. Everyones conversations were hushed around me doing my best to focus on my phone and not the person beside me. The way her voice sounded so magical or the way she looked intently at Noah across the table as he divulged about his relationship. 

Now that he was finally where he wanted to be with her, Noah wouldn’t stop talking about her any chance he could. 

“She was actually the one who suggested I add the woo in The Death of Peace of Mind,” Noah chuckled while taking a long drink of his water. 

“I was wondering where that came from,” Faye said. 

Finally finished with the work on my phone, I set it down just as our food came and the waitress placed the eggs benedict in front of me. Immediately I took half of it and set it on an extra plate, sliding it over to Faye. 

“Matthew,” she smiled. “You don’t need to share your food with me.” 

I shrugged while licking off the sauce from my finger. “This way you get what you wanted.” 

Her eyes were fixated on my thumb gliding over my bottom lip before she seemed to snap out of it and cut her french toast in half to set it on my plate. 

“Wow, sharing food? Matt doesn’t share food with anyone,” Bryan said. “I actually don’t think any of these guys share their food with their girlfriends.” 

Noah snorted. “Excuse me? I’ll remind you I always share with-.” 

Once again their conversations fell away as I ate quietly, every so often glancing over to Faye who was already watching me. There was the smallest bit of powdered sugar on the corner of her lips, almost teasing me to lick it clean. But before I could give in to the urge, she wiped it away with a finger after she caught me staring. 

With the plates cleared from the table and the bill in front of me, I started to grab my wallet the same time Faye began to reach for her purse. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Nick waved her off. “Matthew pays.” 

My eyes sliced into him. “It’s Matt.” 

“Matt pays. Or should I say, the business always pays,” Nick corrected himself. 

“Oh,” Faye’s eyes sparked over at me and she bumped her shoulder with mine. “I knew there was a reason why I liked you.”

On the walk back to the bus, I hung back with Noah and Jolly while Faye and Bryan talked about all the different shots and videos they could get tomorrow night. She’d been wanting to try out the video aspect of her camera and Bryan mentioned that he’d be more than happy to show her how. 

“You’re staring,” Jolly’s voice broke through my trance on Faye’s side profile. 

Pushing his shoulder, I shook my head and focused my attention straight ahead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Noah ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know why you’re trying to hide how you feel about it. It’s clear there’s some kind of feeling there.” 

“The last thing I need right now is a relationship. Especially with someone who works for me. It’s bound to get messy,” I said. 

“You don’t know that, Matt,” Jolly adjusted his sunglasses. “You deserve to be happy too.” 

I shrugged. “She’s twenty five. I’m almost thirty.” 

Noah pulled me to a stop and removed his sunglasses momentarily. “Is that what's stopping you?” 

Sighing, I scuffed my shoe against a rock. “It wouldn’t work out. I’m trying to save us both from heartbreak when it comes eventually.” 

Not wanting to explain my reasoning any further, I gave them a weak smile before walking the last little distance to the bus. But my footsteps faltered when I noticed a small stand set up right next to where our bus was parked. 

Fresh Flowers. 

I lingered on one set of flowers, the vivid color reminding me of someone sweet. While the rest of the guys ascended the bus, I held back to wait in line. Five minutes later, I stepped into the main area of the bus where Faye was sitting back in her previous spot from earlier, The Hobbit perched in her lap again. Those hazel eyes glimmered when she glanced up at me and I swore all of the breath was stolen from my lungs. 

“What’s this?” She motioned to the single flower in my grasp. 

“Uh, Tulips. It reminded me of you,” my voice shook with nerves as I hastily handed the teal flower to her. 

She twirled it in her fingers while bringing it to her nose to smell it. 

“Thank you, Matthew. This was very sweet of you.” 

The smile that played on her lips was one of the most genuine ones I’d ever seen and it made that invisible string inside me vibrate with such a force, I nearly stumbled on my feet. 

“You’re welcome,” I gave her a small smile before making my way to the bunk area of the bus. 

Jolly had been leaning against the kitchen counter with a sly smile on his lips causing me to roll my eyes at him and grumble a few curses under my breath. I could continue to lie to myself and say that I didn’t think of Faye like that. But it was all a lie, everyone knew it. In the short amount of time she’d been a part of our crew, she managed to also become a part of me in a way that had me wondering how the hell that happened.

I thought Noah was crazy for spewing all that shit about soulmates but every time I watched Faye, I couldn’t help but think that maybe he was right. Because the feeling that stirred inside of me every time Faye and I were close to each other was unexplainable. 

Faye was her own mythological being in the sense that she captivated my interests the moment my eyes caught sight of her. The desperation to find out everything I could about her was heavy on my heart. I tried to tell myself that I would never work between us yet every passing moment in her presence told me otherwise. Her spirit was unlike any other. It held so much light, wonder, and magic.

Her name gave way to who she was as a person. 

Faye. 

My little fairy.

FAYE

“Faye, where are you?” 

Cursing at the voice that crackled through the radio, I adjusted the box of merch on my hip so I could answer Steven. 

“I’m grabbing the last box of shirts. Is the back door still propped open?” 

“Yep. But heads up, fans are starting to be let in so it’s already crowded at the merch table.”

“Great,” I grumbled under my breath before carrying the box from the truck back into the venue. 

It had been a very long day and the show hadn’t even started yet. I woke up late after not being able to sleep due to a rough drive from city to city. There had been some confusion on when we’d be allowed into the venue which caused Matt to go full thot blaster mode but even so, we weren’t allowed in until three this afternoon. The guys had to rush through a soundcheck while Steven had trouble setting up the merch table so I spent the last two hours helping him. We were rushing to get things set up in time before doors opened but it proved to be futile when I saw the crowds rushing inside. 

My mind had been held up by one recurring moment that happened earlier today; one that continued to make me blush. 

“Does this sound funky to you?” Folio asked while messing with his drum kit. 

Kooter shrugged. “I think it sounds fine, man. You might just be overthinking it.”

I was walking past the stage when Folio stopped me. “Faye, do the kick pedals sound off?”

With my urging, he messed around with the kick pedals of his drum set which in turn made me shrug. 

“I’m no professional like Kooter but it does sound fine to me.” 

A warm presence was felt behind me before a can dripping with condensation was held in front of my face. 

I peered a glance over my shoulder towards Matt, who shook the Celsius can in front of my face. 

“I figured you’d need this today,” he said. 

A large smile broke out on my face as I took the can, immediately popping it open. “Arctic Vibe? I’ve never had this flavor.” 

Matt rubbed the back of his neck. “It reminded me of your hair.”

We stood like that, him behind me with me turning half of my body towards him. We were so close, I could feel the warmth radiate off of him in droves and when he reached a hand up towards my hair his actions were halted by Folio calling for him. 

“Matt! I need your opinion!”

He left my side with a soft brush of fingers against my hand.

I’d been hurriedly trying to get back inside with my mind full of Matt, I didn’t see the large curb causing me to stumble and drop the box of shirts all over the parking lot. I hissed when the stinging pain burned in my knee and noticed I ripped a large hole in my leggings. Blood oozed from the wound on and I pressed a hand to it trying to stop it. 

“Fuck,” I blew out a shaky breath, doing my best to keep the tears from falling. 

“Faye?” 

Through the tears, I watched as Matt walked out of the venue, worry evident on his face. 

“What happened?” 

“I’m a fucking klutz and tripped,” I mumbled. 

He was quick to kneel in front of me, gently removing my hand to check out the damage to my knee and winced. 

“Come on,” his voice was gentle as his arms lifted me from the ground, carrying me bridal style over towards the tour bus on the other end of the lot. 

“The shirts!” I peered over his shoulder to the scattered pile of Bad Omens merch. 

Matt sighed before motioning to the radio strung over my chest so I pressed down the button. 

“Faye took a nasty fall in the parking lot while carrying the box of shirts. Can anyone scoop them up before someone finds them to sell them on Ebay?” 

I snickered at the distaste in Matt’s voice. 

“I’ve got it,” Noah’s voice came through the radio. “Does anyone need to scoop Faye up?” 

“Already handled,” I replied. 

A round of teasing ‘ooooo’s’ prompted Matt to shut off the radio as we reached the tour bus. All of the blood that wasn’t rushing to the hole in my knee was found warming my cheeks when I noticed how close our faces were to one another. I observed the lines next to his eyes, showing how exhausted he was. It was only one week into the tour and we still had two more to go. There were freckles lining the bridge of his nose that were really prominent when the sunlight casted over his face. He wore his hat backwards, allowing me to gaze into those dark eyes that seemed to go deeper than the ocean with their depths. 

“What?” He questioned, carrying me up the stairs of the bus. 

“No-nothing,” I breathed. 

For the last week I’d been telling myself not to fall for him. I wasn’t here for a relationship. I was here for work. I didn’t need to get distracted with the first pair of eyes that looked at me. 

Even if those eyes seemed to emit light whenever I caught them watching me; which was pretty often. 

Given the small space in the back area of the bus, Matt had to maneuver us so he was able to carry me into the bathroom. 

“I can walk,” I reminded him as he kicked open the bathroom door. 

Matt made a noise that sounded like I offended him while setting me down on the edge of the bathroom counter. The bathroom was the smallest part of the bus and with me sitting on the counter, Matt had to stand between my legs. Due to the slight height difference, I was the one staring down at him for once, only by an inch or two. 

My eyes tracked as his throat bobbed when he took a deep breath, spreading his hands on either side of me to rest on the edge of the counter. Our shared body heat wrapped around us in a makeshift cocoon, locking us in. 

“Does it hurt?” Matt’s voice was barely above a whisper. 

“A bit, yeah,” I admitted with an even quieter voice than his. 

His eyes flicked down to my lips before slowly he kneeled in front of my injured knee to get a better look at it. 

“Well, I don’t think you need stitches but I should clean it to get a better look at it,” his gaze swept up to me. 

When I nodded, he rummaged underneath the sink between my legs to pull out the first aid kit. 

“How connected to these leggings are you?” 

My brows furrowed at his question. “Huh?” 

The round of fabric ripped echoed in the small confines of the bathroom and I gaped at Matt who managed to rip the leggings away from me, knee down. The entire action made something burn inside of me. The way the muscles in his arms flexed as he pulled the last bit of the material away from my leg. 

Fuck, why was that so hot? 

Maybe because you want him to do that to the rest of your clothes. 

“Please don’t kick me,” Matt said. 

“What-Fuck!” I bellowed when the sting of hydrogen peroxide seeped into my open wound. 

Out of a normal reaction, I jerked my leg only for Matt to wrap his strong arm around it, keeping locked against him. 

“I said please,” he exasperated while keeping his eyes on mine. 

“It fucking hurt!” I yelled. 

His jaw ticked. “I didn’t realize how much of a baby you were.” 

I scoffed in disbelief. “Has anyone told you how much of an ass you are sometimes?” 

The arm that wasn't holding onto my leg shrugged. “Yes, but not to the ones I care about.” 

I sat on his words for a moment, trying to understand if I heard him right. 

“Does that mean you care about me?” I finally voiced my curiosity. 

Matt tenderly brushed a cotton ball across the cut on my knee before his warm breath fanned across it causing me to shiver. 

“I’m squished in this small ass bathroom to take care of your knee, what do you think?” 

He gave his infamous Matt Dierkes smirk and I rolled my eyes playfully before watching him clean the wound on my knee then placing a small bandage over it. 

“Am I going to live, doctor?” I teased. 

Matt hummed deep, the sound vibrating in his chest as his fingers grazed up and down my exposed leg, the sensation sending shockwaves through my veins. He slowly rose to full height again, face now meters from mine, and I sucked in a breath when I felt his warm breath fan over my lips. 

“I think,” his hand ghosted over my hip. “I think you might need another check up later. Just to make sure.”

My cheeks burned and I cast my eyes down to my hands that were in my lap, unable to meet his intense gaze. 

“Fairy.”

Calloused fingers lifted my chin, forcing me to lock eyes with him, and I scrunched up my nose when I realized what he had called me. 

“What did you say?” My voice croaked out. 

Matt’s cheeks were warm to the touch as my finger grazed over those defined cheekbones. His eyes fluttered shut with every tender stroke against his smooth skin and he let out a content sigh. 

“Fairy,” he repeated and it made my stomach flip three times over. 

He traced over the fairy tattoos on my arm, following the intricate designs of the flowers, and I leaned in closer to his touch. It managed to awake something inside of me that I never knew lay dormant. It was as if a flame slowly ignited with each passing touch or stolen glance and now that Matt’s lips were so close to mine, an outburst of something I wasn’t quite ready to understand was moments away from happening. 

“No one’s ever called me that before,” I admitted with a shaky breath. 

“Do you like it?”

I swallowed thickly while tracing my nail over the slight pout of his bottom lip. “I do.”

The noise that erupted from Matt’s throat was almost sinful and I felt something twinge inside of me. 

“Good, because it stays. Fairy.”

Dark eyes weighed heavy on my awaiting lips as hands held onto my thighs, spreading my legs further apart for Matt to step into. I hesitantly reached for his shirt, the material clinging to my fingertips. The magnetic pull that was always felt between us was stronger now. My soul was practically reaching for his, desperate for a connection it had been looking for ever since I was born. 

I never was one to believe in soulmates growing up but my father was certain that mine was out there because he had found his in my mother. Yet with the way my soul felt alive inside of me, I couldn’t help but think that maybe my father was right. 

“Matthew,” I gasped when his lips ever so gently brushed along mine. 

“Fairy, I-.” 

“HOLY SHIT!” 

Both of us pushed away from each other at the shrill voice that seemed to bounce off the walls of the bathroom and when my eyes landed on an unfamiliar figure standing in the doorway of the bathroom with a shocked look on her face. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Matt snapped while standing in front of me in a way to block me. 

The young female blinked a few times as her mouth mimicked a fish out of water. “I thought I’d catch Noah.” 

I could see the muscles in Matt’s back constricted as the rage began to build inside of him. Some fan had managed to get onto the bus with hopes of catching Noah doing something. 

Fucking unbelievable.

“Ash, we’ve got an issue on the tour bus. We could use you over here,” I spoke into my radio after turning it back on. 

“Everything alright?” Ash’s voice came through. 

Matt ripped the radio from my hand. “We have a strangler on the bus.” 

“What the fuck? How did that happen?” 

Noah’s voice was filled with his own anger and agitation because he felt as if all of our personal space was tainted by some fan that couldn’t respect our boundaries. 

A look of guilt crossed Matt’s features which gave me pause on why he felt that way. We weren't doing anything wrong. It wasn’t our fault a fan snuck up on the bus. 

Soon, thunderous steps echoed in the bus and I quickly hopped off the counter and shield myself behind Matt even more. The fan’s head whipped wildly from us to now Ash who arrived with another security guard and Noah in tow. 

“I just wanted a picture with Noah!” She bellowed while throwing her hands up. “I didn’t expect to see these two kissing!” 

All the blood drained from my face when I realized that she must have been standing there for longer than we thought. 

“We weren’t kissing, I was bandaging up her knee,” Matt said while clenching his fists at his side. 

My eyes snapped up from the dirty floor of the bathroom and quietly scoffed at his words. Technically we didn’t kiss but for him to act like it almost didn’t happen made my stomach drop. 

While Ash and the other guard escorted the girl off of the bus and most likely off the grounds in general, Noah’s eyes narrowed at us. 

“How long was she in here for?” He asked with his hands on his hips. 

Matt ran a hand over his face. “Man, I don’t know. I was in here helping Faye when that chick popped up out of nowhere.” 

“Faye?” Noah’s voice softened when he took one glance at the way my lips turned down in a low scowl. “Everything alright?” 

“Fine,” I blew out a shaky breath and brushed past Matt out of the bathroom. 

“Fairy.”

Stopping momentarily in the tight space of the hallway, I glanced back at Matt and gave him my best forced smile “I’m good. I’m going to change my pants and then I’ll meet you guys inside.” 

NOAH

I followed Matt closely as we stepped off the bus to give Faye some privacy and when we were out of earshot, I pulled him to a stop. 

“You kissed her?” I asked. 

He sighed while taking off his hat to shake out his hair. “No, well almost. I probably would have if that fan hadn’t snuck up on the bus. Which, I don’t even know how they did. If I wasn’t so distracted with Faye maybe-.” 

I cut him off by grabbing his shoulders. “Matt, that wasn’t your fault. Unfortunately, this shit happens.” 

“This could have been much worse,” he said, anger still heavy in his voice. “I should go help Ash deal with that. Be a manager and not some dude distracted by some crush.”

“Why do you keep trying to tell yourself that this is only some crush? It’s clear both of you have feelings for each other. Just admit it to each other.” I said. 

Matt hesitated for a long moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “I can’t admit something knowing that in the end, it won’t work out. I’m her boss. That’s all I can be.” 

I furrowed my brows. “You don’t know that things won’t work out.” 

Before Matt could respond, Faye stepped out of the bus with her camera clutched around her neck and paid no mind to either of us as she scurried inside the venue; his eyes never leaving her. 

“Is this because of your own fears that you’re keeping yourself from something that could potentially make you happy?” I wondered. 

He snorted before placing his hat back on. “You see a shrink once a week and now you think you’re some great philosopher.” 

Playfully pushing him, we began to walk back towards the venue step in step. “She knows a thing or two about relationships. Why do you think mine is flourishing right now?” 

Once inside, we took the back hallway towards the greenroom where everyone had been hanging out. Matt’s eyes immediately found Faye who was sitting on the couch setting up her camera for tonight. The way he watched her so intently brought a small smile to my face because it was something I would do. He could tell himself a thousand times over that this relationship wouldn't work because he’s her boss but with that gillmer of light that shined in his eyes whenever he watched Faye, we all knew those words meant nothing. 

“Don’t rid yourself of happiness, Matt,” I squeezed my best friend's shoulder. “You deserve it.” 

