#5.4 k

[jdproductions]

DJI Air 2s Review, a Cinematic Beast! Drone of the Year!!!!

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Pussydrunk!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Cockdrunk!Fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Simon comes home from deployment, hungry to have his pretty girl all to himself. Things get heated quick and before long you are both drunk off the feeling of the other. From this ask here.

Word Count: 5.4 k

Warnings:

The moment those heavy boots hit the threshold of the apartment, brown eyes are searching for you as Simon’s heart pounds in his ears the same as it had the entire drive over. He’s been gnawing at the bit since even before he returned to base a day ago, aching to get back to the gorgeous being living in his flat. The last month of his deployment he’s been on edge, counting down the days in agonizing fashion as the craving growing in the pit of his stomach gets worse and worse. Fuck, he’s missing you - all of you - something fierce. 

Simon has missed those sweet moans of yours, the way you make his name sound so perfect through the stuttered gasps as you reach that level of incoherence that renders you completely useless; he has missed all the ways your body moves against and underneath him, writhing and back arching as his larger form overwhelms you; he has missed the way you fuck him, body begging for more even as you struggle to fit him all in and how beautiful it is to be inside you. 

It is enough to drive the man insane.

From the bedroom you can hear the door opening and closing and rush to the living room as quick as your legs can move, carried by giddy nerves to see your lover again after so long. You knew he was meant to be in today, but not the time and so you’ve been on edge waiting and listening; as soon as you see him a deepening ache situates itself in your chest. 

Simon clocks you as you come into the living room and he can’t find enough air to fill his lungs; by the way your cheeks instantly glow with warmth and your eyes sparkle he’s sure you are feeling the same tension fill the air around you the moment you two are in sight of one another. You are the one to close the distance as Simon’s limbs feel too heavy to move at first, blood being drawn to other places along his body that need it more now that he is near to the object of his desire. 

“Hey there stranger,” you smile up into those familiar balaclava- clad features as your heartbeat steadily becomes more erratic from your body flooding with that desperate longing to be against him once again. It is always the same: when you two are apart for long periods when he has to be away the moment you are in front of one another again it is like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline. “Long time no see.” 

He stares back down at you, light chocolate eyes taking in the face he hasn’t seen properly in too damn long. “Well ‘ello there yerself, pretty girl,” he returns, gravely tone sending chills down your spine as he drops the gear on his shoulder to the floor so that he has free range of motion to cup his calloused hand along your soft, delicate cheek. “It’s been a hot fuckin’ minute. Did ya miss me, luv?”

Before his brain can register what’s happening he senses something brush up against him in the small space still between your bodies and as his eyes travel down he sees that your hand is grabbing at his belt buckle, silky digits lacing themselves around the metal clasp. His eyes jump back up to yours instantly.

You aren’t wasting any time, are you? Fucking hell.

“Missed you a whole fucking lot, Simon,” you say under your breath as you give his belt a firm tug forward so that he has to take a step into you. Your thighs are already being rubbed together where you stand; it’s instant the way he can turn you on just by his presence alone. “Didn’t know when you’d be in; been waiting as patiently as I could, but I gotta say it hasn’t been easy. Got my nerves all flustered. How about you? Are you flustered, baby?”

You just have to do it, don’t you? That one damned gesture that always sends him reeling.

It isn’t a secret how the time apart makes him pine for you as if he is a man dying of thirst: for those hot, breathless moments spent between your thighs, for the way your bodies seem created only for the other, for the intense sensations of euphoria that only you can give him. So when your fingers hook into his belt to pull him in closer, you know what effect it will have on making him crumble, don’t you? 

Eight months is far too fucking long not to have any piece of you and any little touch would have done the trick to do him in, but you know the exact combination that will have him throwing you on your back in a heartbeat. He is a man starved of his addiction and it’s about goddamn time he had another hit. As you tug at the leather with a smirk across your lips, doe-eyed stare not so innocent anymore, all that yearning that had been bubbling right under the calm surface of those autumn-colored eyes for eight long, agonizing months explodes with force. 

No words, not a goddamn sound as that skull mask is ripped up off of Simon’s face in a flash quicker than your eyes can catch. Your body is moved by two strong arms more than capable of manhandling those curves with ease and find yourself slammed into the wall while he clasps your chin securely in his grip so that hungry lips can scramble to aggressively capture your own. While your lips dance, his free hand roams up under your clothes to grab ahold of any piece of available flesh as all that pent up desire surges through his veins like liquid fire. His fingertips tremble as they brush across all that soft, balmy skin along your abdomen and around your hips, making him produce a guttural moan into your open mouth that you are forced to swallow down. 

That huge, hulking body of his with its prominent muscles bulging everywhere even through his clothing overwhelms your own as he pins you harder against the wall while his grip descends to around your ass so that he can bring your hips forward, clothed pelvis rutting into you to catch any extra bit of friction he can as that tenting at the crotch of his pants swells the longer he grinds against you. His mouth is insatiable, stealing sloppy, frantic kisses one after another until your lips burn from the abrasion… and yet you still aren’t satisfied. 

Simon feels your nipples through your t-shirt stiffening as his chest rubs against them, a reminder to his numbing brain that there is even more of a feast for him waiting just beneath your clothes if he can just get them off you; the couple of nudes he keeps in his phone that you send him while he’s away are only a pale comparison to the real fucking thing and he’s been dying see it in person.

You’re close to one another, but not fucking close enough. 

He needs skin on skin, curves molded into curves, cock buried in you deep. That’s the crux of it all - he needs to be reminded of what you feel like wrapped around him, lose his mind as your cunt gives him the sensation he can get nowhere else from no one else. It consumes him in that moment until his thoughts are filled with nothing but the oncoming ecstasy that will soon be his. 

Feverish fingers slip themselves into the waistband at the back of your pants as he continues to rut against you, the few layers of fabric between you about to be reduced as he shoves down taking your pants over the arch of your ass until they fall around your ankles and you can step out of them. Your own fingers are already undoing the buckle of his belt before your clothes can hit the floor; thank fuck that Simon likes to keep his wardrobe uncomplicated when on leave. 

“Christ, I’m so fuckin’ hard for ya, sweetheart,” he breathes the heated, desperate words against your raw lips as hips continue to grind on you and make your work that much more difficult, “it’s been hell being away for so long. I’ve been fuckin’ starved, baby. That sweet little pussy of yours is callin’ my fuckin’ name. I need it, I need ya…fuckin’ can’t wait another goddamn second.” 

The muscles along his abdomen tense through his shirt as you brush against them until finally his belt comes loose and you can move onto the button securing his pants. You finish undoing everything just in time for him to tear that fucking shirt clean off your top half before doing exactly the same to his own. 