All he did was hum, still keeping his eyes trained on Faye. 

FAYE

The crowd was electric tonight, feeding off the energy Bad Omens radiated from the stage. It put a big pep in my step as I found myself bobbing my head along to the music while snapping countless pictures of them. It helped keep my mind off of the almost kiss in the tour bus bathroom but now that I had decided to let Byran work the main stage and saunter over towards the sound deck, all I could think about was Matt. 

How close he was to me in the small space. 

How warm his body felt against mine and the way he grasped onto me like I would slip through his fingers. 

I wanted to know how he tasted, how his lips felt as they moved against mine. 

At first, I was upset when he brushed off the almost kiss but the more I thought about it, I realized that maybe it was better he did. We both got lost in the haze that we nearly cost Bad Omens a lot with that fan sneaking up on the bus. So I told myself that I needed to focus on my job which is what I originally was here for. 

The second I stepped into the sound desk, Matt’s eyes quickly found mine from underneath the rim of his hat. It was the intermission part of the show so Matt had been typing away on his phone but when he saw me, quickly he pocketed it. 

“Hi,” he said over the music and noise from the crowd. 

I swallowed thickly. “Hi.”

He shifted in his spot. “How’s your knee?” 

“Hurts like a bitch but I’ll live,” I shrugged while holding onto my camera.

Silence for a long beat before Matt motioned to the stage. 

“How’s it going up there?” 

“Good,” I nodded while taking a step towards him. “Everything sounds great. But I wanted to get a look at the visuals from here if that’s alright?

He extended a hand next to him. “You don’t have to ask, Faye.”

Slinking up next to him, I sucked in a breath when the familiar feeling of Matt encased around me. It pulled me further and further down the abyss that was him and no matter how hard I tried to crawl my way out, I knew it was futile. My heart desperately wanted to be here. 

Neither of us said anything, Matt clicking away on his laptop and me quickly checking my emails. I’d been waiting on an important one the last few days and the anxiety of not knowing if I got the job or not was making it hard to focus on other things. 

Besides Matt. 

I knew this job with Bad Omens was temporary but being on the road with them made me realize that I thrived in this life and I wanted more of it. 

“Everything alright?” Matt asked when he saw my shoulders fall. 

Shoving my pocket into the back pocket of my jeans, I gave a half shrug. “I applied to be a full time photographer for a band but haven’t heard anything yet.” 

“What band?” 

“Hollow Souls. I saw them for the first time on tour with nothing,nowhere and knew I wanted to work with them. Y/N’s energy on stage is insane. I got great shots of her I wish she could have seen,” I said with a sigh. 

The smile that spread out on Matt’s face made my heart flutter but he said nothing, simply moved around me to click a few things on the sound board when he realized it was the end of the intermission.

“What are you doing?” I asked. 

“Do you want to start the intro for Bad Decisions?” He smirked. 

My eyes doubled. “What? I don’t know how.” 

Matt pointed to something on his laptop then I felt his warm breath against my ear when he moved closer to me. 

“Click it in three,” his fingers trailed down my spine

My own fingers shook as it hovered over the buttons. 

“Two,” he now slipped behind me. 

His broad chest pressed right up against my back and I could feel his cock against the swell of my ass. I bit my lip when one of his hands slipped underneath my sweater, grazing over my heated skin. 

“One,” his hands now rested on both sides of me, gripping the ends of his sound desk to lock me in.

With a gleeful smile, I clicked on Bad Decisions, the intro starting along with the visuals on the screens. 

“Good job,” he mused in the crook of my neck. “If photography doesn't work out, you could always be my assistant.” 

Ignoring the way my stomach flipped at his praise, I slowly turned in his embrace and smiled up at him while taking his hat, and putting it on. “In your dreams.” 

With a fit of giggles, I slipped out from underneath his arms and only for him to wrap an arm around my midsection, pulling me back into his chest. 

“I need my hat, fairy,” he breathed against my neck. 

Turning my head towards him, I let my words linger over his lips before sneaking away from the sound desk, still wearing his hat. 

“You’ll have to catch me, first.”

Y/N(Angel)

Taking a sip from my coffee, I clicked away at my laptop while the hustle and bustle of the cafe behind me fell acted as a white noise while I worked. I’d been busy searching through a list of potential candidates for Hollow Souls new photographer. After Lana did our new promo shots, I still felt guilty for taking her away from her main job with the guys, so Malcolm, Chase, and I decided that we would need our own full time photographer. 

“How’s it going?” Astrid asked while setting a plate of chocolate mochis in front of me. 

I groaned. “Not that great. I thought they’d be at least one but so far, a whole lot of nothing.” 

Giving me a somber smile, she went back to working the register as my phone buzzed on the counter next to me. 

Matt: I need to ask you something. 

Raising a brow, I put my work on hold for a moment to respond to him. 

Me: I am at your service. 

Me: Also, isn’t BO on stage right now? Shouldn’t you be working?

Matt: Intermission.

Matt: How did you know Noah was the one you wanted?

“That’s a loaded question,” I muttered to myself before replying. 

Me: It wasn't really a moment. More so a feeling. It’s when my heart felt empty when he was gone but when he was around, it felt full. Cliche, I know. But that’s the only way to describe it. 

Me: Does this have something to do with a certain blue haired photographer?

Matt: Noah told you? 🙄

I giggled at his choice of emoji.

Me: Mochi tells me everything.

Me: Don’t tell him I said his nickname to you. He still likes to pretend no one knows. 

Matt: I’m going to get back at him, I swear. He thinks he’s some sort of philosopher now talking about how I shouldn’t rid myself of happiness because of my own fears.

“That does sound like him,” I smiled while taking a sip of my now cold coffee. 

Me: He’s right, you know. You do deserve happiness, Matt. I haven’t seen you two together but from what I hear, it seems like both of you are smitten for each other. 

Matt: She was reading The Hobbit, Y/N! Out of all the books she could be reading, why that one? 

Matt: And her smile? Fuck, it pierces my heart every time. 

Matt: Don’t even get me started on her laugh. The way the skin next to her eyes crinkle when she laughs. I want to be the one that gets to hear that every day.

I smiled at how he was talking about her, knowing the exact feeling he was going through. I’d felt it with Noah many times before. 

Me: Tell her that. Don’t let Boss Matt get in the way of the happiness you deserve. 

Matt: That’s the thing, I am her boss. I don’t think it’s a good idea if I get involved with her. We still have two weeks left on tour. What if something goes sour and it doesn’t work out? I can’t risk that.  

Matt: Fuck, she’s here. I have to

I waited for another text to come through after the unfinished one but after a moment, I realized he must have got caught up with something so switching from his texting thread to Noah’s, I typed out a message I knew he would see later when he was off stage. Yet I paused at the unread text from Noah that I must have missed earlier. 

Mochi 🍡: 10 more days and you’re finally going to be sleeping next to me. I miss you so much angel. I’m never going to let you go. 

With heat creeping to my cheeks, I broke out in a huge smile knowing that soon I’d be joining them for the rest of their tour. 

Me: Matt is sooooo smitten with Faye.

Me: Also, facetime me later when you’re back on the bus. I want to see your mochi face. 🍡🍡

About twenty minutes later, after Malcolm and Chase joined me at Fika, we were about to give up on our search for a photographer when Matt’s new text changed our minds. 

Matt: Answer Faye’s email. She sent in her application and resume. 

I raised a brow before telling Chase to search up Faye’s name in my inbox. 

“It went to spam,” he said while showing me the email that had a pretty lengthy resume attached. 

Malcolm read it over my shoulder. “Is this the girl filling in for Lana right now?” 

“Yeah. She seems to have Matt pretty smitten,” I said while working out a reply email. 

“Matt Dierkes? Smitten?” Chase chuckled while leaning farther back into his chair. “I find that hard to believe.”

After hitting send on the email, I quickly sent a text to Matt. 

Me: I hope you know that your input had nothing to do with this.

Matt: She deserves this more than anyone.

FAYE

I sat on the edge of the stage, legs swinging in the air, as I clicked through all of the photos I took tonight. I paused on one that made my heart beat unevenly in my chest. 

Matt in the sound deck after I’d taken his hat. His hair was unruly but his eyes were transfixed on his equipment as he worked. There was a sense of peace on the soft features of his face as he did something that he loved. 

Ruckus voices carried from the open side door of the venue where everyone had been loading up the trucks but I paid them no mind, still clicking through my pictures. 

“I like it when I tickle the cervix,” Jolly chuckled. 

My eyes snapped up from underneath the hat and glanced over to the group of guys intime to see Noah eat a tomato whole causing me to grimace. 

Matt snickered. “I’d like to nut in her hard.” 

I titled my head at the guys as they continued to laugh at their obvious talks about sex. But when those dark eyes landed on me, Matt’s shoulders stiffened. 

“Shit,” Nicholas cursed. “Sorry Faye. We sometimes forget that it’s not just a big group of guys working.”

I waved them off, knowing that their sex talk didn’t bother me. Although, Matt’s statement made my face grow a deep crimson. 

“I’m more so stuck on the fact that Noah just raw dogged a tomato like that,” I admitted with a shiver. 

He shrugged. “I fucking love tomatoes.” 

While the rest of them finished taking out the last bit of equipment, Matt came to sit next to me at the end of the stage. Both of our legs swayed together, every so often our feet would knock into each other. 

“Have you checked your email recently?” He asked. 

“No,” I sighed while setting my camera off to the side. “I’m starting to think that they might have passed on me.” 

Matt bumped his shoulder with mine before throwing his hair into a low bun. “Maybe you should check it again.” 

“Why? So my heart can break even more?” I semi-joked while pulling out my phone but froze when I read the new email. 

Dear Faye, 

First off I’d like to apologize for how long it took us to respond. For some reason your application went to our spam folder. Chase, Malcolm, and I would love it for you to officially join our team! If you accept, we’ll send over the necessary documents for you to sign and we can get you started as soon as you return from your contract with Bad Omens. 

Talk soon! 

Hollow Souls

“Oh shit!” I exclaimed while nearly dropping my phone. “I got the job!” 

Before I could register exactly what happened, I found myself jumping onto Matt who fell back against the old wood of the stage. His hands rested on my hips keeping me in place while I gazed down at him, my legs locking him in on both sides. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath as those eyes drank in the sight of me straddling him. 

“Fairy,” he lifted his chin up towards me. 

Thoughts of our almost kiss in the tour bus bathroom crept into the forefront of my mind and all I wanted was to finally feel those lips on mine. Days of constant flirting and stolen glances led up to this moment yet I hesitated with fear of making the first move. His eyes flicked down to my awaiting lips; a silent question. 

“Please,” I whimpered. 

Strong hands gripped the back of my head, knocking off his hat that I still wore, and forced me to those lips I’d been craving and when we finally collided it was as if the stars exploded in the sky. Goosebumps rose to my skin and when Matt’s tongue glided over my bottom lip, wanting entrance into my mouth, I accepted with a moan. Our lips molded together perfectly, almost as if we were made for one another. Our souls connected in a tangle of webs, our desire growing stronger and stronger as our tongues fought for dominance. I linked my hands with Matt’s, locking them above his head and I rutted my hips deeper into his, brushing my clit against the hardness of his cock. He groaned into my mouth while trying to free his hands from my grip. I nipped at his bottom lip before devouring them again, reveling in the lingering taste of his drink from earlier. 

“Matthew,” I keened against his lips.

Finally he was able to break free from my grasp on his wrists and he slid up a hand underneath my shirt. Fingers grazing at the bottom of my bralette, playing with the lacey material. 

A clearing of a throat caused me to scramble off of his lap, fixing my shirt in the process. Matt swiftly sat up while not so discreetly fixing himself and when our eyes locked in on the promoter of the venue, I heard Matt mutter something under his breath before rising to his feet, placing the hat back on his head. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Jason, the prompter, asked with a clear look of annoyance on his face. 

“No. I apologize for that,” Matt didn’t bother to look in my direction.

Jason made a noise in the back of his throat. “Well, if you’re finished with that. I’m ready to close out the final bill.” 

“I'll meet you in your office,” Matt said with a thick voice, hands resting in his pockets. 

Jason flicked his eyes over towards me as I sat on the edge of the stage yet again, hiding my burning embarrassment behind my hair. His footsteps echoed in the vast emptiness of the venue and when he was gone, Matt let out a long groan while running a hand over his face. 

“Faye,” his voice was stern. “That was completely unprofessional.” 

My head snapped over towards him, rage consuming me. “You’re equally to blame, Matthew. You didn’t stop it. All day you’ve been teasing me so don’t act like this was my fault.” 

Even though his eyes softened, the tone in his voice didn’t. “I know I’m also to blame. But that can’t happen again. I’m your boss.” 

Doing my best to keep the burning tears at bay, I snatched my camera and jumped off the stage. “Whatever you say, boss.”

The rage was still all consuming as I stepped outside, the chilly night air brushing against my heated skin, and when Noah took in sight of my agitated state, he gently stopped me from stomping into the bus. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

I let out a staggered breath, feeling those damn tears prick the corner of my eyes. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

Noah’s brows furrowed from underneath the hood of his Hereditary sweater. “Are you sure? You came barreling out of that door like you were on a mission to chew someone's head off.”

For a moment, I stood silent as I tried to gather my thoughts on everything that happened the last ten minutes. Me checking my email on Matt’s request, to find out I got the job with Hollow Souls, and then our kiss that was abruptly interrupted by the promoter. But something stood out among the rest, causing me to purse my lips. 

“How did Hollow Souls know I’m on tour with you? I never made it public knowledge,” I asked Noah. 

He blinked, almost taken aback by my words. “What about Hollow Souls?” 

I then divulged on how I applied to be their full time photographer and how I ended up getting the job. 

“Oh,” Noah scratched the back of his neck. “Y/N’s my girlfriend.”

My jaw went slack at the sudden revelation, all of the pieces slowly clicking into place. 

“Did you make her give me the job?” I asked. 

“I promise you, Faye, I haven’t talked to her about it. I didn’t even know you were applying to be their photographer,” Noah assured me with a gentle squeeze of my shoulder. 

“Who else would have told them,” I muttered to myself. 

Suddenly the back door of the venue opened and Matt walked out with furry eyes. 

“That stunt nearly lost us the contract here for future gigs,” he sneered. 

I blinked at him, taken aback by his sudden change of demeanor. He was even angrier than before. 

“That stunt?” I scoffed. “You mean our kiss?” 

Noah’s head whipped between us and Jolly, who had been loading up the production truck, froze at my words. 

“What we did was completely unprofessional, Faye. I had to talk down the prompter not to black list us from here,” Matt threw a hand back towards the venue. 

“Did you tell Hollow Souls to give me the job?” I crossed my arms over my chest. 

He blinked as his lips parted to speak, only to be met with silence; the silence that gave me my answer. Every high I felt from not only getting my dream job but the kiss we shared evaporated to the concrete beneath my feet. But I refused to let anyone see how defeated I was so I held my head up high with slits for eyes as I zoned in on Matt. 

“I sincerely apologize for my unprofessional actions that involved you. I can assure you that it won’t happen again.” 

Not bothering to hear another word from him, I brushed past Matt onto the bus.

MATT

A slew of grumbled curses fell from my lips as I clicked away at my laptop with an aggressive finger. Exhaustion had been weighing heavy on my shoulders causing dark circles under my eyes which made my friends worry. I assured them with a grunt that I was fine but everyone knew that was bullshit. Today, however, no one dared speak to me because they knew I was minutes away from saying something I knew I shouldn’t. 

It had been a day of constant fuck ups. First, we were stuck in bumper to bumper traffic in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin, nearly missing our call time at the venue. Then while setting up our equipment, one of the techs nearly dropped Jolly’s guitar to the ground, almost breaking it. I’d never seen Jolly that shade of crimson as he did it best not to snap at the poor tech. More recently, I’d spent the last ten minutes trying to find the mix for Nowhere To Go on my system but it was as if it was wiped clean from my hard drive. 

Yet the worst part of this shitty day? Faye hadn’t spoken one word to me in over forty eight hours. Guilt ate away at me for how I acted in regards to the kiss. It was one of the best ones I had and I couldn’t stop thinking about how her body felt on top of mine, those lips nipping and pulling at mine. She tasted sweet like honey and I found myself becoming addicted to Faye, desperate for another hit. 

But it was unprofessional where we did it. It should have been in the private confines of a secluded room or our bus. We nearly lost a big contract with the previous promoter and with a lot of sweet talking for next time we played there, I was able to smooth things over. 

Which is why I meant what I told Faye. I was her boss and we needed to remain professional. We couldn’t allow our growing desires for each other cloud what was right. 

So you’re saying your feelings for her aren't right? 

Muttering away the thoughts, I leaned farther back into my chair in the green room with my laptop still perched on my lap desperately trying to find where the fuck that track went. The room was filled with crew members who were taking their breaks from setting up. We should have been sound checking but because of the missing track, we were hours behind schedule. The constant chatter from everyone in the room however sounded like nails on a chalkboard so with a snap of my laptop, I tucked it under my arm and stormed out of the green room. I needed to find somewhere quiet to work. 

Stepping out into the bright sun, I tucked my hat farther over my eyes but halted when a strained laugh caught my attention. I set down my laptop on one of the tables in the outdoor catering area just in time to see Faye talking with the guitar players of the opening band that had been supporting Bad Omens. 

Tyler.

“So tomorrow is an off day,” Tyler mentioned while taking a small step towards Faye. “Do you have any plans?” 

I watched as Faye shifted on her feet, playing with the ends of her teal hair. She had it down this afternoon, it blowing with the tender breeze that brought a chill to my bones even though I was dressed in a hoodie and joggers. 

That or the fact that Tyler was standing too close to her. 

Those bright eyes I found myself drowning in began to roam around her surroundings, as if she was looking for something. Or someone. When they landed on me, I would have missed the way she took a small intake of breath if I hadn’t already been watching her. 

“Yeah, I do,” she said, never taking her eyes off of me. “I still have to work.”

Tyler took a step towards Faye, reaching for the hand that was gripping her hair. 

“Cancel them. I’ve got this great thing planned for both of us.” 

Suddenly forgetting the issues with the set, I stalked towards them head-on. My eyes narrowed at Tyler, anger festering low in my gut when I noticed he still hadn’t removed his fingers from her wrist. 

“I’m not going to cancel my plans. That would be rude of me,” Faye’s soft voice eased away the anger slightly within me. 

When she tried to step away from Tyler, his grip around her wrist tightened causing her to squirm in his grasp. 

“Just make up an excuse. You’re sick. I’m sure whoever you have plans with would understand.”  

Faye’s eyes dropped to the grip around her just as I reached them, hands balled up to fists at my side. 

“Tyler, you’re nice-,” she started. 

Tyler rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Come on, Faye. Just one night. We can fuck then go our separate ways.” 

The shocked and disgusted expression that covered her beautiful features when Tyler pressed a kiss to her cheek was the tipping point. It was a list of things the last few days since we kissed. Faye ignoring me, not being able to find the missing track, not having my daily Celsius drink, and now seeing this asshole pressuring Faye; I was ready to combust. 

“Faye,” my voice was tight, along with the grip around the wire of my radio as it hung around me. “Are you alright?” 

Tyler’s gaze bounced between the both of us as I stood next to her. “We were talking, Matt.” 

I threw my shoulders back, puffing my chest. “Really? Because it sounded like you were forcing her into something she didn’t want.” 

Faye finally removed herself from Tyler’s grasp and slipped behind me. “We’re done here.” 

Tyler’s eyes bounced between Faye and me, assessing the situation until a smug smile curled his lips. 

“Oh so that’s it, you two are fucking?” 

My heart damn near jumped in my throat when I heard Faye’s soft intake of breath.

FAYE

“Oh so that’s it, you two are fucking?” 

Tyler pointed between Matt and I, causing my breath to get caught in my throat as my head snapped over towards Matt, who continued to stand toe to toe with Tyler. I nearly stumbled when my heart dropped to my stomach while I awaited Matt’s answer. 

There had been a crowd gathering and when I took sight of Noah’s face as he stepped down from the bus, I knew that whatever was about to happen wasn’t going to be good.

Shit.

“Faye is a coworker of mine. I saw she was uncomfortable because of you so I stepped in. That’s all,” Matt shrugged. 

I swallowed the burn of tears as I cast my head down at the camera in my hands. There were plans tonight to live stream Bad Omens concert and since it was a special occasion, I brought out my special camera for this; my fathers old one.

Tyler’s next words made the air shift around us as I glanced up in time to see Matt’s jaw tick. 

“Damn, her pussy is that bad, huh?”

Everything happened all too quickly, almost like a blur of shouted curses and flying fists. Noah and Bryan stepped forward as Matt shoved Tyler causing me to stumble over my feet, dropping my camera to the concrete with me. I landed on my ass, scrapping my palms as I threw my hands down to support my fall. 

Matt’s fist landed on Tyler’s jaw right before Jolly yanked him away but that didn’t stop him from yelling at Tyler. 

“I didn’t start this but I damn sure finished it, fucker!” He bellowed. 

Jolly gave Matt his own shove before running a hand through his hair. “Fucking stop! Look what you did!” 

Following Jolly’s finger, Matt gasped when he saw me lying on the ground, holding a broken camera in my bloody and shaking hands. Bryan was kneeling next to me, slowly helping me to my feet as the tears I fought so hard to keep back began flowing down my cheeks. My fathers old camera sat in crumbled pieces within my hands, irreplaceable and unfixable. 

“Fairy,” Matt’s voice was soft as he reached for me.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I seethed while yanking my arm away from him. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even think of me.”

“Faye,” his voice was louder now as he called after me, watching me scurry into the bus to hide from all those pitiful gazes that lingered. 

BRYAN

With a frown, I watched as Faye nearly stumbled up into the bus due to the tears clouding her eyes and I swiftly turned on my feet towards Matt, who was being held back from Tyler by Noah and Jolly. Both of the Nicks were trying to deescalate the situation with the promoter of the venue that was threatening to cancel the show tonight due to the unnecessary violence. Everything had become so fucked in a matter of seconds with Tyler’s words and now, the anger Matt felt for the situation was directed back onto him. 

“Dude, stop!” I snapped while stepping between Matt and Tyler but keeping my eyes directly on the former. “Did you not realize what you just did?” 

Matt’s jaw was rigid with his anger but he eventually looked my way. 

“You two caused Faye to fall down to the fucking ground. Her hands are cut up pretty good but that doesn't matter because something that’s irreplaceable broke. All because of you two fucking idiots.” 

I wasn’t the one to curse this much but the second I saw the camera fall to the ground, immediately I felt the pain that stabbed Faye in the chest. 

Matt opened his mouth to protest but I held up a hand to stop him. “You claim you need to be the manager, well fucking act like it. You created a scene, fix it!”

Not bothering to stick around for a rebuttal, I ran over to the bus and bounded up the steps just in time to see Faye dotting her blotchy cheeks with a tissue. 

“Faye?” I said quietly. “Do you need anything?” 

She choked on a sob while forcing a shaking hand towards the mess of broken camera pieces on the table. 

“I need my fathers camera back! Do you know how old it is? What I had to do to make sure it was usable? Everything, all the pictures and memories gone because of-of,” she choked on another sob so I pulled her into my embrace.

“I know,” I hushed her with a soothing circle against her back. “Matt never meant for it to go that far. He feels like shit, although he might not show it right now. But he cares.” 

“Right,” she scoffed while pulling from my embrace. “He has a funny way of showing it.” 

I gave her a small smile. “Matt is closed off with a lot of people which makes them get the wrong impression of him. But with the people he cares about, he’d protect them. Which is what he was trying to do with Tyler but I think his feelings for you blinded him on what was the correct way to approach that.”

Faye stayed silent for a moment, letting my words digest, before she gave a small nod. I knew it wouldn’t change the issues plaguing them. That was something they needed to work out themselves but even if my words helped a bit, that’s all I could do. 

“Come on,” I motioned towards the broken camera. “Let’s see what we can do.”

MATT

My soul was calling out into the void, searching for the connection it once had and desperate to have it again. It felt like everything had been drained from me the last couple of days no matter how hard I tried to fix things. I spent countless hours looking for that specific camera to replace it for Faye. I knew it wouldn’t replace the sentimental value and all the memories it held but maybe it could ease the pain that swam in her heart. 

The fight with Tyler happened days ago and after we both apologized to Faye, she seemed to slip into herself. That usual brightness of her soul dimmed as she went about working, never once interacting with any of us. We had four days left of tour and she mentioned to Bryan in passing that she couldn’t wait for the last day because that meant new opportunities. 

With Hollow Souls. 

Y/N had reached out to assure Faye that they hired her because of her resume not because we all knew each other. That seemed to ease away some of her worries and I could tell she was excited to start working for them. 

But my heart and soul weren’t ready to let her go quite yet. 

After closing down the sound deck, another successful show in the books, I racked my brain with ideas on how to make things up to Faye when an airy giggle reached my ears. 

“We should definitely meet up once the tour ends,” Faye smiled warmly at Greg, the drum tech for Before We Fall. “It will be good for us.”

Greg agreed with a side hug, wrapping his arms around Faye. “I’ll text you once things slow down and we can meet up.” 

“Can’t wait!” She beamed that smile I found myself falling deeper and deeper for. 

When Greg and Faye went their separate ways, the familiar jealousy rage I felt when I saw her talking with Tyler festered inside of me, spreading through my veins, yet this time I took a different approach than violence. I followed on Faye’s heels as she exited the venue and ascended up the dark bus. Everyone else was still inside helping with the tear down. 

“Faye,” I breathed her name, causing her to turn swiftly on her heels. 

In the lowlight of the lamp posts outside that casted into the bus, she looked mythological. Her white sundress shimmered and the waves of her teal hair cascaded down her back. The last few days I’ve spent any alone time I could find locked in the bathroom with my hand wrapped around my cock, the image of her on top of me playing like a loop in my brain. 

My little fairy.

“Did you need something, Mathew?” She asked with a business-like edge to her voice. 

The vision of her in that light with her hands perched on her hips while she cocked one out, full of attitude, made my cock twitch and not bother to think of the repercussions, I pressed her up against the door of the bathroom. 

“What are you-?” 

I captured her lips in a kiss that was fueled by so much fervor, it made my head spin. It was only our second kiss but just like the first, our souls danced together in perfect harmony when the magnetic pull between us vibrated. Faye’s body went stiff in my embrace but soon with a rush of air, her hands sneaked up underneath my shirt to scratch at the skin of my back undoubtedly leaving half crescent shaped moons as she dug into me. 

Her lips were soft, almost silken, and pillowy against my own. I could feel the velvet tickle of her breath beneath my nose when my fingers threaded through those vibrant strands of hair. 

An unfamiliar feeling blossomed in my chest, taking over every part of me, as my tongue left kitten kisses along her bottom lip. She began to pull away from me slightly only for me to yank her back in by my teeth. I wanted to plummet in everything that was Faye, letting her consume all of me every day. I could feel the thunderous beats of our hearts together as I pressed her harder against the door, my cock brushing ever so softly against her clit. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of my shorts, doing whatever she could to pull me closer. It was a mess of a kiss, both of us dry humping against each other to grasp that euphoric high we were craving. 

Her palm pressed lightly over my cock causing me to yank on her hair, exposing more of her neck to me. My teeth grazed over the sensitive skin behind her ear and she shivered in my grip when my calloused hands lifted up the bottom of her dress, letting the material bunch up against her stomach. 

“My fairy,” I proclaimed into the crook of her neck, a single finger slipping underneath underneath the cotton fabric of her panties.  

Almost like magic, there was a wide space between us as she pushed me away, those perky breasts rising and falling as she caught her breath. Her lips were swollen, bruised from the force of our kiss, and I groaned at the sight of a faint red mark on her neck. One that I left. 

“This can’t happen!” Faye yelled while adjusting the bottom of her dress. “You’ve made it clear that you’re my boss and this-.”

She pointed between us. “Is unprofessional.”

“Fuck that,” I spat. “I don’t care about that anymore.” 

Faye wiped away the spit from her lips and sneered her distaste. “Why? Because you saw me talking with Greg and wanted to stake your claim on something that’s not yours?”

The words spewed from my mouth like vomit.

“Well, it seemed clear to me that you like it when anyone shows you attention. Does it give you a sick thrill? Turn you on?”

Faye blinked slowly while her lips parted. “Excuse me?”

“You were going to go out with that guy!” I threw a hand over my shoulder back towards the venue. “I bet you do get some sort of sick thrill from it. You string me along, fucking with my feelings, and now that I turned you down, you’re doing the same thing to other guys? You’re just like the rest of them, I don’t know why I thought you were different.”

Something glistened in her eyes and the breath she let out sounded so broken. But I was enraged with everything that’s happened the last week, all I saw was red. 

“That’s not fair. You don’t know anything,” she shook her head. 

“I don’t need to, Faye. I’ve seen enough and I’m glad I got out from under you when I did,” I roughly brushed past her, nearly turning back when I heard a broken sob fall from her lips.

Keep going. Don’t falter. That’s what she wants. 

Thunderous footsteps echoed behind me, slapping against the pavement as we stepped outside. Faye’s bright eyes filled with her own rage stared up at me as she stepped in front of me. 

“You think you’re so fucking smart? Greg is dating a friend of mine from back home. We were talking about meeting up all together,” she poked a finger in my chest. 

Yet I couldn’t apologize because she shoved another finger in my chest. “You’re an asshole! You think you’re mature because you’re older than me? You’re a manchild who can’t accept someone who cares for you. You’re one of the most self deprecated people I’ve ever met and this act you’ve got going isn’t working.”

Another poke to my chest and this one caused me to stumble slightly.

“You don’t get to push me away, call me unprofessional for something we both did, but then try to crawl your way back to me after what you did! Your jealousy broke something that I cannot replace. I’ll never forgive you for that.” 

I grasped her wrist when she went to poke my chest again and held it flush against me. “I’m sorry.”

Her face flinched, not expecting my apology, yet she continued on with her wrath. 

“Sorry doesn’t fix things! We have four days left of this tour, let's just ignore each other like we have been and we can finally forget everything that happened the second we part ways,” Faye ripped her hand from mine and stomped back towards the bus. 

I stood there in the middle of the alley behind the venue, trying to gather my bearings from our argument. Like everything with Faye, our shared moments together were a whirlwind and I never knew what to focus on first. 

The way her body molded into mine when we kissed. 

How pretty her moans sounded when I pressed my cock against her. 

How wet she was when I brushed my finger along her folds. 

How kissed fucked she looked after breaking us apart.

Or the way her fury vibrated off of her when she poked those pretty nails into my chest. 

Once again, I let the negativity of what could possibly be something so good for me ruin it before it had the chance to begin. Faye was all encompassing, she was what my soul had been missing since creation. It scoured the earth for hers and now that it was in my grasp, I refused to let her go.

NOAH

I’d been leaning against the old brick of the venue, getting ready to facetime Y/N when heated voices made me pocket my phone in time to see Faye storm after Matt, poking her finger in his chest. When Matt dragged his feet back to the bus in clear defeat, I knew that I needed to do something to fix whatever was broken between them.

“Mochi!” Y/N’s bright smile greeted me when she answered my facetime call. “I miss you.” 

“I miss you too, angel,” I slowly paced the alley. 

“What’s going on? Why are you outside?” She asked while cuddling her couch pillow closer to her chest. 

I could see the luminescence of the television casting a glow of colors against the wall behind her. She’d been watching a movie when I called, the words echoing through my phone. 

"People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead."

“Are you watching The Crow again?” I teased with a playful smile. 

Y/N rolled her eyes before telling Jesse to pause the movie which made my brows pull together. “Wait, are you at my house?” 

“Yeah. Jesse texted me earlier asking if I could come hang out. I guess Maxxine stood him up. Again,” she sighed. 

“I never liked her,” I grumbled with agitation. 

“She was my friend! How do you think I feel?” But then Y/N shifted on the couch. “Do you care that I’m here without you?” 

“Not at all, angel. You know you’re always welcome there even if I’m not. I’m glad you’re there for Jesse.” 

Just then a head full of curls appeared on the screen. “She’s making me watch this movie. I had no choice in the matter.”

“It’s a great fucking movie,” she ruffled his curls before playfully pushing him away. “Why the sour face, Mochi?” 

Sighing I sat on the bench in front of the venue now, gazing up at the stars. It was nearing midnight and thankfully all the fans from tonight's show had left, leaving me out here alone with my thoughts. 

“It’s Matt and Faye. They’re still fighting and all I want to do is help them,” I ran a hand over my tired face. 

Something Y/N noticed. 

“Noah,” her voice was as soft as her skin. “I know you love your friends and want to help them but sometimes, they need to be the ones to do it.”

I shrugged while playing with the string of my joggers with my free hand. “Maybe I can do something that pushes them in the right direction. Force them in a locked closet at the next venue to talk it out.”

Y/N snorted her laughter. “That never works. But I know what will work.”

With a pulled brow, I listened intently to her plan as she told me what I needed to do. 

“You’re sure this will work?” I asked while slowly walking towards the bus, exhaustion digging its claws into me. 

“Everyone loves a good “there was only one bed” trope. It’ll work,” she assured me with that smile I missed so much. 

“I can’t believe I’ll see you in two days, angel,” I said with a bit more excitement in my voice than before. 

Y/N cuddled the pillow closer to her chest. “I’m counting down the hours, mochi.”

FAYE

After leaving Noah in the hotel lobby while he waited for Y/N to arrive, I spun the keycard to my room between my fingers, ready for a full night's sleep in an actual bed. We arrived at the final stop on the tour and with tomorrow night being the last show, we were staying in a hotel for the next couple of nights. 

72 hours. 

That’s how long it had been since Matt and I spoken to each other. Since our blow up argument a few nights ago, I had chosen to sleep on the couch in the back room of the bus, not wanting to be anywhere near him. Even though my heart was hurting with the space between us. Ultimately I knew I needed this space from him because in two nights, I’d be flying back home alone and forgetting everything that happened. 

Well, trying to anyway.

With an yawn, I slipped the keycard into the slot of the door, the light flashing green. I took all of two steps inside before coming to a sudden halt at the sight before me. Two suitcases opened and scattered throughout and a long body stretched out wide on the bed in the room. 

The only bed in the room. 

Matt removed the pillow from his face to see me standing in the doorway, clutching the handle of my suitcase with white knuckles and he rolled his eyes. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he grumbled while sitting up in bed. 

“What are you doing in my room?” I demanded. 

Matt scoffed. “Your room? I’ve been here for the last hour. You’re the one in my room.”

Neither of us broke eye contact, not wanting to lose, and I motioned to the keycard on the table next to him. 

“Who gave you your card?” 

“Noah,” he answered. 

Son of a bitch. 

“He set this up,” I muttered before turning on my heels, ready to march back down to the lobby to ask for another room when Matt’s voice made me freeze. 

“The hotel is booked. There’s no other rooms available.”

I threw my head back with an audible groan before slamming the door shut and forcing my suitcase into the closet of the room. I would have been fine with this rooming situation if there had been a couch but besides the bed, the only other place to sleep was an old, worn out chair in the corner of the room. 

It was almost nine in the evening and after the long day of travel, the only thing I wanted to do was shower and go to sleep. Noah mentioned plans about possibly going out for some food but the moment I saw Matt lounging on my bed, I wanted to take the pillow and suffocate him; mingling with others be damned. 