The middle of his chest is flushed pink and hastily you lean in to press your lips to it, through the tingle against your mouth from tiny hairs brushing over the delicate skin you can feel he is so warm it’s like he’s heated from the inside out. That broad chest heaves up and down heavily with the weight of his lust-filled breaths as you dot tender pecks along the center before he can’t take anymore and picks you up, throws you over his shoulder, and hurriedly drags you off to the bedroom hungry and ready to indulge.  

“That’s it,” Simon says in that brash tone that lets you know he’s reached his limit. “Can’t take this ache ‘nother goddamn second. You and that sweet thing between your legs are mine now.”  

He’s able to make it across the apartment in no time and throws open the bedroom door so that it hits the wall behind it with a booming thud as he stalks to the bed and sets you down on the surface, making sure to remove the pants hanging loosely around his hips as quick as he can along with his boxers. The moment he’s free of the clothing binding him that thick, meaty appendage springs to life, bobbing at attention as the vein along it pulses, and your breath hitches as your eyes are drawn to it; he’s not the only one who’s hungry and its been a hot fucking minute since you’ve laid eyes on all he has to offer.

You barely have time to scramble up towards the pillows at the head of the bed before he is crawling up towards you, a predator’s gaze making his iris’ flash and sparkle with an internal fire in the scant bit of light from the bedside lamp that illuminates the room. 

Simon’s shoulder muscles tense as he moves on all fours until he’s over you, his cock dangling down as he gets between your legs so that it drags over the petals of your pussy. You can feel it throb as it becomes even more engorged with blood at the stimulation and it makes your mouth salivate. A strained grunt echoes through his closed lips as the tip grazes over that silky, heated skin between your thighs; he’s already vibrating with pleasure… what the fuck is gonna happen when he gets inside?

Only one way to find out…

Simon pulls your legs up high around his waist, wide torso keeping you nice and spread for him. You claw at his shoulder blades with your nails as you shove your hips into him, body practically begging for him to get inside already. Screw any foreplay, you can’t afford to wait and let this frantic moment slip by. There is only one thing you want in you and it is already throbbing at its destination. 

“Fuck, please Simon, just get inside me,” your plea sends a shiver down his spine. “I don’t want to fucking wait…waited long enough.”

Spitting into his hand he applies the moisture to your entrance, lubricating the opening with hard presses of his fingertips along your cunt to help get things moving in the right direction. “Been a while, baby,” he returns as he aligns the tip and presses it against you while trying not to fall apart at the seams, “ya sure ya can still fuckin’ take it all?”

You nod aggressively, the need to be filled out by him overwhelming your every sense. You’ve waited patiently all this time, chomping at the bit for him to get back to you and now that he is here between your legs it’s all you can think about. “Give it to me,” you demand. “I need it baby, please, I’m aching something terrible. I need to feel you inside me again.”

How could he ever deny a request like that from you? 

The world falls away as the tip slips through the threshold of your body and inside and he has to stop as just the head alone stretching you wide sends him spiraling. Your back arches off of the bed as you squirm under him, mouth falling open with half-formed moans that get caught in the back of your throat as the tight space is beginning to fill. Simon shudders with ecstasy, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth to bite down in hopes that the sharp pain will force him to stay sane.  

Another thrust shoves him in a bit more so that now he’s more than halfway there, but still has just a bit to go. Your body doesn’t stand a chance as you lay under him at his mercy. His fingernails graze your waist as his hands hold on tight; he has to fit it in, get to the base, completely surround himself within you. Taking a deep breath he gathers another burst of energy to thrust all the way until he bottoms out and you release a cry into the silence of the room. 

“Goddamn ya feel so fuckin’ good princess, like a goddamn dream,” he gasps out as his head snaps down against your chest. “Pretty girl, my pretty fuckin’ girl, wanna keep ya fuckin’ full ‘a me all the time.”

Simon’s brain is quickly becoming mush as the warmness and growing wetness of your pussy makes his large form quiver at the bliss. You are no better, sanity slipping away as his hefty cock practically molds your walls to his specific shape as it rests inside. Hips begin to rock and are immediately punctuated by a deep-throated groan with each snap as he settles into a steady rhythm.   

Thrust after thrust each one harder than the last pushes your body until it is shoved up and your head hits the wall behind the bed. Simon’s nose nuzzles into your neck as feeble whimpers leave the confines of your mouth and pack his head full. “Missed your sounds too,” he says, amidst another thrust. “Keep this up and it’s gonna be my fuckin’ end, sweetheart.” Another strong thrust follows and then another.  

A yearning need to see himself fuck your gorgeous body suddenly engulfs his mind and so he slow sits himself up on his knees, making sure to keep himself inside you, so that he can get the perfect birdseye view of the beautiful way your body takes him in. It’s perfection and he cannot help but become absorbed in watching as each thrust in and out makes his cock disappear inside that narrow passage only to slip back out covered in more of your juices with each pass. 

Over and over his hips rock into you, the muscles along his abdomen clenching, fingertips digging into your sides to hold you still as his speed steadily increases the longer he goes. Your music fills his head, whimpers of pleasure as he strikes against your g-spot from the angle he’s positioned in, and that is the only thing that is floating in there now as everything else becomes a blur. 

The stoic and collected military officer is reduced to a glorious mess the longer he thrusts, drooling over you, going blind and delirious at the feeling of those tight, silky walls sucking him all in as they flutter around his cock. It’s been too long, too many nights spent alone without your company stuck half-way across the world with only his hand to keep him occupied when he can get a free moment, which those were few and far between. But nothing, nothing ever could compare to the feeling of you.

“Can’t get enough,” he stammers with a groan, so wrapped up in the moment that speech is near impossible to produce. “Fuckin’ desperate for ya, need more…need fuckin’ more…”

Simon is deep inside you and yet that ache is still monstrous, eating him alive so that anything outside of the ecstasy of your flesh is just fucking gone. He can’t think, he can’t breathe, he’s obsessed with your body. It isn’t enough though, never enough. You have completely consumed him; he is under your spell and nothing can break the charm.

His head is spinning, thoughts vacant like he is wasted; fuck, he’s high off the sensation of your pussy clenching around him. Now that he is inside you, there is no way he can leave anytime soon. There’s no goddamn way he’s going to let either of you come yet, not after how long you two have gone without each other. 

That hot coil tensing in the pit of his stomach pulls tighter and tighter, but he will not let it snap… not yet. No, he needs this to last as long as he physically can keep it up and so he knows what he has to do and with all his strength he does it; that once intense pounding slows down until he stops amongst your whimpered mewling. 

“What’re you doing?” you stutter, hips desperately trying to buck against him, but he pins them down for a bit. 

“Uh, uh,” he shakes his head, “don’t ya fuckin’ dare think you’re gonna come yet. Ya feel too fuckin’ good to let go of.”