I didn’t even make it more than a single step towards the bathroom before my head snapped over to Matt when he spoke again. 

“I took all the hot water. Might want to wait a bit.”

It was then that I noticed he was shirtless in bed, wet strands of hair clinging to his chest; clearly fresh out of the shower. His shorts hung low on his hips and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the light colored happy trail underneath his belly button. This was the first time I’d seen him shirtless and I felt all the heat rush to between my legs. 

Focus!

“I’m sure you can bunk with Bryan or Nicholas. Although, they talk a lot and I know how much that irritates you,” Matt winked while propping an arm behind his head. 

“I fucking hate you,” I seethed before stomping over to the bed and ripping the part of the covers he wasn’t laying on back so I could slide into bed. 

Matt continued to wear that smug smile which made me glare at him. “What the fuck are you so smug about? Happy that I’m miserable and stuck in this room with you?”

“You’re so upset that you didn’t even realize you got into bed still wearing your shoes and jeans.” 

Grumbling every name under the sun at him, I scrambled out of bed to kick off my shoes and nearly ripped the skinny jeans away from my legs, leaving it a pile on the floor. I now stood in front of Matt in nothing but an oversized band tee that I hadn’t been wearing a bra under. It’s what I usually go to sleep in anyway. It reached about mid thigh now that my jeans were off. 

“Is this better, Matthew?” 

Those dark eyes trailed up my long legs, lingering on the swell of my ass before he nodded. 

“I’d be fine if you came to bed with nothing,” he shrugged. 

I squealed before wrenching a pillow off the bed and smacking him in the head with it. 

Not one. 

Not two times. 

But four times. 

Matt finally realized he’d been under attack so his arms reached out to wrap around my hips, dragging me to the bed with him. It was a fight for who would end up on top as I tried to continue with my onslaught of pillow attacks but his strength won in the end. Throwing the pillow across the room, he managed to pin me to the bed with his hips and used one large hand to pin both of mine above my head. 

His hair was a mess covering his face as those dark eyes stared daggers into me but I raised my chin up at him in defiance. 

“Are you finished with your tantrum?” His chest rumbled. 

“Fuck off!” I shot back while wiggling underneath him. 

My shirt had ridden up in our fight, resting just below my breasts and my bright yellow thong was on full display for Matt to drink in. But his eyes continued to rest on my face. 

More so, my lips. 

My pussy kept pressing against his clear erection causing him to bite back a moan and tighten his grip on my hands. 

“Stop it,” he bit out through gritted teeth. 

I didn’t. 

In fact, I pressed myself up closer to him, rubbing my clit against his cock. “Stop what? This? I thought you wanted this?” 

The teasing tone of my voice was thick which only angered Matt even more. 

“You look pathetic, trying so hard not to-.” 

My words were cut off by his mouth devouring mine in such a heated kiss, it nearly rendered me useless. I lay under him, motionless for a moment, as his mouth moved against mine. The feeling of his tongue against mine made me moan into his mouth, trying to get more of him; desperate for it. 

“YOU’RE INSUFFERABLE!” I kneed him in the gut once I realized what was going on and he fell to the other side of the bed, clutching his side. 

“REALLY? LAST TIME I CHECKED, YOU LOVED IT WHEN MY LIPS WERE ON YOURS!” He shot back before reaching for me again, crashing our lips together. 

This had been weeks worth of build up, the sexual tension between us a tight rubber band ready to snap with any added extra weight. My brain kept screaming at me to push him off and smack him for what he did to me, breaking my fathers camera. 

Yet my soul was thriving. It never felt more alive knowing that Matt was once again staking his claim with his lips, nipping and sucking at the sensitive parts of my body; down my neck and over my collar bone after he yanked down the collar of my shirt. 

Calloused fingers brushed along the thin elastic of my panties, teasing me with his silent question. 

“Take them off,” I demand against his lips, raising my hips off the bed. 

Our clothes gathered together in a heap on the floor and while I lay bare for Matt’s hungry eyes, he remained kneeling on the bed. His cock was red with agitation, desperate for not only some sort of contact but release as well. 

“You’re beautiful, Fairy,” Matt mused while kissing from my navel, up between the valley of my breasts, and left small indentations with his teeth against my neck. 

I left angry red marks down the length of his spine while spreading my legs for him. His fingers gathered my wetness between my folds, pressing small circles against my clit and I sucked in a breath. 

“Already so wet for me? I haven’t even touched you yet,” he chuckled darkly before nipping at my bottom lip. 

I was not about to give Matt the satisfaction in knowing our little play fighting and making out turned me on beyond measure. My body was already on the brink of collapse from our weeks of constant teasing and bickering. I reveled in the way Matt came off rude and brooding, sometimes to me, but also found myself loving how caring and thoughtful he’d been in the beginning.

A finger slipped inside of me and I arched myself off the bed, my breasts brushing against Matt’s chest. 

“You like that?” He cocked his head to the side. “Use your words, fairy. I need to hear what you want.” 

I sunk my nails into his arm, trying to bring him closer. “You, Matthew. Please. I just want you.”

Begging? Really? There goes your dignity.

I didn’t have time to chastise the voice in my mind because Matt let out a growl before rolling me to my stomach and hiking my ass up in the air. The sound of skin on skin echoed in the small hotel room and a breathy moan fell from my lips. 

Matt cursed before leaning over the bed to reach for his suitcase. 

“What are you doing?” I almost whined. 

“Condom,” he muttered while rifling through his bag. “Shit! Of course the one time I don’t pack fucking condoms.”

I saw his eyes flick up to the wall in front of me, most likely to the room next door, and knew he was contemplating asking whoever was rooming next to us for a condom. 

“I have an implant,” I finally said while looking over my shoulder. “And I’m clean.” 

Those eyes shimmered as they rested on my face. “So am I.”

With his cock gripped tight in his hand, Matt lined up at my entrance before slowly pushing himself inside. My head went to fall to the pillows but his hand gathered the teal strands in his palm, yanking my head up. 

“Oh, god,” I moaned when he was fully inside. 

I’d never felt so full before. 

My walls clenched around him, a silent beg for him to move, but Matt remained still. His chest constricted with the breath he’d been holding so I slowly started fucking myself on his cock. 

“Matthew,” I panted. “Please, I need you to move.” 

With one tight grip on my hair and the other on my hip, he let out a strangled breath finally. 

“I won’t last long, fairy. I don’t-.” 

You assured him with a gentle smile. “I won't either. I’m already so close.” 

Knowing that I wouldn’t last long either, Matt let go of the grip on my hair to slide over to my clit, pressing fast circles against the swollen bundle of nerves. His pace was ruthless, fucking in and out of me with such force, the headboard began slamming against the wall. 

I was dizzy with my arousal, it clouding my judgment because I knew that this was only going to be a quick fuck and then we’d go back to bickering. Not accepting what both of us wanted. We could try to ignore how we felt about one another but there was no way I could ignore how perfect he felt inside of me. It was as if we clicked together like a perfect puzzle piece. 

Cliche. But it was true. 

Matt’s broad chest pressed against my back so he could drag his teeth against my spine. “You feel so fucking good. Fuck.” 

All I could do was nod, too blissed out on the way his fingers danced against my clit. My orgasm was so close, teetering on the edge of the cliff, and my body stilled for a moment as I tried to grasp that release. 

“No!” 

I whined when Matt pulled all the way out of me only for him to throw me onto my back and wrap a leg around his back, slipping back inside of me. 

“I want to see your pretty face when you cum,” he grunted while thrusting inside of me. 

I dared a peak down to where I bodies connected as he pulled himself almost all the way out and choked on a moan when I saw his cock glisten in the low light of the room because of our shared arousal. 

“Look at me, Faye.”

My eyes snapped up to his, blown wide with his euphoria and with one final snap of his hips, I cried out my orgasm; eyes never leaving his. 

I writhed underneath him but his fingers never stopped their onslaught on my clit, working me through the violent aftershocks. Matt threw his head back in a silent scream as his cock throbbed inside of me seconds before spilling his release.

His body fell to the bed next to me in a gruff of exhaustion and I lay there for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling; tracing the patterns of the cracks instead of the realization that I should get up to clean myself so I can find someone else to bunk with. 

As I began to slip out from underneath Matt, he threw his tattooed leg over my hips, blocking me from leaving the bed. 

“Where are you going?” He asked, pulling my back to his chest. 

Our skin was sticky with sweat and I felt our cum between my legs but with his grip on me, it was clear Matt didn’t want me to leave. 

“I just thought-,” I pointed to the door. 

He buried his face in my neck, leaving a tender kiss. “I’m not letting you go, Faye. This was never a quick fuck for me. I think this was weeks worth of pent up sexual frustration that turned into something we both wanted; even if we weren’t ready to admit it.” 

I traced over the tattoos on his arm as it lay lazily over my stomach. 

“Sounds like you’ve got a great therapist,” I hummed. 

Matt snorted. “More like a philosopher of a friend.”

We lay together in a mess of tangled limbs for a long moment, basking in the silence. Matt’s breathing became slow and steady, indicating he was seconds away from falling into a deep slumber, one I was desperate to chase. But I couldn’t stop the nagging thought in my mind. 

“So what does this mean for us?” I forced myself to ask. 

“This is a really shitty way of asking you out considering I broke your camera. But what do you say we go out on an official date once we're back home and settled?”

I linked my fingers with Matt’s, bringing his hand to my lips to leave a tender kiss across his knuckles. “I’d love that.”

The tight grip that had been crushing my heart and soul since we started fighting suddenly evaporated into nothing. All I could feel was growing adoration for the man behind me. 

Deep sleep was seconds away from clutching both of us to drag us into the dark depths but before I could succumb, my tired voice called out into the vastness of the room. 

“You owe me a camera, by the way.” 

Matt chuckled while laying a kiss to the side of my head. “Already taken care of, fairy.”

FAYE

“So, how’re things going with Jesse and Tay?” I called over to Matt, who stood in the kitchen in front of his stove. 

“Good!” He called back. “Although, I’m sure you already knew that since she’s your friend.” 

I shrugged, knowing he was right, but then gave him a smile of thanks when he returned into the living room with my cup of tea. 

“We were talking about getting together for a double date this weekend,” I said. 

Matt pressed a chaste kiss to my lips before settling back into the couch next to me. “Whatever you want, fairy.”

We’d been home for a few weeks now from tour and found ourselves settling in pretty quickly to this new relationship. Our first official date was the aquarium with everyone else but I didn’t mind it. I got to know Hollow Souls more and working for them had been an absolute dream. 

I was able to photograph Chase and Malcolms wedding. With the exact make and model of camera that mirrored the one my dad gave me. While it wasn't the exact one, I knew Matt had scoured the internet for days trying to find one so I was extremely grateful for it. 

We’d spent the entire day on Matt’s couch cuddled together under a pile of blankets, more specifically his Greys Anatomy blanket, with all three of his dogs either laying on top of us or next to us. The television had been on a constant rerun of Grey's Anatomy, him finally talking me into watching it with him. My fingers played with the ends of his hair, him opting out on wearing a hat today. I’d been wearing nothing but one of his shirts and a pair of boyshort panites. It had been a pretty hot day in California so Matt decided on wearing just a pair of joggers. We would have been three episodes ahead in our marathon if we hadn’t continuously paused it for our extra activities.

“Oh, shit. I almost forgot. How is Y/N’s and Noah’s redo date going?” I set my empty cup down on the table in front of me. 

Matt snickered while reaching for his phone. “I haven’t heard anything yet. I’m starting to wonder if he backed out on asking-.” 

His voice trailed off as his eyes never left the bright screen of his phone. The words on the current text thread he had open drained all the color from his face. 

“Matthew,” I said tentatively, sitting up on the couch and running a hand over his back. “What is it?” 

He swallowed thickly before running a hand over his face and those broken eyes found mine. “Y/N’s dad died. Her and Noah are flying to Japan tomorrow night.”

[farfaras]

Part 1.

Maybe if Steve acts casual Robin won’t even notice. She barely pays attention to him when she’s too busy rambling about her love life. Or lack there of. If Steve’s lucky, today is gonna be one of those days.

But Steve’s good luck probably ended the first time he took a look at a demogorgon.

“What is that?” Robin giggled. If she finds this amusing wait until she hears what actually happened.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb. That only worked when I thought you were an actual idiot.” She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah well, I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” Steve put on his family video vest and clocked in.

“What? I notice things!” Robin exclaimed when Steve made his way to the counter.

“Yeah, when you’re not too busy daydreaming about Vickie.”

“You’re changing the subject!”

“Objection!”

“Stop it!”

Steve sighed. How could you explain your friend sucked your neck to make your another friend jealous when you don’t even like said friend? Tricky.

Ugh. Robin was gonna make fun of him.

“You wouldn’t believe me.” Steve tried. It was a last resort to save himself from the embarrassment.

“Yeah, because I’ve never experienced anything out of the ordinary.” She raised an eyebrow. Steve knew she wouldn’t let it go. “When did you even go on a date, dingus? I don’t remember you telling me about it.”

“I didn’t go on a date.”

“Well then who did that?” She narrowed her eyes. “Ew! Are you in a friends with benefits situation?” She look scandalized and curious at the same time. “Because honestly Steve, I don’t think that’s your thing. I mean even if you try, it wouldn’t work out. You’re like an actual romantic. Wanting a serious relationship, yearning connection and all that shit. It would be cute if you weren’t kinda desperate sometimes.” Okay he had to cut her off if he wanted to keep his ego unbruised.

“Jesus! Okay! You don’t have to say it like I’m some loser who can’t get a girlfriend!” If he needed humbling he knew who to call now though.

“But you kind of are.”

“Do you want to know or not?” Even if he was embarrassed about the whole thing, he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t hoping Robin would give him some insight. Once she stopped making fun of him. “It was Eddie.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and… excitement? “Holy shit! It finally happened?” What is she talking about now? “I thought I would actually have to wait another year at least for you guys to figure it out.” There’s nothing that makes Steve feel more inadequate than when he doesn’t get what people are talking about. “I mean anyone who’s got eyes could see how much you two liked each other and it’s cute but I was getting tired of the pining..” she trailed off when she saw how silent Steve was. “Why aren’t you as excited as me?”

Pining? Like each other? Did Robin think..? Did Eddie?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He questioned. His mind was going through every interaction him and Eddie once had. Trying to analyze his own behavior to come up with an explanation as to why someone would think he likes Eddie.

“Oh god. I thought. Did you guys not like… get together?” She was hesitant. It felt like she was trying not to scare a wild animal.

“No.”

“I gotta stop running my mouth like that. I’m sorry.” She looked mortified and it would be funny if this was another situation. “But what? Why would he do that? I’m so lost here, Steve.”

Steve went through backstory first, then he started retelling the events of the other day. Including how he actually enjoyed himself a little. He might as well be a hundred percent transparent, she was his best friend after all.

“Robin, say something.” His best friend being silent was not something he was used to.

“I’m so confused.” She said.

“Me too.” His confusion was starting to fade. The answer right in front of his face.

“So you’re… not together? Even after that?”

“I don’t even like him like that!”

“But you said you liked it!”

“Who wouldn’t!”

“I wouldn’t! Steve, a boy giving me hickeys is one of my worst nightmares.” He knew that. He knew it meant something that he liked it. The question is if he’s ready to face what it means.

“I- I know, okay?”

“Steve, say the word and we’ll stop talking about this.” He loves his best friend. He doesn’t know what he’d do without her.

“No. I think I’m ready.” Steve muttered. Robin smiled gently at him and that was all the encouragement he needed to feel safe enough to say it out loud.

“I like him.”

They hugged.

-

“It kinda sucks that he doesn’t like me back though.”

Robin thunked her head on the counter.

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 11)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 11 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

dinner with charles and the rest of your family comes with high expectations and heavy disappointments. one thing's for certain, lando's not going anywhere and neither are you

word count: 7.2k tags/warnings: implied smut, literally the worst translated french ever if someone wants to fix it by all means pls help me out, some sad tugs on the heart strings, i think thats it, also poorly edited

There were two sides to Lando Norris.

You already knew of the sweet and considerate side. The one that opened car doors for you, that took care of you even though you never asked to be cared for. This was the side of Lando that you fell hard for because he was all heart and cheeky grins and stupid eye rolls that had you blushing.

And then there was the side that you didn’t even know existed until you woke up to him leaving a trail of kisses down your body before slowly spreading your legs apart. The side that had you seeing stars and screaming his name before you could even register being awake. 

Lando was insatiable, to put it simply.

And you weren’t complaining.

How could you complain when he joined you in the shower and pressed his lips to your neck as he pinned you against the porcelain wall. Your cheek against the cold tile, the stream of hot water coming down from above, his cock so deep inside you that you relied on him to keep you upright. 

Yeah, you couldn’t complain.

Lando seemed to be on a mission to make you cum more times in twelve hours than you had in the last two years. He got so much pleasure from bringing you to the edge and watching as you spilled over.

You made sure to return the favour. Not even waiting until you were out of the bathroom before dropping down to your knees. Lando has one hand on the edge of the sink, the other hand tangled through your hair. Strings of expletives meshed so well with his encouraging words, telling you how fucking pretty you looked choking on his cock. 

And honestly, that first shower was a write-off. You eventually needed to push Lando out of the bathroom to give you the chance to actually get ready for the day.

It was hard for the two of you to keep your hands off each other and to be fair, you didn’t really try. Sure, you put on a show, but ten minutes in and you were by far more entertaining than whatever rom-com you had chosen.

The day got away from you, to say the least.

It wasn’t until Lando asked you what you wanted for dinner did you suddenly bolt upright on the couch, reaching for your phone to check the time.

Lando, who had his hand on the handle of the fridge, slowly backed away from it as he tried to gauge what was going through your head, “Okay, or we could order something?”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” you stood up as you rushed to answer Arthurs text. He was already at your maman’s place and you couldn’t multitask to save your life so you didn’t even try to explain yourself to Lando until you sent Pascale a text saying that you had accidentally fallen asleep and are headed there now. It was a lie, but it was better than the alternative which would undoubtedly give her a heart attack.

“What’s up?” Lando asked, heading back towards you, eyeing your phone. 

You dragged your fingers through your hair, “I forgot I promised to go to my maman’s house for dinner.” You turned and headed down the hall, “I need to change..can you- I don’t have any clothes here do I?”

Lando followed you, picking up the mini skirt you abandoned last night and the top that could have quite literally doubled as a bra. All day you had been lounging around in Lando’s clothes, having completely forgotten about your dinner plans.

“Just you and your mum?” Lando asked, he stepped into his closet but there was no way he had anything that was appropriate for dinner.

“Um, and Arthur and Enzo,” you added quietly, finding a brush on top of his dresser and running it through your hair. You kept Charles’ name out of your mouth, not feeling up to bringing him into the conversation.

Lando stepped back into his room, eyebrows raised at your frantic actions, “Did you want me to drive you? We can stop at your place on the way so you can change.”

You didn’t just want him to drive you, you wanted him to join you. But to throw this on him so last second wasn’t fair. 

You accepted the ride to dinner, but you kept the invite to yourself. 

Lando waited in the car as you ran in and changed, making yourself more presentable. It took under five minutes to put something appropriate on and get rid of any signs that you and Lando had been nothing but tangled limbs and heated kisses and desperate moans for the last 12 hours. 

You were thankful that Lando was careful. Any marks that bruised your skin overnight weren’t visible to anyone other than you two. Some were darker than others, but you didn’t let yourself think of Lando’s lips exploring every inch of you, not while he was currently idling outside and waiting for your return.

When you slid back into the passenger seat, Lando waited before putting the car into drive. He nodded his head towards the phone that rested on the dash, your phone, that you had left while you ran inside. 

Not only that, but you left it unlocked.

You had nothing to hide, but that wasn’t the issue. The issue was Arthur had texted you twice since you stepped out of the car.

Charles is here btw, seems to be in a fine mood Are you bringing Lando?

When you looked up at Lando, he just had a smug little smile on his face. He wasn’t mad that you hadn’t invited him to dinner, nor was he upset that Charles was there after you purposely avoided saying his name.

“You told your brother about me?” Lando asked, finding the whole thing endearing. It was one thing if the drivers knew you were together, telling your family was entirely different.

“To an extent,” you shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “He knows we’ve been hanging out. I think a lot of people do.”

“Hanging out,” Lando repeated, mocking the naive term. 

“Well maybe if you asked me out I could tell him you’re my boyfriend.”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so picky about me planning a grand gesture,” Lando flipped the sarcasm on you and you playfully pressed your hand to his cheek, pushing his face away from yours. 

“I deserve a grand gesture,” you told him.

Lando nodded in agreement, “But nothing embarrassing?”

“Nothing embarrassing.”

“Anything for the Littlest Leclerc.”

You positioned yourself on the seat so your upper half was practically leaning over the centre console. Lando’s smile had yet to vanish as his gaze darted to every inch of your face, landing on your lips before he glanced up to meet your eyes. 

Out of nowhere, you felt giddy. You felt the excitement of butterflies in your stomach. You looked at Lando and suddenly you wanted him to come to dinner. You wanted your mother to see him as someone other than a driver. You wanted him to get to know your other brothers. You wanted to introduce him to the part of your life that no one had ever seen before.

“Come with me,” your quiet request echoed through the car. “To dinner.”

Lando’s eyebrows raised in response. He wasn’t against the idea, but he wasn’t tripping over his words to agree either. 

“Are you sure?” He asked. “You don’t think it’s too soon to meet your family?”

“Well you’ve already met my mother,” you pointed out, thinking of the few times they had interacted during race weekends.

Lando rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before smiling. Your nose nudged against his and again, those butterflies returned.

“I want you there,” you said.

“Then I want to be there.”

Two sides to Lando. 

And this was the side you were falling incredibly hard for. The side that made you want to show him off to everyone you knew. The side that made you forget why you were nervous to see Charles in the first place.

Lando kissed you once more before he pulled his eyes to the road. You sat back in your seat and your hand stayed connected with his for the remainder of the drive.

——————

You opened the door to your maman’s place, reaching for Lando’s hand as you stepped inside. There was no one in the general area, but you could hear voices flooding in through the balcony. With it being such a beautiful day, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see that everyone was already outside.

Lando was looking around, undoubtedly feeling very out of his element as he stood in the childhood home of another driver. His eyes landed on some old photos and his usual bubbly personality was replaced with solemn and an expression so tense that it had you feeling uneasy in your mother’s own home.

“Hey,” you whispered, squeezing his hand as you stepped closer to him and the wall that held a variety of memories in frames. Lando nodded, acknowledging that he heard you, but his eyes were locked on a specific photo. 

It was Charles in a kart, probably about ten years old at the time. Next to him knelt Jules, the biggest smile on his face. 

Lando pointed at the young girl balancing on Jules’ knee, a bright red toy car between her fingers. His gaze then turned to you, eyebrows raised. 

“I was about five years old, I think,” you said, trying to think back to when exactly that picture was taken. You leaned your head against Lando’s arm as images of your childhood rushed back to you. Some were pure memories that belonged to, others were flashes of stories you had heard that your mind had tricked you into thinking you remembered. 

But this day, you remembered. 

“I wanted to race too,” a breath of laughter followed that admittance. “Or at least I thought I did. Jules would have never actually let me drive that thing, I was too young, but he put me in and I remember getting so scared. I kept thinking it would start and just take off and it was instant tears for me.”

Lando nudged your side, “Your dreams of being a driver were short lived.”

“Very much so,” you laughed. You tapped your finger against the mini you behind the glass. “Jules gave me a toy Ferrari to keep me distracted and it worked for the most part. But when Charles got in the kart I got scared for him. Jules had to hold me the entire time he was going around the track, assuring me that Charles was safe, that he-”

Lando noticed the way your voice caught in your throat. He slipped his hand out of yours to drape his arm around your shoulders instead, pulling you into his side so he could kiss your forehead.

You told yourself you were fine. You were fine, this was a happy memory, it was a good day. It was just one you hadn’t thought about in a while.

Lando didn’t want you to sit in your thoughts. He propped his finger under your chin, tilting your face up, “Do you think a toy Ferrari would still work to distract you?”

The corner of your lips curled upwards and you rolled your eyes at his attempt at bringing some humour into this conversation.

“No, but maybe a real Ferrari would.”

“Yeah I’m not buying you a Ferrari,” Lando scoffed, turning you both around and away from the photo wall. You glanced at it over your shoulder once more, but when the sliding door to the balcony opened, the pictures were yet again just a memory. 

You stepped out of Lando’s embrace when Pascale looked up and saw you. A grin spread across her cheeks and she was quick to put down the bottle of wine in her hands. You practically hopped across the kitchen floor to give her a hug, rocking side to side in her tight embrace.

“Bonjour, maman,” you sighed happily. It had been a few weeks since you had actually spent time with her. When you pulled back she started asking you about the wedding you attended, about London, about what you’ve been up to, but of course she was speaking in French. Lando, who stood quietly behind you, had absolutely no idea what was being said.

“Attends, maman,” Wait mom. You said, cutting her off before this conversation could go further. You glanced at Lando and ushered him over with just a head nod. “C’est Lando.” This is Lando.

Pascale looked at you like you were missing a few brain cells and honestly, you sort of felt like you were. Obviously she knew who Lando was. The question was what was he doing in her home. 

“Chérie, je sais qui c'est.” Sweetheart, I know who he is. 

Your maman knew Lando as a driver. Someone from a rival team, someone that Charles competed against. She probably didn’t think much of it that he was there, it wasn’t uncommon for Charles to invite another driver or two to a get-together. 

But when you reached for Lando’s hand and pulled him closer to you, Pascale’s eyes lit up. There was a faint gasp of surprise, but it was her heartwarming smile of approval that lifted the weight off your shoulders.

You had never brought someone home before, someone that you wanted to introduce to your family. And even though Lando didn’t need any introduction, it was clear that he wasn’t just a driver. Your fingers intertwined with his and your cheeks turned a light shade of pink when Pascale pointed between the two of you. 

As your mother, she wanted nothing but happiness for you. She didn’t care that Lando was a Formula 1 driver, all she saw was you clinging to a guy, something that she’s never seen before. There was an obvious connection, one that you hadn’t let yourself have before and Pascale could see that.

“I hope it’s okay that I invited him,” your voice was timid as you glanced towards the patio doors. All of your brothers were out there, none of them had noticed you yet.

“Of course!” she cheered, reaching forward to squeeze Lando’s arm lovingly. “Vous ne parlez pas le Français?”

“No,” you answered for him, feeling Lando tense up beside you as he tried to figure out what he was just asked. “No, he doesn’t speak French.”

“Oh that is not a problem,” Pascale brushed the language aside. She wanted to make Lando feel comfortable in her home, which was just another breath of fresh air for you. At least your maman was supportive, she would be inclusive towards Lando tonight.

Your brothers were another story.

The patio door slid open again and this time it was Enzo and Arthur who walked in. They greeted you from across the room, both in French, but their ‘bonjours’ and ‘ca va’s’ were cut off when they recognised Lando.

“C'est nouveau,” This is new. Enzo teased, his finger darting back and forth between you and Lando as he poured himself a glass of wine. 

Arthur glanced out to the patio where Charles remained, “Tu ne lui a pas dit a propos de Lando, pas vrai?” You didn’t tell him about Lando, did you?

Poor Lando, just staring at you waiting for a translation or for you to answer on his behalf. He genuinely couldn’t tell what your brothers were saying, but he hoped it wasn’t anything negative.

“English, boys,” Pascale clapped her hands together as she moved to stand between Arthur and Enzo. She wrapped her arms around both of them, squeezing gently as she smiled back at you and Lando. Both sons had quite a few inches on her but they let her pull them into her sides without any sort of fight. “Lando does not speak French. We will be good hosts, yes?”

“C’est lui qui vit à Monaco,” He’s the one who lives in Monaco. Enzo snorted, earning a smack upside the head from your maman. He held his hand up in defence, palm facing Lando, “Sorry, mate.”

“All good,” Lando chuckled, shaking his head. He didn’t want to put anyone out of place, but Pascale was notorious for making sure her guests were comfortable and respected. If that meant she had to learn another language, she probably would without question. 

“Lando, wine?” She offered, grabbing an empty glass from the cupboard. 

“Oh he’s not a wine drinker and-” you spoke up, inhaling a sharp breath through your teeth. You glanced up at Lando, “-and I don’t know why I’m speaking for you. You have a voice.”

Lando gave your hand a squeeze, but he didn’t seem offended that you answered on his behalf. If anything, he was a little surprised that you remembered that little detail about him. 

“Help yourself to anything in the fridge,” Pascale told him, still pouring a glass for you knowing that you sure as hell wouldn’t turn down wine. She had just stepped around the kitchen island to hand it to you when the patio door opened for the third time.

Charles didn’t even look at you. His eyes immediately went to Lando.

Lando waved awkwardly, “Hey, Charles.”

Completely disregarding him, he turned to Pascale, “Ce devait être un dîner de famille." It was supposed to be a family dinner.

Lando leaned towards you and whispered, “What did he say?”

You shook your head, he didn’t need to know that Charles was already choosing to let this evening turn sour. “Tu peux être poli au moins.” You can at least be polite. You told Charles, only to be met with an eye roll in response.

“So the eye rolls run in the family?” Lando asked. 

“Can you just-” you turned to him suddenly, but stopped yourself from being unintentionally rude. Lando was just trying to make a joke, that’s what he did in any given situation. It wasn’t his fault that Charles’ bad attitude was now affecting how you were acting. You placed your hand on his chest, playing with the string of his jumper, “Let’s go outside, yeah?”

Charles turned around as well but Pascale was quick to jab her finger against her son's chest before he could go anywhere, “Behave, Charles.”

It was a warning that held very little merit. Charles would mutter something under his breath in French about how Lando wasn’t actually invited as the group of you all made your way outside. Pascale stayed inside to finish up dinner and you offered to help but one look from her and you both knew you’d be needed outside with the men boys. 

The patio was large. The outdoor couch shaped like an ‘L’ was spacious enough to fit all five of you comfortably. But Charles still opted for one of the chairs, resting his leg over the other as he leaned back and watched as Lando made himself comfortable on the patio furniture, or at least tried to. 

The second that Lando put his hand on your thigh, Charles’ eyebrows twitched and Lando retracted his hand, leaving it in his own lap. 

This was awkward for everyone. 

Well, maybe not so much Arthur and Enzo whose heads were moving back and forth between you like they were watching a tennis match, just waiting to see what sort of moves any of you would make. 

You hadn't spoken to Charles since you left Silverstone. You weren’t there for him when he DNF’d near the end of the race. You weren’t there to tell him that he still had plenty of chances left this season to do work his way up the standings. 

Now was as good a time as any to bring it up, clear the air. 

“I’m sorry about your retirement last weekend,” you said, feeling unusually timid. Charles wasn’t someone who you often felt small around. You looked up to him, sure, but you never felt the need to be careful around him, until now. 

Charles sighed loudly, “Is this you taking responsibility for it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hmm,” Charles scratched the stubble that grew along his jaw. “You don’t think everything you told me minutes before I had to get in the car affected my race at all?”

Nevermind, you weren’t shy to speak what was on your mind. You were annoyed.

“You don’t think leaving your personal life outside the track is something you should probably do?” You retorted, with even more sarcasm than his tone carried. “I mean, you’ve done it before. Weren’t you the one who broke up with Cha literally days before a race weekend and still went on to get a podium?”

“That was different.”

“You’re right,” you scoffed, leaning back against the cushions as you crossed your arms over your chest. “You brought my life onto the track with you in Silverstone. I never asked you to do that.”

To your right, Arthur nudged your side, “Take it easy, Y/N.”

Charles moved on from the topic of the race as his glare narrowed in on Lando. “Vous êtes ensemble, c'est ça?” So, you two are dating?

Lando looked at you, hoping you would, again, either translate or answer for him. 

“You know he doesn’t speak French.”

“Toute la famille parle Français,” This whole family speaks french. Charles leaned forward, “You’re just going to show up at my mother’s house and demand everyone speak English for your convenience?”

Lando rapidly shook his head, “That didn’t-”

You promptly cut him off, “Don’t be an ass for the sake of just being an ass, Charles.”

“Mate I don’t want to cause any trouble,” Lando chimed in. His hand went to your leg again and even when Charles eyed the point of contact with disapproval, Lando didn’t move it. “I just like hanging out with your sister. And for some reason she likes hanging out with me too.”

There was that term again. Hanging out. But this time when he said it, you knew Lando was only trying to downplay everything for Charles’ sake. Charles didn’t need to know any of the details of your relationship, he just needed to get it through his head that you were together.

The patio door opened and Pascale came out, holding the glass of wine you had forgotten to grab. You thanked her kindly and without exchanging a word, the mother-daughter bond you shared spoke volumes when you sent a glance across the patio towards Charles.

Pascale tsk’d, shaking her head at the Formula 1 driver, “I said behave, Charles.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Charles retorted. “He’s the one that shows up invited.”

“I invited him,” you snapped. 

Enzo leaned forward, directing his attention to Lando to try and steer this conversation elsewhere. He started asking the Brit about his family and Arthur gave you an encouraging nod. Maybe tonight just started off wrong, it had potential to get better.

But of course those were high expectations.

Dinner was horrible.

The glares sent across the table towards you and Lando were impossible to ignore. Charles purposely spoke French and even though Pascale reminded him four times that Lando didn’t understand, Charles only responded that it wasn't his problem.

He was being uncharacteristically rude, and Charles’ reputation was that he was one of the nicest drivers on the grid. That was a reputation you agreed with, up until now. 

He was trying to make Lando uncomfortable, trying to find any reason to exclude him, ensuring that Lando knew he didn’t approve of your relationship.

You tried to ignore it, really. You were there to talk to your maman, to catch up with Enzo, to introduce Lando to everyone else in the family.

But eventually you just grew tired of biting your tongue for the sake of keeping the peace.

“You’re insufferable, do you realise that?” You finally blurted out. Arthur and Enzo stifled their laughter and next to you, Lando dropped his hand to your leg. He had been respectful all dinner, keeping his hands on the table where everyone could see, but he knew that you needed the support in the form of a comforting squeeze.

“Big words for the person who pays for all of your trips. There's nothing insufferable about the private jets from Monaco to Spain to London, are there?" Charles barely looked up from his food, shoving his fork into his mouth and letting his words sink in.

“Oh you’ve been waiting to use that line haven’t you?”

Charles ignored you, glancing towards Lando, “You’ve got her trips covered now, yeah?”

“Charles,” Pascale warned. She had stayed quiet for the most part, not wanting to get involved, trying to believe that it was just siblings being siblings. 

But it was so much more than that.

“I don’t know why you think I’m so reliant on you, but I can assure you, I’m not,” you shot back, not giving Lando a chance to share his two cents. “But if I was really struggling, there’s about six other drivers on the grid I can call up to help me out. We all know they love my presence in the paddock more than yours.”

Again, Charles chose to ignore you. His stare remained on Lando, “You’re really going to let her talk about the other drivers right in front of you?”

You slammed your hand on the table, demanding that he give you his attention for once. Charles didn’t flinch, but everyone else did. Charles just leaned back in his chair, arrogance painted his face. 

“Pourquoi ça te dérange tant que je sois avec lui?” Why do you care so much that I’m with him?

“Pourquoi tu es avec lui? C'est ça la question.” Why are you with him? That’s the question.