Oh shit… You were in for it now, but just how much you could have never guessed. 

“No…no, please… I need you to keep going,” you plead as your throat strains to release the words, water rimming the whites of your eyes. That consuming ache is so deep in your bones it threatens to devour you whole, causing you to rip at the very seams as it permeates every fiber of your being until your entire form is primed like an explosive ready to combust. You can’t breathe, you can’t fucking think; everything is focused on how much the feeling of him is consuming all of you like a fire burning through dry tinder.

A shuddering breath escapes his lips; even stopping doesn’t help much, your body just feels too good and so he has to at least rut carefully against it. “I know, baby, I know,” he groans as his fingers dig into your hip to now force you to grind your clit into the base of his shaft. “But ya want this to fuckin’ last, yeah? Ya don’t wanna be done with me just yet, do ya?”

That thick, veiny appendage lay inside you, its girth stretching out the walls of your cunt to capacity as it simply rests there throbbing with the beat of his rapid heart rate, stewing in the filthy mess of juices he’s already made between your legs. You choke on a whimper as the stimulation to your clit sends a shockwave through to your toes and you clench them together, gathering some of the sheets into their grip. 

“No,” you shake your head wildly. “You just feel so fucking good, I can’t help it… feels so good… I just wanna keep feeling good with you, Simon.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he praises as he leans forward and presses his burning lips to the skin on your stomach, knowing that no matter what you would have said he wasn’t going to let you tap out yet; he needs your pussy like he needs air to survive. “It’s been too fuckin’ long since we’ve been able ta do this…need ta make up for all the lost time.” 

Simon’s dreamt about this the entire time you’ve been apart; insatiable, desperate, carnal fantasies about fucking your tight hole to within an inch of your sanity, making you come so hard that you can’t move for hours after. His cock has been throbbing for months with nothing but his fucking hand to take the edge off as he pictures filling out every inch of your hole until there is nowhere left for his cock to go.

Another couple of minutes of simply breathing, grinding, and focusing on the way the skin of your torso is so soft against his lips and he’s far enough from that ledge that he wants to start thrusting full force again. He leans down and wraps his arms around your body and you take it as a sign that he’s going to start up again, only for him to roll you both until you are the one on top now. The movement is unexpected, but you are more than willing to go along with it if it means you can take control of your own pleasure. 

As he situates himself under you, his hands roam up and down your sides while he takes a second to enjoy how you look perched over him: full tits directly in his face, hair cascading around your cheeks as you peer down into his face, eyes rolling back in your head every time a sensitive point gets stimulated. You are his fucking fantasy when you get on top. 

“I wanna have ya ride me for a bit,” he breathes. “Show me how good ya ride it, pretty girl. Make my cock your toy.”

As long as he stays inside you, you’ll do whatever the hell he wants.    

Placing your hands on his hard chest for support while his hand moves back to your hips, Simon guides you up and down until you are bouncing in rhythm to match his racing heartbeat. Harder and harder he shoves you forcefully down to get as deep into you as possible until you can feel bruises rising where his hands have a hold of you, yet that doesn’t matter at all as you can only comprehend the way his cock is rendering you too fucking dumb to think of anything else.  

Pushing down against his chest you bob up and down on your knees as best as you can, trying to keep up with his relentless pace. He told you to use him, but all you want is for him to make you his living fleshlight as you are forced to take it all. Your movements start to get sloppy after a time as you can hardly keep yourself focused anymore with how good it feels and Simon takes notice, though he is ready with the solution.

His hips start to strike up into your pussy as even though he is beneath you he is more than capable of taking control, not wanting to move into a new position just yet. You whimper and whine with your mouth hung open as each percussive hit sends shockwaves of euphoria ripping through you just like you want. This is too much for anyone to handle: you being entirely ravaged by him until you are so desperately lost in the pleasure of it all that you are in a complete state of full body bliss. 

You can only sit and take every last delectable inch that he gives you as his massive girth stretches your walls with every thrust of his pelvis upward. The room fills with the wet, sticky music of your bodies slapping against each other as he works your hole as if this is the last chance he will ever get to fuck you and he needs to make it count.

Minute after minute, his full attention being focused solely on you, each stroke along that incredibly sensitive bundle of nerves inside your core drives you increasingly closer to that razor’s edge and threatens to violently throw you off at any point without notice. He must be feeling it too, for again his thrusting slows until he is simply grinding against you once again and that building pressure falls away. 

Over and over again this happens, Simon edging you both closer and closer before struggling to back off and changing positions in a constant rotation, each position just as mind-numbing as the last now that you are cockdrunk. You find yourself on your knees with your head shoved into the mattress  and then on your side with him pressed up against your back, bouncing on top with his hand desperately cupping at your tits and then returning to where it all started on your back, all the while the constant humping during the calmer moments keeps you primed and yet just far enough off the edge that each new round keeps building towards that desperate end. 

Goddamn his stamina is something of legend, but when he wants something bad enough he will make it work no matter how hard he must push himself. And right now he cannot get enough of you no matter how he tries. 

Fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard you think you might pass out, the room so warm your hair sticks to the sides of your face, the scent of sex pungent with each ragged breath shared between your close mouths; every single sense overstimulated to the point of barely being able to process it all. You are perched on his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck, foreheads pressed together tight with eyes shut. 

Simon leans in to kiss your raw mouth, but even the contact from your lips makes him gasp from the sensitivity. Your legs are shaking violently now as he’s slowed once more, every muscle pushed to its limit as he rocks his hips into you just because it feels too good to ever stop completely. Both of you are sparkling from head to toe, coated with the speckled dew of perspiration to match the absolute mess Simon has made between your legs. 

Smooth thighs glisten with that warm, moist, natural lubrication of your cunt as it dribbles out of you and onto the sheets beneath to leave a noticeable dark spot on the bed that’s still warm to the touch. Simon’s mouth waters as the taste buds along his tongue prick to life at the sight, begging to savor all your sweet nectar, but he tells himself to not get ahead of things. 

The rest of the night you are going to be his and he will get everything he wants of it all before the end.

Just like you, Simon is out of his goddamn mind with pleasure. The sensation consumes everything inside him until there is nothing left; the only way he can communicate is through breathy groans and staggered grunts as if he is only an animal now. He craves to be the blood in your veins, the air in your lungs, the only goddamn thing you need. And that is when he knows that he cannot hold off another second. 

Without warning he pulls out of you only briefly so that he can aggressively flip you over onto your back, getting into position by kneeling in front of you as he throws your legs onto his broad, sculpted shoulders before he grips your hips and instantly re-enters you. This is it, though he can’t barely speak, it’s gonna happen whether he is ready or not so he is going to be damned sure to make it go off with a fucking bang.

Again Simon picks up his desperate pace, his abs dripping with sweat as they contract and release after each desperate thrust. Those brown eyes close off to the rest of the world, just absorbing every last second of that mind-numbing goodness that he can before he blows.

“F-fuck, Simon...mmmm…” you whine your plea as you can feel that warmth rising harshly in the pit of your stomach, “p-please… d-d-don’t stop.”

Your mind is all static, so lost on Simon’s cock that you cannot stand it; it’s overwhelming in its intensity that you actually aren’t entirely sure you want to come yet. If you could just stay suspended in this moment forever, you’d die happy. All that edging has done its job just as intended though and with a few more strong thrusts of him deep in your core, that is it: like a hot flash of white light you squeal out in unsteady whimpers as your orgasm rips through you with such force you nearly bolt off the bed as your back arches and your hips buck harshly against him. 

A roar is released from within his chest, his body writhing as he holds on to your waist for dear life while he milks his cock inside you, coating your walls in his cum until he has no more left in him to give. He sounds like a wild animal and it makes your body vibrate with exhilaration; you are the one to make him come with such force he is reduced to more basic instincts. 

You fall back against the bed as your body shakes violently with the force of your orgasm. Never has such intense pleasure overwhelmed you so thoroughly that your limbs tremble uncontrollably before and though the exhaustion overtakes you, it is euphoric. Simon slowly slips himself out of your pussy as he sits back, his overstimulated cock twitching with sensitivity as he removes it from your tightness.

You whimper a little, instantly missing the feeling of him stretching you out and honestly wishing he would have just stayed inside even longer, but you know if you don’t have even a small break that you are not going to survive.

His strong hands hold your vibrating legs apart as he sits back on the mattress exhausted and a million miles away as he watches as his cum dribbles out of your pussy like honey; goddamn did he stuff you to the brim. All you can do is lay there with your eyes shut tight, heart thudding against your ribs as you focus all your remaining brain power on breathing. From your head to the tips of your toes you sparkle with perspiration as if you are decked out in diamonds that shimmer in the low light of the room.

“Christ Simon…gonna kill me,” you chuckle lightly as your mouth finally is able to do something other than hang open. 

Eyes still closed, the sensation of his lips brushing against your inner thigh catches your attention. “Not…yet,” his low, gruff voice hits your ears from between your legs, accent heavy with his fatigue. Why did that sound like a promise?

Your mouth is already forming the question when it instantly dies on your tongue as you become aware of a firm grip from those strong hands spreading your legs open even further as his body slides off the edge of the mattress and onto the floor to sit on his knees with his face at optimal level with your pussy.

“Simon?” you ask hastily as you struggle up to your elbow to see those dark eyes peer up at you just over the mound of your sex. 

The corner of his mouth is barely visible, but you can see it upturn. He may have come, but he is nowhere near finished yet. “Still fuckin’ hungry for ya,” he growls before descending down into the ecstasy of the space in between your thighs. 

Simon just needs to buy time until he can get it up again…good thing his tongue is always ready to go. Sharp features are instantly soaked as he dives in without hesitation, the scent of your arousal instantly clinging to his cheeks and making his cock begin to twitch. His mouth is filled with a combination of both of your flavors as his tongue does what it does best: find your clit like a pleasure-seeking missile. He is ready to get completely lost in you all over again, this time with his first favorite activity and all you can do is hold on as he straps you to his face.

Let the feast on your pussy continue…it’s gonna be a long fucking while until he’s done with you.

Tagging: @llelannie @thicksexxualtension @cheolsblkwife @cum-tea-and-towels @sillylittlereader @mesyakee

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Make Friends 1/4 (Word count 5.4 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

A/N: AU where König (sadly) isn't a colonel and doesn't have a t-shirt as a hood but an... actual hood. Please heed the tags lovelies 🩷

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

No one sees a cleaning lady.

Cleaners are invisible. People remember them only when their desks start to gather dust, when their floors are full of mud. No one sees her except the tallest guy in the building: the guy who everybody seems to ignore, just like they ignore her.

It doesn't take long to see why. He's different, and not just because of the mask he's wearing.

She sees him playing with knives. He throws them in the air leisurely, catches them by the handle, and never misses the catch. He flicks them from side to side, spins and whirls the blades in motions she can't even see because they're so swift.

It's pure magic. And they're not dull training knives; they're sharp as a razor, vicious, tactical – but that doesn't make them ugly. They're quite stunning, and she's caught staring more than once.

His movements are not what she'd exactly call precise and fluid. They're urgent, antsy, made to relieve stress of some sort. He's stimming with the knives. Alleviating pain or frustration. The rest of his body is still; only the ice-blue eyes flicker on the blade as he focuses all his attention on the dance. Sometimes he just stares at them, turns them around as if checking the edge, as if it wasn't evident that they're deadly and sharp. That's how she knows he takes good care of the things he loves.

He's fascinated by them, just like she is. And it's not just the knives; she's fascinated by him.

Others cast side eyes, nervous looks at him. Even some of his fellow operators look at the man like he's a lunatic. And perhaps he is, but she can't help it.

She's mesmerized.

It all changes when she accidentally walks into a meeting room while there is a briefing going on. Apparently, no one considers her a threat or a potential spy because she is summoned in before she rushes to close the door, and so she goes on about her day while the soldiers are already wrapping things up.

The hooded giant is there too, leaning back in a chair too small for him, this time playing with a butterfly knife. It's the smallest, daintiest thing she has yet seen in those hands. He always has gloves on, but that doesn't make the flashy flipping look any less dangerous.

She starts by dusting the side tables so she is not in the way. This time, she vehemently does not want to be seen. Save perhaps by the knife maniac.

The man even helps her with cleaning: he picks up some of the objects he can reach so she can wipe the surface more easily. It makes her cheeks grow hot, but she cannot bring herself to thank him. She doesn't dare to make a single sound while there is a meeting going on and their captain is still speaking, but she gives her thanks through her eyes and her smile, and the man looks at her like she's some kind of saintly sight.

The look in those blue eyes is starstruck. Almost… obsessive.

It should send ice to her stomach. But it doesn't.

He continues showing off with the knife as she moves to the other side of the room. He does it to mess with her head or entertain her, delight her, perhaps - the man already knows she’s intrigued by his vast collection of blades.

It's a bit creepy. The man as a whole is a bit creepy, but she only feels a rush, a high that turns her monotonous work day into a thrill.

"König. Would you mind?"

The sound of the flicking blade stops, and she is possibly the only one in this room who misses the noise.

"Entschuldigung."

He speaks, and the voice sends ripples across her scalp. It's twisted and amused, as if the man gets off on annoying the shit out of his workmates.

"English, please..."

"My apologies."