You and Charles continued to raise your voices at each other across the table in French, saying anything and everything that came to mind, anything and everything that could hurt the other. Your brothers understood everything, your mother was waiting to see if she needed to intervene, and Lando had absolutely no idea what was happening, he didn’t speak French. 

But he understood some phrases.

“Va te faire enculer!” You practically screamed. Go fuck yourself. 

Lando was taken aback and he turned to you with wide eyes. You would have loved to excuse yourself from the table at this point, to take Lando and go back to his place, but your mother wasn’t about to let either of you get away with the bullshit that’s been happening all night.

Pascale snapped her fingers, calling for the attention of everyone in the room, but her gaze darted back and forth between you and Charles only. She pointed at you and then at him and then at the kitchen, “Dinner’s over. Both of you, you’re on clean up.”

It wasn’t uncommon in your youth for Pascale to split the household chores between the kids. She had four of them and like any typical mother, she taught her kids the importance of cleaning and pitching in around the house. 

But you didn’t even live there anymore. 

You would have volunteered to help regardless, but the fact that she was assigning you and Charles to dish duty now that you had finished eating was a telling sign that the two of you needed to work your shit out. 

Pascale pushed her chair away from the table and nodded towards the living room as her glare directed at her kids shifted to a warm gaze at Lando, “Come on, Lando, I’ve always wanted to show off baby pictures of Y/N. It’s a right of passage as her mother.”

“Maman, don’t, please,” you pleaded, but it was too late. Lando had practically jumped out of the chair and followed Pascale to the couch.

Arthur and Enzo stood up as well, they didn’t have any interest in reliving your childhood through the photo albums, but they also didn’t want to hang out in the kitchen and be uninvited witnesses to whatever you and Charles were undoubtedly going to argue about.

You stood up from your chair, collecting a few dishes from the table, “I wash, you dry.”

“You always wash.”

“Because everytime you wash you end up breaking plates in the sink and then it becomes a bigger mess for everyone.”

Charles had no comeback for that, he really couldn’t argue with facts. So reluctantly, he found himself standing elbow to elbow with you as you handed him the clean plates for him to dry and put away. 

Neither of you said a word.

Which was not Pascale’s intention. 

Hearing laughter behind you, you both glanced over your shoulders, catching each other's eyes momentarily before you stepped away from the sink to clear off some more dishes from the table. 

Your back was towards Charles when you looked up and saw Lando making his way towards you, a small wallet sized insert photo of you between his thumb and forefinger. You were maybe seven years old there, missing one of your front teeth just in time for picture day at school.

“This is adorable,” Lando told you, “Your mum said I can keep it.”

“You absolutely will not,” you rolled your eyes, stacking the glasses on top of each other. 

“You were such a cute kid,” Lando cooed, looking at the picture again. You already knew the question that was going to follow when he turned back towards you, “What happened?”

“Ha ha,” you mocked, flipping your middle finger up at him. 

Behind you, Charles cleared his throat. You turned and saw him standing with his back leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest with the empty drying rack behind him. 

“We can go after I finish cleaning,” you told Lando, sounding apologetic on behalf of how Charles had been treating him all night. 

Lando felt bad. He didn’t want you to rush out of there because Charles was making this uncomfortable for everyone. He liked getting to know Pascale and your brothers a bit better. Enzo and Arthur didn’t have a problem with Lando’s presence. 

It was just Charles.

“Why?” Lando asked, raising his voice slightly even though this was supposed to be more of a private conversation. He wanted Charles to hear. “I’ve got no plans tonight. We can stay as long as you want. Unless-” Lando looked over your shoulder towards Charles. “Do you want us to leave?”

“I want you to leave,” Charles mumbled and you all but slammed the glasses back on the dining room table as you turned around to face your asshole of a brother. 

“Okay, you know what?” you inhaled a heavy breath, hands clamming up in seconds as you suddenly felt very confined within the kitchen. “I have been nothing but supportive of you for your entire career. Is it possible, that for once, to just take a step back and be supportive of me?”

“Supportive of what?” Charles scoffed, gesturing towards Lando. “That you’re dating him? That’s not something I need to be supportive of. It’s not an achievement or a career, Y/N, you haven’t done anything! You slept with a driver, congratulations! Should I call up Pierre and Carlos and invite them over as well? Make it a whole affair?”

You weren’t sure when Lando stepped around the table to stand at your side but you’re thankful he did. He was there to put a loving hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb over your skin as Charles’ words hit you hard. It felt like someone was pressing all of their weight against your chest and you struggled to find your words as much as you fought to take a breath.

You could have screamed at him. You wanted to. 

Your brother couldn’t separate you, his sister, from you, his biggest fan. To him, those two things were supposed to coincide. 

And for so long, they did. 

But that wasn’t the case anymore.

“Okay,” you finally breathed out, voice trembling along with your hands. You were going to pretend like Charles’ words didn’t hurt you and you were going to remove yourself from this conversation before it could take any more difficult turns, before this got uglier. You looked up at Lando, “We’re leaving.”

This was when Pascale interjected again. She stood up from the couch, the painful look of disappointment plastered all over her features.

“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval, apologise to your sister.”

“All the middle names,” Arthur whispered, but unfortunately for him the room was deafeningly silent and everyone heard his little comment. He cowered back into the couch, hoping that if he just stared at Charles long enough, the attention would go back to him.

And it did. Charles shook his head, “I’m not apologising for anything.”

Charles was a lost cause. It was a battle you didn’t have the energy to fight any more tonight. 

You reached for your maman, squeezing her hand before going in for a hug. She apologised, of course she did. The last thing she wanted was to see her kids fight.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” You told her and she nodded before moving in to give Lando a hug as well. She told him he was always welcome there when Lando thanked her for the dinner and for showing him the photo albums.

Lando said goodbye to Arthur and Enzo and then reached for your hand, tugging you into his side as you walked out of the house. You waved at Pascale as you made your way towards the car and you could see her expression shift into a glare as she turned around to give Charles a stern talking to before the door fully shut.

Like usual, Lando reached for the passenger door to open it for you, but he stopped you before you could get in by pulling you into his chest.

“Hey,” he whispered, his other hand finding your cheek to tilt your face up to meet his. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

A deep exhale passed through your lips, “You are the last person who should be apologising.”

“Yeah, well, the person who should be apologising isn’t going to,” Lando scoffed. “But you still deserve to hear it.”

Lando kissed your forehead, and then the tip of your nose and when you tilted your chin up just a little more, he pressed a final kiss to your lips before stepping back to let you get into the car.

He slid into the drivers side and had just started to reach for his seatbelt before he let it retract above his shoulder. 

“I left my wallet inside, I’ll be right back,” Leando leaned over to give you a kiss on the cheek, opening up the car door again. 

“I can go in and get it,” you offered, not wanting to have to subject Lando to Charles again.

“I’ll be two seconds, it’s fine.” He assured you, not leaving any room for discussion. He made his way up the walkway and you watched from the confinement of his car as he rapped his knuckles against the door.

It was Pascale who answered, obviously. She didn’t seem surprised to see Lando, moreso thankful if anything. 

“Lando, I’m so sorry,” Pascale said to him again, reaching for his arm to give it a squeeze. Pascale was a very touchy person, Lando came to realise, and you were cautious when it came to physical attention. Lando wondered where your closed off tendencies came from. He also wondered when that shift came between you two when you started to lean into his touches and being the one to reach for his hand first.

“You really have nothing to apologise for,” Lando said, his typical grin making another reappearance. He wasn’t going to let Pascale take responsibility for her son’s actions. He also wasn’t going to let it get to him the way Charles intended. 

She invited him inside, asking if he left anything and he told you that he did. But once inside, Charles shook his head and glanced around, “I actually just wanted to get a few more words with Charles quickly.”

Pascale nodded knowingly and pointed towards the balcony. Arthur sent him a smile that could have either read good luck or be careful, but Lando didn’t let himself think too much of it as he crossed the floor and slid the patio door open.

Charles glanced up from his phone and rolled his eyes when he saw who had joined him.

Lando much preferred your eye rolls. They were usually playful and teasing. You were never actually annoyed with him. He didn’t see your eye rolls and think of all of the exit routes like he was doing now as he stepped outside. 

Choosing to sit in the chair as opposed to joining Charles on the couch, Lando leaned forward and clasped his hands together atop of knees. 

This was strange for both of them.

Lando and Charles were friends. They got along well most of the time. They respected each other as people, as drivers. It wasn’t until Lando became more involved with you did Charles start to see the British driver in a different light. 

“You know I would never hurt her, right?” Lando started off by getting right to the point. The line that was drawn between them was you and Lando needed them both to be on the same side of this line, not vying for what they thought was best in their own opinions. 

“She’s not thinking about the consequences, Lando,” Charles took him by surprise, not coming back with attitude or with a bitter rebuttal, but with a voice of reason. “She’s happy, sure, but have either of you thought about the media presence in the paddock? What people might say? How might this affect your performance and mine? Formula 1 is hard enough as it is, mate. Racing aside, there are so many external factors that neither of you are considering.”

Lando nodded, piecing together what Charles was getting at, but he wasn’t someone who was easily persuaded. It took Lando weeks to work his way into your life, he wasn’t about to throw any of it away because Charles was sending him an intimidating glare.

“Charles, she’s spent her whole life considering those things,” Lando spoke calmly.

You made it clear you didn’t want a fight and he had your back, not wanting to start an argument either.

“Her own life takes a backseat to support you, to be your biggest fan. She, for the most part, has stayed out of trouble, stayed out of the spotlight so you could shine, so there would be no tarnishing of the Leclerc name. She’s been there for you during the best and the worst of times. All she’s ever wanted was to see you succeed.” Lando shook his head, as he recalled one of your first conversations. “When I took her out in Montreal, she was the one that told me she doesn’t date drivers. That wasn’t a rule you had set for her, that was something she decided for herself. Her fears controlled her, she didn’t want to have to worry about you and someone else during a race-”

“What, so now she’s just going to worry about you?” Charles cut him off and Lando could sense that he was growing more agitated with each passing second. 

“No, you idiot,” Lando had to tell himself to keep a straight face. “She’s not letting her fears control her anymore. She’s choosing to believe that what happens in the real world doesn’t affect what happens on the track. She doesn’t want to worry about either of us. She wants to cheer both of us on, and you’re selfishly putting her in a position where she has to choose.”

Lando pressed his palms against his legs and stood up from the chair, essentially ending the conversation there before Charles could think of something else to add, another reason as to why they shouldn’t date that would inevitably go in one ear and out the other.

When Lando reached for the handle of the patio door, he paused before sliding it open, “I’m not trying to take her from you, or from her family. I just want her to be happy and you should want that for her too."

“I do,” Charles agreed, but his words didn’t match the tone, like he was fighting with himself. 

Lando wasn’t going to offer any suggestions as to how Charles could stop getting in the way. It wasn’t up to Lando to remind Charles what his place was in your life, that was for him to figure out on his own. Lando simply nodded at the Monegasque driver and walked back inside. 

Pascale walked him to the front door, apologising one last time for her son's words and actions throughout the night, but Lando assured her that he still had a great time. She invited him back, telling Lando that she was happy to see her daughter look so at peace for once. 

All while Lando was inside your mother’s home, you sat in his car, adjusting the air conditioning and the angle of the seat. You flipped the radio on, but at this time of night there were only remixes and horrible cookie-cutter pop songs that you just couldn’t stand. 

You just wanted to distract yourself because Lando was taking a while. He said two seconds but you watched the digital clock on the screen slowly change and it had been at least two minutes since he shut the front door behind him.

You turned the radio off and opened up the glove box, hoping for an instruction manual on how to connect your phone to the bluetooth, but there was nothing in there. So you flipped open the middle compartment next.

There was no manual, but there was a wallet. 

Of course you picked it up to confirm it was in fact Lando’s, but then that just left you with the question, why did he go back inside the house?

The light from the front foyer caught your eye and you glanced up to see your mother giving Lando a hug. Apparently he had made quite the impression on her tonight.

You dropped the wallet back inside the compartment and closed it right before Lando reached the car. He slid into the driver's seat and looked at you with his usual cheeky smile, the one that gave him those faint lines around his lips and caused his eyes to squint. 

“Find it?” You asked.

Lando hesitated before nodding, “Yeah, was stuck in the couch cushions. Must have fallen out of my pocket.”

And you knew he was lying, but you didn’t question any further. Lando reached across the console to connect his hand with yours as he started to take off in the direction of his flat, jumping into a conversation about your baby photos and how sweet Pascale was, choosing to purposely disregard Charles and his behaviour.

Whatever reason Lando had to go back inside, you didn’t care to ask about it. 

You trusted Lando. You knew Lando was someone who would take care of you, even if you didn’t ask for it. His motives, his words, his stupid plan to move up your driver ranking, all of it was pure at heart with nothing but good intentions. 

He just wanted to be with you and in return, he hoped you would want to be with him as well. 

And against all odds, you were going to make this work.

masterlist here (side note - part 12 (the next chapter) will be the final part)

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader @f1mockingjay @topguncultleader @lclrnelliluvs @moonxblossom @dr3lover @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @tsarinablogs @noescapricho-essentimiento @f1mockingjay @xqueenslytherinx if i missed someone im so sorry

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

could you do ethan x fem reader smut where they aren’t allowed to see each other due to their families feuding??

like real romeo and juliet kind of this where he climbs up into the window while she’s doing skincare or something. i can literally imagine them just talking about how much they missed each other (because they aren’t allowed to be together) then it ends up escalating into like dom ethan smut 😋😋

sorry if that’s confusing!!

Hi! I hope you like this!💕 I had the worst writers block for the last few days and I'm trying to get back into it haha

Check Yes, Juliet - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Your forbidden to see Ethan after some drama between your family and his, so he sneaks through your bedroom window to see you.

Contains: Fluff, a hint of angst, Dom!-ish Ethan(Nothing super rough), I used "good girl" in this because I feel like Ethan would totally say that. oral - m and f receiving, p in v, Unprotected sex(Pulling out though:) Jesus, If I missed anything, let me know 💕

A/N: Ya girl loves pop-punk, especially from the 2000's so that's where I got the title for this lmao.

You grew up with Ethan, quickly becoming best friends because your parents were so close to his…until they weren’t. They had this huge falling out after Richie’s killing spree in Woodsboro. When you were both told you couldn’t see each other, you rebelled, and it only made the two of you even closer. So close that it turned into a secret relationship.

During summer break before you were both getting ready to start college, it got so much harder to see Ethan. Your mom worked from home, and your dad saved up his PTO so he could take time off to spend time with you before you left for university. It was the same one Ethan was going to, and you felt a little relieved that you’d finally have the opportunity to be with him without worrying about what your parents thought. They probably wouldn’t even let you go if they found out he was going to the same school, especially after they forced you to block his number and all of his social media. Ethan found his way around it because he couldn’t just not talk to you.

You’d just gotten home from dinner with your parents, excusing yourself to get ready for bed. You were so tired after a long day with them, and you couldn’t wait to talk to Ethan. You had this app your parents had no idea that you used to message him. You let him know that you were home, and waited for him to respond as you took your makeup off.

When he messaged you back, your eyes widened, wondering if he was crazy when he said he was outside of your house. You walked over to your window and opened the curtain to see your boyfriend standing in your front yard, a sweet smile on his lips as you quietly opened the window.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you whisper-yelled, as he held his finger up to your mouth for you to be quiet. He walked over to the tree beside your window, easily climbing up it as he made his way to you. “Ethan, this is crazy,” you said, as he crawled inside, his feet hitting the floor harder than he expected them to. You soon heard someone running up the stairs. “Shit. Hide under my bed.”

“You okay, sweetheart?” your mom asked as she opened the door. She glanced at the opened window behind you, a curious look on her face as she turned her attention back to you.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just tripped over the pile of laundry I’ve been refusing to put away,” you lied, as she rolled her eyes.

“I told you to clean that up. Goodness, I thought someone broke in here when I saw the open window,” she said, doing a double take of the room.

“No, I tripped on the way to close it. I forgot to before we left earlier,” you said, as she nodded. “I need to get some sleep if we’re getting up early tomorrow.”

“Okay, don’t forget to set your alarm. Wake up as early as you need to. Your dad is sleeping with the sound machine, so we won’t hear it,” she said, as you innocently smiled at her. You could only imagine the ideas your boyfriend had running through his head as he listened to your mom. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you said, as she walked back out of the room, closing the door behind her.

You quietly walked over to the door and locked it as Ethan crawled out from under your bed.

“Hey, baby,” he said, walking up behind you and wrapping his hands around your waist. “I missed you so much.”

You turned in his arms to face him, “Ethan, have you lost your mind? If you get caught in here, we’re dead.”

“I thought you’d be happy to see me,” he said, pulling his hands off you. “I can’t believe this shit. We’re both eighteen and we’re still letting our parents control our lives.”

You sighed as you reached over to grab his hands and place them back on his hips before putting yours around his neck. “I am happy to see you, babe. I just don’t want our parents to not pay for school. That’s the only thing that’s kept us apart.”

“We could always run away together,” he said, before leaning down to kiss you. “I’d rather drown in student loan debt than keep doing this shit.”

“Just three more weeks. We’ll be a few hours from here with no parents to keep their eye on us,” you smiled, “Just think of all the dates, all the fun things we can do-“

“All the sex we can have,” he said, cutting you off as his hands started to rub against your hips. You started to blush as you thought about it. “We could do that right now…,” he suggested, gently squeezing you. “As hot as the nudes are that you send me, you have no idea how bad I’ve been craving the real thing.” He leaned down to start placing kisses on your neck, making you whimper. “I can’t wait to taste that sweet pussy.”

“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped out, as his hand started to rub your pussy over your pajama bottoms.

“I know you missed this, too. How many times have you fingered yourself and wished they were mine?” he questioned, sliding his hand inside your pajama shorts. “You’re so wet, baby.”