The blade is tucked somewhere in his pocket and the man named König leans forward on the table. Slightly hunched over like that, he looks even more intimidating than before. The playfulness is gone, and he looks fiercely professional. More shivers are sent down her spine.

König…

König is the reason she still keeps working in this odd little compound, the base of some special operations unit that requires an insane amount of security checks and secret contracts and confidentiality agreements just so she can clean the floors from their soddy footprints.

König is the reason she starts to put on some mascara in the morning, tie her hair in a high ponytail, or braid it in two little braids so she would appear cuter if she happens to pass him by in the hallway. He's the reason she opens not one but two buttons of her blouse before she starts the day. He's also the reason her underwear is soaked in the middle of a boring shift.

He appears in her break room to borrow coffee. And not once, but twice during the same week.

"You're running low again?"

"Eh… Ja."

He's shit at lying, though. She is relatively sure by now that he's here only because he wants to see her.

"I'll bring it back. I mean–I'll buy you some."

He seems a bit shy, like her, and combined with the fact that he still chooses to seek her out already gives her sleepless nights. It makes her far more confident than she has ever been with people.

His accent, his voice, are pure fire. She feels sinful for thinking about how he would behave in the bedroom, how he would talk – after all, it already sounds like he's breathless and strained, already sounds like he's working her open with whatever monster is hidden in those pants a bit too small for him. He walks with a wide lounge, and she just knows it's because he is so big down there.

"You do that," she gives him a particularly flirty smile and revels in how it makes him even more distraught. It's quite fascinating how the same man can exude barely repressed bloodlust one moment and stupefied silence the next.

He returns the very next day to bring her a package of coffee. The same brand he borrowed twice already is set on the table in front of her with tense shoulders. She has seen the man relaxed only when he’s achieved that alluring flow state with his knives.

"Hier."

"Why thank you."

He simply stands there, switches weight from one foot to the other, and shrugs.

"I'll be going then."

But he doesn’t leave. Not right away. He watches her with that icy, burning stare, and she cocks her head.

“Bye,” she chimes with a soft smile – the guy is simply too cute. His restless twitching stops; he freezes where he stands, blinks – and then turns and walks out the door like a robot.

. . . . .

She's not supposed to be here. Or, she is, but he's not.

No one’s supposed to be here when there's the sign on the door. The men's showers are supposed to be cleared once a week for good scrubbing, and she only has 30 minutes to do that. It's once a week, less than an hour, there's a sign, and still, some jerk has to walk right through it.

No one sees a cleaning lady.

No one appears to even care about the fucking sign.

But then she sees who exactly has disrespected her humble position. It's a shock to see that familiar black hood with two eye holes on it thrown on the bench. Next to that, the khaki-colored cargo pants, a black shirt, and those gloves, all in a heap – this guy is not the most orderly, perhaps.

And she takes a fucking peek inside the showers because the door is, for some unfathomable reason, transparent, see-through glass.

The first thing she sees is muscle. Just wet, powerful cords of muscle slapped on the tallest man she has ever seen or would probably ever see.

He's a vision: godly, almost. Then she notices what he's doing.

Of course he has to be fucking fapping on top of everything.

Her throat is dry and her hands are numb as she watches how he leans on the tiles with one hand and works himself with the other. The body hair on the guy is so pale that he basically looks neatly shaved, save for the short hair on the top of his head – the man's nothing but sleek, dripping muscle through and through.

He sounds weak when he's masturbating; the noise that echoes in the showers consists mainly of frail, high-pitched grunts.

She's wet in no time, and it doesn't help that he looks frantic, almost violent, while jerking off. It's a sloppy frenzy, and the sounds of wet, angry slapping make her heart beat so fast that the rush of blood in her ears nearly drowns the noise.

The man has big hands, but his cock still looks massive inside one. She knows she will copy-paste the image of that long cock, slick with water and soap, in her mind over and over again while releasing some tension herself. Of course it's big because he's big, but the length of it is simply outrageous – she cannot comprehend how he can fit himself in his pants, even when soft.

His whole upper body tenses abruptly, like a huge cord of cable; he throws his head back, his hips jerk forward and he goes catatonic – the cum shot that follows would shoot a meter away if it wasn't stopped by the wall. The spurts of his load are equally as fierce as the fap, and she feels faint.

And why the fuck is she even standing here in the first place?

And then he…

He drops his head, turns a little to the side, like he’s known she has been here the whole time.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck-

She can only see his eyes from behind the arm still leaning on the wall. That heated glare is not furious, but nor is it benevolent: it's simply pure, manic lust.

She turns and rushes from the locker room like she has just seen a monster.

. . . . .

"Hey."

If he's here for coffee or for her, she doesn't know. Or, perhaps she does, but she's also so unbelievably ashamed and embarrassed that perhaps it's no surprise that he seeks her out in the break room since she has avoided him everywhere else for two days.

"Hi."

Her weak voice is followed by silence, and she doesn't turn, even when she knows he's still behind her. Something in the air, some part of atavistic instinct tells her he's standing right behind her.

"You here for more coffee?"

He still doesn't say anything, and she begins to freak out.

"König… I'm–God, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have–"

"Did you like what you saw?"

Her heart shoots up her throat, and her stomach churns, almost starts to eat itself from the pure terror. But it's nothing compared to what he says next.

"I was thinking of you," the calm voice reaches her ears like a tall wave, making her even more woozy than she was in the men's showers.

"I'm– sorry, what?"

"Your mouth… Breasts. If you're tight."

She finally turns, doesn't even try to conceal her horror tinged with incomprehensible, strange lust.

"Jesus…"

The ice between them is broken, but at what cost – and the anxiety she had mistaken for cuteness reveals something psychotic underneath. He still looks at her with the same stare, even when she tries to make it clear that this approach makes her want to vomit. He doesn't move, only towers over her like a hulking shade, and she darts from the break room, completely soaked and on the verge of tears.

. . . . .

There's a knock on her door the next morning, so early that she wonders who the hell could be up at this hour other than staff. It's like… five-thirty. She's so sleepy that she doesn't quite think it through as she throws only a t-shirt on before strolling to the door.

What the f-

König shoves the flowers almost in her face as she opens the door, and she has to yank her head back. All the sleep is gone in an instant, and she curses in her mind that she's standing here in only a tight t-shirt and a black pair of panties.

"I'm sorry. Please, accept my apology," he says like a poorly rehearsed actor while watching her thighs and what's between them. Her nipples shoot up, and not from cold.

"Uh… sure," she tries to sound neutral while accepting the flowers, if not his apology. He takes a step back after making sure she has truly taken the gift, and she instinctively lowers the bouquet down to shield herself from his searing gaze. She knows she's a hypocrite, having masturbated at the memory of him last night. Twice.