“My fingers aren’t as good as yours,” you whimpered, as he slid one of his fingers inside you. He angled his hand just right so he could hit that spot inside of you, your legs almost giving out when he pressed against it hard enough. “Can you use two?”

He started to laugh a little, “You can barely stand up with one. I don’t know if you can handle two.”

“We could go to my bed,” you suggested, as he shook his head.

“No, babe,” he said, pulling his hand out and backing you up against the door. He slid your pajama shorts and panties down at the same time before he dropped to his knees in front of you. “Put your leg on my shoulder,” he said, as your eyes grew wide.

“What if I hurt you? Or what if I fall? My mom will definitely come back up here if she hears anything else,” you said, your tone nervous as Ethan smiled up at you.

“You’ll still have one foot on the ground. And you can put as much weight on me as you need to. I just need your legs spread enough for me to eat you out, babe.”

“Fuck,” you whispered, before doing what he asked. He teased your clit with his tongue before he started to sloppily eat you out. “Baby, that feels so good.”

One of your hands tangled in his hair as he pleasured you, making him groan into your pussy.

He kept going until your legs started to shake, letting him know how close you were. He pulled his mouth away as you pouted in response.

“I’m going to get you off, baby. Hang on,” he said, gently sliding your leg off him so you could fully stand up. He stood up in front of you, sliding two of his fingers into your pussy. You grabbed his shirt, pulling his body closer to you yours as he fingered you.

“I’m so close,” you whimpered, his face inches from yours. “I’m so scared I’m going to be loud.”

“Shh, you won’t be,” he said, leaning in to kiss you. His mouth caught all your sounds as his fingers pressed harder on that spongy spot inside you.  His free hand went to your hip to hold you against the door as your walls started to flutter around his fingers. You were tugging on his shirt so hard you knew you’d stretch it as the feeling washed over you, your legs turning to jell-o as he got you through it.

He pulled his mouth away from yours after you stopped whimpering, your hazy eyes connecting to his dark ones. Your hand reached down to start palming him over his jeans, the feeling making him gasp.

“Let me return the favor,” you smirked, dropping to your knees in front of him. He watched you, his breathing getting heavier after you freed his hard cock from his boxers.

You lazily started to stroke him as you looked at him through your lashes, your bottom lip in between your teeth. You looked so innocent in front of him, but he knew you were far from that.

“Look at you, being such a good girl down on your knees for me,” he said, running his hand through your hair. You whimpered at his praise, your pussy starting to throb. You leaned forward, licking the underside of his cock before swirling your tongue over his tip. “You seriously give the best head.”

He meant what he was saying, but he also knew what his praising did to you. Some of his best orgasms have come from you just sucking his cock, especially when he praised you the whole way through it.

You started to take him further into your mouth, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked. “Yeah, baby, just like that,” Ethan said, his grip tightening on your hair once his tip was far enough back to make you gag. “You make me feel so good.”

It didn’t take long for tears to be streaming down your cheeks from all the gagging, his cock soaked in your saliva as he started to thrust into your mouth. You knew he was close, his groans getting whinier.

“Fuck, that perfect mouth is going to make me cum,” he said, “Where do you want it?”

You grabbed the back of his thighs to keep him close, letting him know that you wanted him to cum in your mouth. His thrusts started to get erratic as he groaned, releasing into your mouth. His hand in your hair was shaky as your mouth kept moving, the slight overstimulation feeling so good for him.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” he said after a few more seconds. When you pulled away, your chin was covered in your spit as you wiped it on the back of your hand. “Did you like that?”

“Mhm,” you said sweetly, nodding as you took your shirt off.

“This sweet, innocent shit you do during sex just does something to me,” he groaned, pulling his own shirt off.

“Oh yeah? What does it do to you?” you asked, as you laid down on your bed to wait for him.

“It makes me want to not take it easy on you, because I know you can take it,” he smirked, as your hands started to massage your breasts.

“What if I can’t take it?” you asked, your voice soft as he stared you down.

“Then I’ll make you take it,” he said, as he crawled on the bed beside you. “You know if you tell me to stop, I will, but I think you’ll just beg me to go faster or fuck you harder.”

“Fuck,” you sighed, as you felt his hand cup over your pussy. “Just don’t make me be too loud.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he said, as he started to crawl on top of you. Your legs instinctively spread for him as you waited for him to fuck you, but he just teased you. He dipped the tip of his cock inside you, then pulled it out to rub it against your clit. He kept doing it until you finally started to whine. “You want it?” he asked, smirking at you as you started to squirm.

“I fucking need it,” you said, your eyes pleading with his. “Please, baby.”

“Only cause you asked so nicely,” he said, as he stuck more than the head of his cock inside of you, the feeling of him stretching you out making you moan. “So fucking tight,” he gasped, filling you up further with each small thrust, until he was fully inside of you.

He wanted to tease you with slow thrusts, but he couldn’t. You felt so amazing around him as his hips started to move faster.

“That feel good?” he asked, as you moaned in response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You were wrapping your legs around him so he could go deeper when he pulled them away, pressing your thighs against your tummy. The new position had him hitting the right spot, his cock filling you so good that you couldn’t hold in your whimpers.

“So deep,” you moaned, as his face tensed up, a feral look in his eyes as he started to pound into you. “Oh fuck!”

“That’s it, baby. You can take it,” he grunted. Your jaw dropped as you were on the edge of your orgasm. “Fuck, you’re already squeezing my cock. You gonna cum?”

“Mhm,” you whimpered, as you felt your legs being spread a little from the position he had them in.

“Rub your clit, baby,” he said, as both of his hands on the back of your thighs gripped you tighter. You did as he said, the euphoric feeling hitting you so hard that you cried out. “Fuck,” Ethan groaned, “Try to be quiet, baby.”

“I can’t” you whimpered, as he chased his own orgasm.

“Bite your lip, cover your mouth, do something. I’m so close,” he said, “I thought you didn’t want us to get caught.”

“I, fuck..I don’t,” you got out between your whimpers.

“Gonna cum,” he said, pulling his cock out and shooting his cum all over your thighs. His eyes kept fluttering as he caught his breath. “I need to find something to get this off you.” You felt his release start to drip down your thighs, towards your ass.

“Uh, I have tissues on my dresser,” you suggested, as he took a couple more deep breaths.

“I can’t wait to do this all the time with you,” he said, as he stood up to grab some tissues.

“Yeah, because dorm sex is going to happen all the time,” you joked, as he smiled.

“I don’t know, maybe my roommate will be cool,” he said, cleaning you up. “Shit, I’ll get to introduce you to people as my girlfriend.”

“You can’t wait for that, can you?” you asked, smiling at him as he shook his head.

“For real though, I think I’ll get so used to spending all my free time with you that I’ll just lose my mind whenever we’re home on break,” he sighed, throwing the tissues away before he laid down beside you.

“You could always just sneak through my window again.”

[towards-toramunda]

Thinking about more iconic lines from the show over the years instead of going to bed and created a list that is far too long:

- What’s my mother’s name?

- My best. Finally.

- I have so many flowers to bring to her.

- You were not born with venom in your veins. You learned it. You learned it.

- Don’t get on my ass about it! All I heard is that its pretty easy to do here thats all I took from what you said. (Bonus: its for the god of arts and crafts)

- At dawn, we plan.

- Doo doot doo doo doot doooo donuts!

- What matters more, the dream or the dreamer?

- Sleep well with your bad decisions.

- Nothing happens for a reason. It’s absolute fucking chaos.

- Patience is fine, but it can curdle into apathy.

- I’ve met the devil, thats not him.

- You never take copper. That's just kicking someone while they're down. You take silver if they're an asshole, and you take gold regardless.

- Time is one of my specialties.

- It’s entirely off-putting how disarmingly charming you are.

- How lucky I am to have had all of you. How lucky indeed.

- I smell like a crayon.

- I could tell by the bone structure and the contempt.

- I think I can punch ghosts now.

- Big moon, little moon.

- Pop, pop!

- I need chaos. I have faith in chaos.

- Molly said not to steal from happy people.

- I am going to tell you the story of how I murdered my mother and father.

- Smiley day to ya!

- I killed my family, I’ll throw you under a bridge.

- We’re on the moon bitch.

- She throws it. I shoot it. It explodes! NO STRUCTURAL DAMAGE! (FLUFFERNUTTER)

- I am all for faith, and I'm not going to pick a god. They can pick me. It'll be the first one that actually praises me and then maybe I'll fucking answer. I'll wait. They can fucking beg. And I will listen, which is more than they ever fucking did.

- I would like to RAGE!

- The worst thing that has happened to me has already happened.

- We're running; it's bad.

- You can reply to this message.

- Dagger, dagger, dagger.

- Opinions are like opera. Sure, you can listen to them, but why would you, really?

- There is no god that strides this world that I worship more than I worship your heart.

- I would like to live long enough to be someone else.

- Help, its again.

- Whoever it was, just put it back. I think they've earned it. Put it back.

- I’m fun scary.

- Sorry, babe. Gotta handle these ninjas.

- I’m the cleric? I’ve never traveled with a bunch of people I thought would die in front of me.

- He thinks I’m gonna go into the water for some fucking buttons.

- You are, at the moment, the luckiest person in Whitestone. Do you know why? Because you’re at the bottom of my list.

- You need me more than I need you.

- I protect him. He’s my boy. And I keep him safe.

- I made the earth remember him.

- Come correct or get corrected.

- Do not go far from me.

- Are you worth saving?

- How do I want to do this?

- Heaven to some, and hell to others.

- Fix him!

- Why do we tell stories?

- Do you spice?

- Listen you fucking jungle! I'm a paladin of the Wildmother. You're going to move or we're going to bust you wide open! We'll wreck this place. Don't make me fucking tell you twice!

- I am your god, long may I rein, eat of my fruits.

- Anybody can make lights. Anybody could send a message through a wire. I want to bend reality to my will.

- Would you like to talk before or after?

- What the fuck is up with that?

- To reach a hand down to somebody, they need to be beneath you! And I'm beneath nobody.

- The one eyed monster slayed my pussy.

- Time is a weird soup.

- I’m killing someone. Hold, please.

- Gold is a resource by which mortaldom climbs.

- Why are you so mean to me?

- Yours is the face I saw when murder entered my heart.

- This one time I saw a bug carrying a piece of bread that was like five times its size and he was carrying upstairs, like up and then he would turn, and then up, and then he would turn.

- I live as long as Whitestone lives.

- Vox Machina! Fuck shit up!

- I’m not disappointed, I’m just angry.

- Someone prayed for a miracle and there you were.

- We don't leave people behind. That's just the rule. You do not leave people the fuck behind.

- Call me child one more goddamned time!

- Finish it, Champion.

- I am of the Empire. But I am no friend to the Empire.

- I think it has been a long time since anyone has pointed out to you that you're a fool. Pain doesn't make people, it's love that makes people. The pain is inconsequential. It's love that saves them. And you would know that but you have none around you. You said so yourself, you surround yourself with lies and deceptions. And I wish for you, in the future, to find someone to mourn you when you are gone.

[corruptedcaps]

Wedding Hells

Abby was happy she finally managed to convince her best friend Lindsay to not marry her fiancé James. Abby had learned that James was secretly the head of the crime family in town and was involved in every dirty deal going.

As happy as Abby was, James was pissed. When Abby came over to pick up some of Lindsay’s belongings he made she sure she knew.

“Well if it isn’t the do gooder little friend who tricked my fiancé into leaving me. I hope you’re proud.” He said with venom.

“Tricked her? I told her the truth of who you really are you creep and soon I’m going to tell everyone as well. Your days not behind bars are numbered.” Abby said straight to his face expecting to see him bubble up with rage but instead he broke into a smile.

“You have a fire and strength in you I had noticed before. You’ll do just am fine as my wife instead.” He said walking over to Lindsay’s never worn dress.

“You’ve lost it now, good luck with your life, or should I say you’re 25 to life.” She said turning on her heel. However within a feel feet she felt the white fabric of the wedding dress draped over her head. Within seconds it seemed to come alive and squeeze down her body.

“What... the... hell...” Abby said trying to rip it off her but found it was too tight.

“You see Lindsay never knew about who I really was but she was going to be my second in command in my growing criminal empire. I had big expansion plans but needed someone I knew would be loyal and ruthless. That’s where this magic dress came in.” James said matter of factly as Abby continued to struggle.

The dress had started to push off her clothes and toss them aside as it enveloped her body and sealed her in. She was quickly dressed as a bride to be but that’s when the real changes began.

The dress constricted her stomach making it hard to breath for a second. However Abby soon felt her belly shrink to match the tight waist of the dress. It actually felt good.

“Oh what are you doing to me you bastard! It feels... it feels... so goooood.” She moaned as her chest heaved outward as two massive tits grew outward from her modest pair.

“You don’t think I became kingpin without the help of the dark arts do you? Soon you’ll understand. When you become the Queenpin.” James said laughing.

Abby should of been furious with him but for some reason she was more turned on then ever before. The word Queenpin making her wet everything she thought it.

“Oh fuck I hate you James you big dick fuck! Once I’m free of this I’m going to fuck your brains out! Wait noooo! I don’t want that! I neeeeed that. No this is wrong!” She said moaning again as her conflicted emotions fought each other.

“You’re right, this is wrong but doesn’t it feel so good to be bad? No more morals, no more caring what anyone thinks? Just taking what you deserve, which is everything! Embrace it Abby, embrace being a bitch!” He said, tempting her.

Abby’s body continued to change as her mind was at war with itself. Her skin took on a healthy tan, sexy makeup was applied generously to her face. Her hair became thick, long and luxurious.

If there hadn’t been a mirror nearby that day, she might have saved her soul. As her eyes made contact with her reflection she found herself drawn into the cold, permanent bitch faced, goddess that was staring back. James was right, she thought, why should she not have everything she ever wanted? A beauty like her deserved the world and if wasn’t going to be given it she would need to take it.

As the good parts of her psyche were replaced by her new meaner, more cutthroat persona her struggling ceased. Her posture straighten into a classical pose and all resistance faded. Her lips curled into a wicked smile as she eyed James not with disgust any longer but with desire.

“Abby? That’s such a childish name. It’s Abigail from now on. Do I look like some immature child?” She said arching herself against a wall so she could shove out her butt. James mouth was agape.

“Sweetheart you’ll catch flies looking like that, how about you come over here and use it on more expensive tastes?” She said with a purr dripping in lust. James didn’t waste any time as he quickly grabbed her and kissed her deeply. Abigail moaned softly as he did, loving how he tasted. Lindsay had always said he was a good lover and now she was about to find out.

Removing the dress, Abigail found herself in some sexy white lingerie, a by product of the magic dress. She pushed James onto the nearby bed and posed sexily for him.

“When we fuck darling, I don’t want to hear Abby, or Abigail come from that mouth of yours. I want to hear only Queenpin, understand?” Abigail said authoritatively, making James get harder.

“Of course… Queenpin.” Her growled making her as wet as he was hard. Strutting over to him she took out his impressive cock and lowered her tight pussy on top.

“Mmmm a perfect fit… Kingpin.” She purred as she started to rise up and down.

The next few hours were a blur of sexual juices, screaming and grunting. By the time they were done Abigail had forgotten ever being Abby. In her mind she had always been Abigail, a tough and brutal but also outrageously beautiful crime boss.

James had planned on telling his men to fall in line and treat her like a boss too but she slipped into the role so easily that they were too scared to disobey her. Within a week she had doubled James’ profits with her ruthless ways. While James was a perfectly cruel and calculating leader, Abigail was literally created to be bad. She was the model of evil.

However not everyone was as impressed as James, namely his ex-fiancée and Abby’s old best friend, Lindsay. She confronted Abigail one day on the street and pleaded with her to tell her what had been done to her but Abigail just looked at her coldly.

“Do I know you? Regardless no one speaks to me like that, I am Queenpin of this city and I could have you disappeared like that.” She said snapping her fingers. When she did, her two burly bodyguards seized Lindsay and threw her into the trunk of Abigail’s luxury tow car.

Sliding in Abigail smirked as she heard the muffled banging of Lindsay.

“It’s no use dear, even if anyone heard you they’re all too afraid to say anything. You don’t have that fear but you will soon. Once I break you you’ll be employed indefinitely as my new live in maid and sex slave. You’re exactly what I need to help me prepare for my upcoming wedding.” Abigail said callously as she put on her designer sunglasses and her driver headed towards her mansion.

THE END

[hehe-69]

Tangerine x Reader

Warnings: cursing, mentions of death, blood, some ptsd from the reader. Maybe a tad bit suggestive at the end. (Couldn’t help myself I guess)

Reader and Tan are already in an established relationship. He comforts her in this one. (Also sorry if it’s butt cheeks I tried)

~•~

“Lemon what the hell is going on? It’s supposed to be an in and out kind of job. You two have been in there for way too fucking long. Call me back!” You throw your phone into the passenger seat of the get away car your in. The Twins were supposed to clear out the wear-house, get the info and get back out. Usally that takes them about an hour minimum.

But it’s been two and 37 minutes.

Your phone rings and you snatch it with the first two.

“Lemon, what’s-“

“Don’t got the time, we’re pined down. Looks like our client lied about the amount of security this shit hole has.” You can hardly hear Lemon over the sound of gunfire in the background. “We’re got the info but we’re running low on ammo…and we’ve got no way out.”

“Fuck” A pit grows in your stomach, you don’t want to lose them. Not after everything you’ve been through together.

“Listen Lemon, what floor are you on?”

“The second, why? Wait don’t tell me you’re going in after-Hey!”

“Luv?” It’s Tangerine, he snatched the phone from Lemon. “You’re staying right where you are, we’ll be fine.”

“Tangerine you’re both pined down, low on ammo, with no way out.” You’re already out of the car and in the trunk grabbing two guns and some knives. “I’m not going to just sit here and do nothing, I should’ve know it wouldn’t be that simple. This is my fault and I’m going to fix it.”