He has his hood on, and wears the eternal black shirt, padded gloves and some cargo pants, but there’s also an overload of gear on him. Pouches and pads and wires and ammo - she even catches a grenade or two. There’s a gun strapped to his thigh, and the shoulder pads make his already broad shoulders look even more wide. He looks so… tactical, so in his element that her instincts tell her it wouldn’t do shit to slam the door in his face and retreat back to the safety of her room. This soldier would just barge through the plywood.

And where did this guy get flowers at this hour of the day? No florist can possibly be open. Then she notices they're not exactly the kind of flowers she has seen at a shop.

Has he picked them from outside…?

"I thought you liked me."

His explanation makes her heart melt a little. He's so straightforward, so utterly without any charades or roles, that it makes her feel like she's the one who has disrespected him with her games. After all, she has done nothing but flirted 24/7 with the poor man for the last week. Of course he only thought she was interested.

"I do. I do like you."

His eyes light up with uncontained hunger. "Can I come in?"

Nope. Big mistake.

"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Ok. I'll be going then."

He turns on his heels and is ready to go like nothing ever happened.

“Wha-… König, please, wait.”

He halts on command, turns back, looks at her solemnly. The only thing that gives his confusion away are his eyes, which flicker from her puzzled stare to her mouth, occasionally to the bouquet covering her nether areas.

"Could we just be friends?" She offers him rather desperately.

He merely shrugs.

"Never had any friends."

For some reason, this guy has already started to live rent-free inside her head. She simply can't get him out. And she's intrigued, even when the sanest option would be to stay away from a creepy lunatic like him.

"I can be your friend."

Fuck, what did I just say, what the fuck did I just–

"Sure. Why not," he says immediately. "You just want to be friends?"

She resists the urge to facepalm right then and there in front of him. The guy is not only socially awkward: he's in a state of denial.

Some of his friends – or at least, teammates – pass them by. Kyle, if she remembers correctly, and a Scottish man they call Soap. They both smile at her kindly. It's the first time these men have ever paid her any attention; actually, this is probably the only occasion anyone pays attention to König either. They are both suddenly visible.

"Hey König, don't go harassing our cleaning lady. We got a plane to catch."

König stares somewhere behind her as Soap speaks. His eyes are covered with glass, and she knows that look all too well. The tallest man in the building is dissociating while the two soldiers march by behind him with raised eyebrows and pursed lips: a mocking gesture only she can see.

She watches the scene with an odd pity. It appears they step into existence only when they're together – an unfamiliar setting and an odd couple, the object of ridicule for people who probably claim themselves to be normal.

"I think it would be best, yes," she whispers when the hall is quiet again. She has to start her day soon, and he has a plane to catch - no one else is awake except one hard-working woman and a few operators about to leave on an early mission. She feels the strangest sorrow as she realizes that he wanted to drop by with some flowers and his apology before leaving some place he might never return.

The man gives her a last once-over before taking his leave. He nods slowly, never breaking their gaze: an odd, gentlemanly move.

"Just friends, then."

. . . . .

It is the hottest day yet, and the guy walks around with his black hood even then.

Her new friend.

She's outside, trying to catch some fresh air and sunlight after spending another 8 hours inside a buzzing facility, and somehow, some way, the tall enigma of a man always finds her.

He angles his walk towards her as if he only happened to pass by at the same time she was lounging against the wall and looking at clouds drifting in the sky. In truth, she has an odd, yawning suspicion that she is being stalked nowadays. One of her underwear has gone missing, and she's wretched because her first thought upon finding it gone was the solid assumption that he had stolen them. Which further meant that the man had broken into her room.

But there's also flowers. Every morning when she opens her door, there's a single flower awaiting her. Sometimes, two or three, and not from a store, but from outside, from nature.

He's courting her, and she feels stupidly like a little princess because of those homely yet thoughtful gifts. She doesn't throw them away: they gather on her table, on her window sill, in a little water glass on her bedside table.

She's far too kind, that's what people always say, but she's also neck-deep into this goddamn creep at this point to do anything about it. The building is full of muscled men, men who are decent, and she chooses this… gift-bearing perv to crush on. In her judgment system, she's basically asking for it at this point.

"How are you?"

His accent lingers in the air between them, and she can't help it: it always brings a rush of heat on her cheeks and a rush of wetness down below when she hears him speak.

"I'm good. Just… good. How about you?"

"Sehr gut."

Perhaps the underwear has simply gone missing while washing laundry: it's not unusual when at least 20 people share one washing machine.

And they're only friends. Friends don't steal each other's underwear. Friends ask how they have been, how their day's gone.

"You look nice."

But the summer sun pales in comparison with the heat of that stare. Friends might compliment each other, but they don't look at each other like that.

She feels grungy enough while cleaning, not to mention in the bland, saggy clothes she has to wear every morning, so it can't be a surprise that she likes to put on an effort after the day is done. The citrus-yellow dress she has this afternoon catches his attention like she's a whole circus in town.

"You always look like an angel," he elaborates further, and she has to prevent herself from taking support from the wall upon hearing his compliment.

"Oh.. Thanks," she smiles, and he answers it: the faint creases around narrowing eyes are enough proof of that. "It's so hot… Do you ever take the hood off?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you take it off before bed?"

Oh god.

That sounded weird. She meant to ask if he took it off before sleeping.

Well, 'before bed', 'before sleeping'… What's the difference, really?

Still, he reads into it like a hawk for a seemingly socially graceless case.

"Depends if I'm alone or not," he says. Definitely thinks she's flirting with him again. Talk about sending mixed messages…

Friends, friends. We're just friends.

"Where are you from, by the way? Are you German?"

"No. Austrian."

"Oh. It must be beautiful there at this time of year."

"It is. I would still trade all of Austria for you," he says without any clumsiness, even though the pickup line is awful, one of the worst she has heard – and god, still, those big hands, that fire and ice stare makes her feel high as a kite. The image of him plowing her with the same pace he fucked his hand won't leave her alone.

"König… Just friends," she warns while feeling how another pair of panties is already ruined. She's so wet it's not even funny anymore; it makes her annoyed.

"Ok."

He says ok, but she knows he won't yield. She’s been far too kind for far too long and won't be losing this guy's interest anytime soon.

"How's work?" She tries to patiently show him how to be fricking friends, even if one party is constantly undressing the other with their eyes. As if she's not doing the same…

"You really want to know?"

"Sure."

"Had to scrub intestines from my shoes all night," he says casually. She can only blink and watch how completely distanced and indifferent he seems about something so sick.

"Everything's a mess when you use a knife," he explains further.

"Uh... I'm sure it is."

"Do you regret that you asked?"

"No. Well, perhaps a little."

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks proud; only seems pleased with himself for succeeding in scaring her even more.

"That's why I scrub guts and you scrub floors."