“(Y/N), I said n-“

“Tan I would never forgive myself if either of you got hurt, or worse...” You trail off, “Just sit tight, I’m coming.” You grab a bullet proof vest and put it on, hanging up the phone before Tangerine can say anything.

————————

“Bulocks!” Tangerine tosses the phone back to Lemon. “She hung up on me!”

“She’s worried about us bruv. She has every right to be too.” Lemon shoots two more guys. “Because right now we are fucked.”

“Yeah I know that Lemon, but you know how she gets! We just need-“ All the sudden a bomb goes off and the room fills with smoke.

“How the fuck is she up here already!” Tan whisper yells.

“Well, I’m pretty sure all the assholes are in this room with us bruv!” Just as Lemon says that one of said assholes is coming after then through the smoke. But before he can reach them he falls to the ground, a knife in his back.

“Shit! That was way too close-” Lemon exclamation fall short as the smoke begins to clear and they see you. Your eyes blank and you’re covered in blood, there’s a body at your feet and you’re just staring at it. Like you’re in a trance.

_____________

“Luv?” You can her someone call out, but it’s like they are calling your through a thick wall. Muffled and disoriented, you can’t move, all you can focus on is the man at your feet.

His wallet in his hand.

The family photo now soaked in his blood.

This is why you don’t do jobs anymore, all you see is the lives you’ve taken. And the family’s you’ve ruined.

___________

“Lemon, go get the car started, yeah.” Tan says a couple feet from you. “I’ll bring her out.”

“Yeah…” Lemon can’t stand seeing you like this. You’ve always been so caring and sensitive to others feelings, how someone as good as you got wrapped up in this life is beyond his comprehension.

He’s more than okay with getting the car at this point.

“Hey luv,” Tan says softly putting his hands on your cheeks, making you look up again him. All he is met with is a blank stare. “we’re going home. Okay? You’ve saved our asses.”

Tangerine knows you’re not in the state to listen to a word that comes out of his mouth. But the sound of his voice comforts you.

“Just…stay with me yeah?” He offers you a small smile, all you can muster is a small nod.

Once you’re in the car Tan is holding you in the back while Lemon drives.

“You know…” Lemon begins. “You’re definitely an Emily. Kind, caring, helpful and intelligent. Your sensitive to other’s feelings and and quick to right your wrongs.” You know what he’s doing, he’s trying to make you cheer up. “You’re sensible and you care about our safety. You always have. That guy back there, it wasn’t your fault he chose this life.”

“Lemon, I don’t think they want’s to hear about your fuckin trains right now mate!” Tan snaps, holding you closer as you shake.

“(Y/N) always does, plus if they’re Emily I guess that makes you their Thomas.”

___________

Once you reached your room you went straight for the shower. You’re shaking and your vision is foggy but you somehow managed to make it into the hot water.

It’s hot enough to burn a bit, but you welcome the bit of pain. It grounds you, pulls you out of the fog just that bit more.

After your done, you notice that you got shot in your leg. Bullet still logged in your flesh you’ll have to get it out, but the ned kits are down stairs. You’ll do it later.

Your movements are clumsy and sluggish once you finally get around to dressing yourself, putting on shorts and an old shirt. Sitting on your bed with a towel under your leg, you let yourself think.

——————

Just as you’re about to go down and grab a med kit, Tan enters your room with one in his hands.

“Figured you’d be too worried about us to take care of yourself luv.” Tan chuckles lightly in attempt to cheer you up. “And it looks like I was right.” You offer him a small smile, but it does not meet your eyes. “I’m assuming the bullet is still in there?” Tan asks knelling before you.

He’s cleaned up, his hair is curly with out a drop of gel in it, it’s always beautiful sight. And he’s in sweats and a shirt a huge contrast to his fancy suits. Which means you’ve been just sitting on your bed staring at the wall for a while.

To answer his question you just nod, and Tan sighs. “You know luv, you always say that it’s bad to keep things bottled up.” He begins as he gets out the clamps. “And…I know I’m not as good with feelings as Lemon is. But…I care about you (Y/N). We both do, and seeing you like this is hard for us.” He looks up at you to make sure your listing, but also to silently ask if you were ready. You nod and he goes in to get the bullet out of your leg. You let out a hiss in pain. “Sorry.” Tan says softly, a tone he doesn’t use with anyone but you and Lemon.

“What I’m tying to say is, we’re here for you luv. Whatever you need, we’re here.” Tan finishes his little speech, which may seem lackluster. But it speaks volumes for his own feelings. Tan says he’s bad with feelings but really he just has so many walls that it’s hard to decipher them.

“That’s my line.” You attempt to joke, a hiss follows after as Tan pulls the bullet from your leg.

“It’s a great line dove.” Tan smiles. “One you’ve used on me quite often, but I know you mean it. And I mean it too, I’m here for you.” Tan’s change from we’re here to I’m here, may seem small, but it’s enough to warm your cheeks and make your stomach do flips.

“You’re going to need some stitches, want me to get Lemon to do them?”

“No, let Lemon rest, I’ll do then myself.” You begin to reach for the needle but before you can grab it Tan snatched it from the med kit.

“Oh no you don’t dove, I’ll do them.” You don’t even try to argue, he patches you up in silence. It’s a comfortable one, interrupted a couple of hisses and grunts followed by an apology form Tan.

Once he is done he, Tan puts everything back in the med kit and cleans up the mess. You expect him to leave afterwards, but he sits next to you in your bed instead.

“I mean it luv. Whatever you need, whatever you want…I’m here.” Tan once again has a softness in his voice, but there is something more glimmering in the striking blue of his eyes. Something that makes your heart skip a beat. Something that has remained unspoken between you for months.

“I’m sorry Tan,” you look down at your lap. “I should’ve known the job wouldn’t be that easy. And I almost got you two killed-“

“Hey,” Tan lifts your head to look at him with his hand on your cheek. “We should’ve never gotten ourselves into that situation to begin with…” he moves a strand of your head out of your face. “I just wish you hadn’t gotten involved like that.” His hands frame your face as he looks at you, nothing but admiration shines in his eyes.

You let out a hum in response and close your eyes, letting yourself enjoy the weight and heat of his palms on your cheek.

“Could you say here, with me for a little bit.” You mumble out.

“Always.” Is all Tan says before he leans in to kiss your forehead. Something he’s done before in the past, but it never fails to make you swoon. You let out a soft giggle.

“There’s my girl.” Tan mutters as he leans back, he’s met with your smile. You narrow your eyes at him. “Your girl huh.” A playful tone in your voice, which causes a smile of his own to form on Tan’s face.

“Yeah,” he says leaning in this time to kiss you on your lips. “My girl.” You hear him whisper right before your lips meet.

The first kiss is a short but meaningful one, a quick peck.

When Tan moves away from your lips you pull him back in for another kiss, an action that pulls a breathless chuckle from Tan.

When your lips meet let yourself melt into it, all your tension and fear gone, as his hand cups your cheek with a delicate touch. He’s other goes to your hip. You let your hands run through his hair, and you hear the soft groan leave Tan’s lips at the feeling.

When you pull back you let your forehead rest against his. “I love you.” Tan whispers out. That’s something neither of you have said before, but it’s always been there. Just hanging in the air between the two of you, neither bold enough to say it till now.

“I love you too.” You respond softly and Tan grins genuine and bright, blue eyes shining.

God he’s beautiful you think as he kiss you again, this time pulling you into his lap.

~•~

BOOM!

I did it anyway, I count help it.

Sorry if it bad, I tried. I cannot tell you how long I’ve been thinking about this scenario.

But I hope it was enjoyable.

Thanks for reading, your a camp🥳

Also if there is anything you have been wanting to read about when it comes to tangerine please feel free to comment it or something and I’ll try my best to do it justice.

[beastofburdenxo]

Deal of A Lifetime

Tommy's new wife has a terrible accident. He makes a deal that could change everything.

MINORS DNI 2.1k words Tags: Language, face fucking, oral sex, degradation, unsafe sex, P in V sex, cream pie, slight dom/sub vibes, slight dacryphilia, multiple orgasms

“I’m sorry Tommy.” Polly’s words rang out like a bell in his head. “There was a terrible accident. She was hit by a car crossing the street to go to work. They don’t know if she’s going to make it.” Tommy dropped to his knees cursing any deity listening to his cries. “I told her Polly; I told her not to go in today. I knew something bad was going to happen, I just knew it. I can’t lose another wife; I just can’t do it.” A few years back his first wife was shot and killed in front of him, and now this. It’s almost like a cruel prank the universe has put on Thomas Shelby. He can only be happy for a little while until everything comes crashing down. She was his saving grace in his personal storm called life, and now possibly she may be called away. Tommy stood up, a mixture of sadness and pure rage in his heart. “I must go to her Polly. Maybe I can call her back to me.” He goes outside with almost a physical storm cloud over his head. The people of the town know to stay away, not even to give their condolences. The first person stupid enough to come up to him is liable to be shot. Tommy almost wishes someone would; so, he would have something to take his anger out on.  

He storms through the hospital doors, demanding to see his angel on earth. “Where is she?!” Tommy roars to no one in particular. “So help me God, where the fuck is she?!” A timid nurse takes him to her, and it is a grim sight indeed. She is lying in the hospital bed, with bandages on much of her body. She is unconscious, pain meds running through her damaged system. “It’s not looking good Tom,” Arthur comes up behind him, hand on his shoulder. “She has lost a lot of blood; Doctor’s say it’s touch and go. Most of her body is damaged in some way.” Tommy’s knees got weak at this news. “I want the driver found and cut on the spot; I don’t care who sees.” He enters her room. She looks so fragile and weak lying there. “Tommy’s here angel, I’m right here.” He gently grabs her hand. “Stay with me love, please, I need you.” With no one else around, he starts to cry. “I told you to stay home didn’t I, eh? So stubborn you are.” Tommy leans down to put his face in the crook of her neck, and just sobs. Begging and pleading with her and anything or anyone listening to stay with him. “I need you, love. Please. I love you so much, I can’t be left alone again. You are my everything, you know that? I do this all for you, fuck everyone else. I need you with me.”  

Night falls, and there is no improvement. Eventually, the nurses kick Tommy out and he is forced to leave her. Threatening them was no use. Anger surfaces again in place of despair as he proceeds to punch the brick building until red leaves his vision. He slumps down against the building, face in his bloody beat-up hands. He knows what he must do. Opinions of the family be damned. Against better judgment, Tommy Shelby must go to the crossroads. He’s heard of the crossroad demon all his life. He never had much use for one until now. He knew the payment in return would be high, possibly even his tattered soul, but it was worth it in his eyes. Five minutes till midnight he stands at the crossroad, small wooden box in hand. Inside is a picture of the one he is doing this for, and a lock of his hair. Tommy digs a small hole and buries it, a small offering to call the demon. For good measure he cuts the palm of his hand and trickles his blood over the mound of dirt. And now Tommy waits. He checks his pocket watch; it is midnight on the dot. “Alright, you demon where are you? I left the offering. I know you can’t resist the smell of blood.”  

Tommy hears footsteps. “Actually, it’s the smell of desperation that we can’t resist. The blood is just an added bonus.”  A woman; or what used to be a woman now stands before him. Tall and graceful looking, with deep amber skin. She was quite beautiful, but Tommy knew it was just a vessel. The inside was rotten as could be. “Ahh, Tommy Shelby. The devil of Small Heath. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Her voice was intoxicating, running up his spine almost causing a tremor. “Cut the shit, demon. You know why I am here; I want to make a deal.”  The demon slowly walks closer to Tommy. “Is that right? What could I possibly do for big bad Tommy Shelby? Not tall enough, are you? Trade your soul to feel like more of a man?” She finds this very funny, and she begins to giggle. Tommy’s patience is running thin. “This isn’t about me you bitch. It's my wife. She's in the hospital and it’s not looking good. Please help her.” She stops giggling. She blinks and her eyes are now solid black. Demon eyes. “Oh, poor baby. Tommy’s flavor of the month is going to die, oh no! Only a demon like me can save her.” Her voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s in it for me? Your soul? That pathetic thing isn’t worth trading for. You have taken almost as much lives as me.” Tommy drops to his knees. “Please, I have money. I have gold. I have cocaine. Please name your price.” An evil grin crawls across the demon’s face. “Well, well, I have Tommy Shelby on his knees. She must be important for you to grovel. This is quite a pretty sight. Are you going to start crying too?”  

The demon reaches down and tugs at his hair, making him look at her in her midnight eyes. “I could leave you be with your love for ten years. Then send my hell hounds after you to take you back where you belong. Make you watch her cry for you until she moves on. Have you watch as another man claims her as his own. Would you like that? She would still be alive to break your heart over and over again.” Tears form in Tommy’s eyes at the thought of her forgetting him. But she would be alive, and that’s all he ever wanted. “You say you have gold, money, and cocaine. Is your body on the table as well?” Tommy’s eyes grow big. “Are you asking to use my vessel? Possess me?” She shoves him to the ground using her unnatural strength. She straddles him, pinning him to the spot. “Well, I'll certainly be using you. You’ll be begging me to possess you before it’s over. The pleasure will be just too much for your mortal vessel.” She bends down and licks the side of his face, making him cringe. “You nasty bitch!” Tommy snarls, “This is serious and you're using the situation to get laid?!” She runs her hands along his body, “What can I say? When the opportunity presents itself, you’ve got to take it. Besides, it’s the only thing I miss about being mortal. The hot nasty sex. That’s one thing you pathetic humans get right.”  

She pulls down the top of her dress, exposing her large breasts to Tommy. He turns his head, willing his body to not betray him. “Look at me Tommy.” She purrs seductively wiling him to fall prey to her. “Look at this beautiful body. Don’t you want this? I see inside you Tommy; I see your weakness. You love a willing woman, don’t you?” She slowly starts to grind against him, demanding that he participate in her sick game. “You’re not a real woman demon!” Tommy protests. “You’re using some poor vessel to disguise yourself. You are far from human you evil whore!” This angers the demon, and she slaps him across the face. “This is how it will be Tommy, give yourself up or little wifey dies. Got it? Now seal the deal with a kiss.” Tommy takes a shaky breath, knowing there is no way out now. He started this whole thing, he summoned her. Now it’s time to pay up to save his wife. He angrily grabs her face and kisses her with all he has. The deal has been made. “Now was that so hard Tommy?” The demon asks, as her hand reaches down to undo his pants. “Ahh, now here’s something that is hard.” Her hand contacts flesh and finds what she is looking for.  

She slowly pulls his cock out, her eyes returning to human form. “Well, well, so rumors about you are true huh?” Tommy sits up, fed up with her mouth. He grabs the sides of her head and forces himself in her mouth. “Shut the fuck up demon. You wanted me so badly, well here the hell it is. Choke on it.” She easily slides down to the base, taking every inch of him down her throat. He growls at how well she takes him. His wife can’t even do that. “Can’t speak now, can you? Just some fucking peace and quiet with a human cock down your throat.” Tommy continues to use her throat like a toy, berating her with every stroke. “Even a demon needs a man to put her in her place huh? Still some holes that need to be filled, soul or not.” Now it is the demons turn to be sick of his shit. She grabs his hips and throws him off her. She moves faster than the blink of an eye and has him on his back again. “I only let you do that to me. I could have broken your neck, you worthless sack of shit. You are my toy to do as I see fit. Now serve your purpose and shut your mouth before I change my mind you cock with legs.” Before he can form a rebuttal, she sinks down on him in one swift motion. She may be dead inside, but she is still very warm around him. Drawing him in her web. Tommy’s mind goes blank, too drunk on her to feel angry anymore. She tilts her head back in pleasure. “Yes Tommy, this is definitely your purpose. Just a brainless hole filler, aren’t you?” She looks down at his drunken face. “Can’t even form a response, it’s like you’ve never been fucked before.” She grabs his face, “Look at me when I fuck you, Tommy. It’s just what you need, to be reminded where you belong. Underneath. Me. Servicing. Me.” Thrusting hard with every word. As much as he hates this, her words make him fall apart with a cry inside her. A woman has never spoken to him like this before and his body can’t get enough of it. 

He comes inside the demon, his whole-body trembling. “Oh no Tommy, was that too much for you?” The demon feigns compassion. “Looks like we’ll have to go again, see if you can get it right this time.” Tommy tries to tell her no, that he is too sensitive. She starts up again, ignoring his pleas for a small break at least. His body ignores him too, he’s hard as iron ready to be used again. Tommy bites his lip, trying to hold in the whimpers of sensitivity turning into pleasure. “Let me hear those pathetic whimpers, Tommy. Be good for me, yeah? Be a good cock for me?”  She rides him on the hard ground with all she has, and Tommy can’t take much more. “Yes, yes, I'll be a good cock for you. Yes, please come, please come, yes, I'll be good.” Tommy is blabbering, not even sure he is making sense. He doesn't know if she is really that good, or if she's just using her magic on him. He honestly doesn't care. She is just so good that his mind is melting. “Good boy, Tommy. Good boy. I'm going to come so hard; you are such a good toy for me to use, aren’t you?” Without any further warning, the demon milks him with supernatural strength, making tears fall down Tommy’s face. Her orgasm causes her eyes to blacken again as she looks down at her human toy, crying and spent with pleasure as it’s her turn to tremble and shake. Coming down from her release, she strokes his overwhelmed face. “You know, you are so pretty when you cry. I’d go again if I didn’t think it would kill you. Maybe next time.” She stands up like nothing happened between them, fixing her dress. “Your wife is awake; you might want to fix yourself up and go see her. Consider the debt paid, until I want more that is. You will be seeing me again dear Tommy.” The demon disappears into the dark, leaving Tommy wondering if the debt will be until he dies naturally, or until she kills him.