"I guess so," she agrees to his ever-authentic way of saying things how they are. He's a soldier: she can’t change that fact no matter how he or she puts it. Decent guys did the exact same things he did; they just didn't go around telling shy girls about the gory details of their work.

"Do you like knives?"

Nor did they ask things like this. They would ask if she wanted to go see a movie or have a lovely dinner that would end in a kiss and an exchange of phone numbers.

"Um. Yes, I think they're beautiful."

Her response causes a short, deafening silence, a few blinks. The wind catches his mask, but it never rises: she notices he's not only undressing her body, but also her soul with those eyes. Patient, like he knows all her secrets and loves them already.

"What would it take to be more than friends?"

His sudden change of subject is almost as shocking as the devil-may-care account of his work. She is feeling unusually wild; the warm weather and the yellow hues covering the distant horizons make her want to lie down on the grass and pull him on top of her. She thinks of him sliding up the fabric of her cutesy dress, thinks of him opening his pants to get that huge cock out and force it inside.

"Well… You could… Ask me out, for starters?"

"What if you come to my room and I'll show you something," he offers instantly.

As nice and naive as she may be, she's sure the only thing he wants to show her is his cock. Which she has already seen, technically speaking. Which she would like to see again, heaven forbid.

She is slightly breathless and wonders if the heat on her cheeks is visible, if her lips are a bit fuller than usual from her thoughts. Perhaps that's why she resorts to a counteroffer as if she's bargaining here. As if she can't say no.

"Uh.. How about you come and pick me up for dinner this eve–"

"Ok."

He nods with full-blown promise in his eyes and leaves right away, a little too content, and she realizes she has made the worst mistake of her entire life. She will never get a man of his size out of her room if she lets him in and things go awry.

In a hurried decision, she decides she will simply leave him blue-balled at the door. She simply won't go to dinner; she certainly won't let him in. She doesn't have to, even if and when she has to watch him mope for the rest of the year.

She will tell him they're not friends, they're nothing anymore, and that's just it.

She goes, determined and her mind set, to shower, only to notice that she's more soaked than the pool of soap water gathering at her feet. Her body simply betrays her at every turn. Perhaps she should masturbate, just in case, so she won't be weak-willed when he arrives at her door this evening. Yes, that's a brilliant idea, one of the rare good ones she’s had these past few days.

“Jesus–"

By the time she enters her room, wet and throbbing, he's already there.

"How did you get in?"

He shrugs his shoulders like he always does.

"You asked me to visit you."

He doesn't even answer her question about him breaking into her fucking room. He's standing right next to her dresser and a bra she had thrown on one of the open drawers, and she knows right then and there that he's the panty thief.

"Yeah, but… I thought you'd knock or something."

"Sorry."

If you shrug I swear I’m going to…

"Where do you wish to go?"

He's standing there like a contrapposto statue, narrow hips deliciously tilted and with an obvious erection in his pants. He doesn't seem to feel ashamed about it, and it makes her even more wet.

She has a murderous giant in her room, a killer who's visibly turned on by the sight of her underwear, perhaps the lingering scent of her perfume, too… and he's asking where she wishes to go eat tonight so he might have a chance to bang her afterward.

"Do you like Chinese?"

He shrugs as an answer, and she sighs.

"I need to change. Could you turn around?"

The eyes behind the hood regard her with curiosity, but the man does as he is bid. She takes out a floral dress and a more comfortable bra and walks further away to the bed to change. König faces the wall while she gets undressed with trembling hands. She’s sure the man will turn around, march to her, and simply have his way with her before she gets the dress on. Some sick part of her even yearns for it.

But he doesn't. Instead, his head tilts a little to the side, and his hand rises to gently brush the lace of her bra while she's in the most vulnerable position she's ever been with this man. It's an almost equal violation of her privacy as it would've been to turn, but her tongue is tied. And she only now notices he's not wearing gloves.

König is caressing her underwear with no fabric whatsoever between his skin and her chastity, and it makes her breath grow heavy like they're living in the 18th century.

"All set," she says, voice tight, and he lowers his hand and turns as if he has done nothing wrong.

The evening, however, goes far better than she had hoped. Or feared.

He buys them dinner, drinks one beer. They even have a perfectly healthy, civil conversation. She helps herself to a bit of wine to calm her nerves, and they discuss what their dreams used to be before they landed the jobs they currently have.

He reveals he wanted to be a sniper and that he prefers to work alone, but to her question on what went wrong with all that, he merely answers he was 'too clumsy.'

What the man is really trying to say is that he's simply too big. Detectable, loud, and tall.

He hints at being bullied at school and in the army, and she feels even more sorry for him, curses in her mind – if the guy's tactic is to get a girl by being a hot loner with a tragic tale of woe, it sure is working for him.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asks when there's still tension between them, tension that should have melted by now.

"A bit, yeah."

"Is it because of the hood?"

His voice is softer, and she realizes that he's really trying: trying to tone down whatever beast rages inside him, trying his all to be normal instead of some tormented madman.

"No, not exactly," she confesses and feels a sting in her heart when he looks defeated. She almost feels like a bully, too. She wants to take the guy in her arms and shush him to sleep so he would wake up less haunted. But that's not how this goes: she cannot fix him, and even if she could, she has no right to.

He takes her back to the base and stands at her door again. The halls have fallen silent, everyone's asleep at this hour, and her heart is still hammering in her chest.

"Are we still just friends?" He stares at her from the darkness of the hood, shoulders slightly hunched, trying to make himself appear smaller. Less intimidating.

"I…I guess so."

"You think I'm weird, don't you."

His next question is more of a statement. And all she wants to say is no, even if it's a lie. The guy is… not evil; it's just that he certainly isn't sane and sound, either.

"Um… I… Uh-"

"You're the one who watched me in the showers," he points out as if they're keeping score on who's more of a perv.

"Yeah. I guess I'm the weirdo here," she laughs nervously, then almost bites her tongue. He only cocks his head a little to the side and repeats his earlier question.

"Did you like what you saw?"

"Well… yes, ok? I did. Why else would I–"

"It's ok. I understand. I don't mind."

"Well, it was still rude of me to do that." She guides her gaze to the floor, then up at his polar stare that makes her want to swoon in the hopes that he will catch her. "Didn't you notice the sign on the door?"

"I did," he said, and the corners of his eyes slowly gather a few wrinkles. Smiling again.

She shakes her head slowly, scoldingly, and notices how that smile only deepens under the hood. Then his face – or what little can be seen of it – straightens.

"Am I harassing you?"

Wow. Well, at least the poor guy is trying to self-reflect. But something tells her there's more than some new-found awareness of his late behavior at work here.

There's bitterness... Exclusion.

Loneliness.

"No," she tries to comfort him. Another facepalm moment: she is basically telling a stalker she likes being stalked. That this sort of wacko shit was approved of. So this is what it has come to… Years of being invisible apparently did things like this to people.

"Or maybe a bit," she says as a spineless afterthought.

"Do you want me to stop?"

In all honesty, she is drunk on his attention. The obsessive behavior, the relentless wooing, romantic gestures accompanied by a stare that says he wants to plow her until she is a limp heap on a bed stained with tears and cum.

"König… Are you lonely?"

He shrugs, and she wants to grab him. Shake him.

"Are you?" He says with an unusually deep voice.

"...Yes."

Her voice is as fragile as can be, but the hall echoes her confession like it's a loud song. The eyes under the hood look at her softly, longingly: she hasn't even noticed how soft they can sometimes be.

"You don't have to be."

There's simply no use in denying it: she wants this guy to fuck her, no matter how creepy or weird he is.

She grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls him inside.

[dadsbongos]

how to (unintentionally) drive away a suitor

5.4 k words / warnings - misunderstandings, you're manipulative but in a marriage-seeker way, lame ass exposition dump at the beginning sorry

summary - you go to The Island in hopes of finding a suitor better than what your parents picked, you meet Laios. disaster ensues.

posting while bleaching my hair send hlep ~~~

When you were five, your father’s first hunting dog died. Matilda. A hound mix he praised as if she were his firstborn, and that would sound neglectful if she didn’t feel like your eldest sister. When she died, a true member of the family died. Your child heart exploding out of your little chest with the mosaic of grief ripping you this way and that. It was so ugly, you hadn’t expected to feel that way until your parents or a human sister croaked on you.

It’d also inspired you to do better for yourself than what destiny had in mind. As the youngest in a long line of children, you had little hope of a large inheritance from your well-off father. Instead, you would marry rich and smart and handsome.

Leading you, with a throbbing disinterest in the suitor picked by your parents, to set for The Island in the year 510.

Where you met a very strange man named Laios Touden.

Denial

Month 1 - your first proposition

“We should celebrate with drinks,” you skim a finger along the waistline of his cuirass, “Another dive with no deaths.”

“Oh, yeah,” Laios nods, grinning blandly at you, “You think I could rope Shuro into sticking around this time? He usually skips nights out unless Falin asks.”

“I was thinking something a little more private. Just you and me, maybe?”

“Sure,” suddenly his brows furrow, a serious ridge setting across his lips, “Is there something you need? I know rent in the western part of The Island is starting to go up, do you live there?”

“Laios, I- “ you cut yourself off before reminding him you two live on the same street because a sudden idea strikes you. He’s doing this on purpose. Of course, he is. He’s the type of guy that wants you to actually ask for it, “I mean, if you really want then I guess everyone coming isn’t so bad.”

But two can play at that game.

“Okay, great! I’ll let the party know,” he gives you a thumbs up and turns towards the rest of your group as they pack for the surface.

You watch him wrap an arm around Toshiro and beam at the withdrawn man. You deduce that he’s the type that likes to be chased. Which you feel is a little beneath you, but you’re willing to play a long game as long as he makes it worth your time.

Month 2 - the time you take him to dinner

“This place is so quiet,” Laios murmurs, both hands splayed across the table.

You study his fingers, thick and red at the joints -- you bet a gold wedding band would glitter nicely on his hand. Candle light flickers suddenly, a shadow sharpening across his face as he looks around. This snags your attention, you lean forward and curl both arms on the table, chest pressing into the well.

“Well, it’s nice, right?”

“I guess,” he avoids looking you in the face, instead focusing on your painted lips before flitting to the table, “I just feel like it's more for couples, right?”

This is it!

“Huh, you think so?”

“Mhm,” his eyes settle between your own, observing the curve from your forehead to your nose.

“I bet we make a pretty couple, then.”

“Oh,” he nods slowly, mulling over the suggestion, “Probably. I’d say we’re both decently attractive people.”

Is this it?

Just as you go to ask what exactly he means by that, your food is ready and Laios starts rambling about how hungry he was regardless of the awkward atmosphere. It makes no sense, but he’s the next village chief of his hometown so you let it pass.

Month 6 - the time you two take a walk

“Thanks for accompanying me.”

Laios waves off your gratitude, “It was nice to find out we live on the same street anyway.”

You bite your tongue from telling him that he should already know this in favor of boldly wrapping an arm around his. A rehearsed yelp splices your throat; practiced stumble rocking you askew. Immediately, you set to memorizing the feel of his beefy bicep around yours, wondering how his waist feels. His thighs. His neck and calves and cheeks.

“I saw a rat,” the lie slips easily, spare hand coming up to coyly cup your own cheek.

“Really?” he peeks over your head, “Where?”

“Laios, that’s not important!”

“I didn’t hear any squeaking, do you think it was trying to be quiet?”

“Laios!” you pinch his arm, apologetically rubbing over the tender skin when he whines, “I hate rats…”

“They’re just- “ your sudden furrowing brows and massive scowl halts the rest of his sentence, “Sorry. Are you scared of them?” before you can respond, he spins you towards his other side -- arms still linked tightly, “If you heard it over here, it’s probably best I stay on this side.”

“Aww,” you tilt your head against his shoulder, “That’s actually so sweet, Laios. Thank you.”

“Uh-huh,” you’re too blinded by the gesture to notice his intense stare scavenging along the dark ground, if you did then you probably would’ve realized he just wanted to see a rat.

Month 11 - the time you find his gourmet guide

“Is this why you started a party?”

“No,” his face flushes rogue from forehead to collarbones, eyes darting away from you. Hands twitching to rip the book from your own.

“You’re an awful liar,” you wave the stained, peeling green book -- careful to not rip any of his carefully placed tabs or note cards in the swaying, “Why hide this? Everyone already knows you’re chock full of monster trivia.”

Laios sighs quietly, reaching out for the book, and he seems genuinely surprised with what little fight you put up. He smooths one of the curling edges of the cover under his thumb, “This book hasn’t gotten the best reception before. It's easier to just avoid people seeing it.”

Somewhere in your chest, there’s a twinge and ache before you’re speaking again -- for once no plan or motive to your words, “That’s terrible, Laios. You should be able to show it off.”

“You think so?” he grins.

Technically comforting him will only advance your plan to wed, but strangely you’re finding that you just… want to. You don’t want him to filter himself to live, that sounds cruel.

“You can talk to me about it anytime,” you don’t find monsters so fascinating -- to you they’re no different from a common beast, what does it matter that they’re eaten by Laios? Despite your own indifference, you want nothing more than to indulge Laios, “I’d love to hear about how they taste.”

And you’re not sure where that desire comes from.

“I haven’t been able to eat one yet, but I’m hoping to. I can’t find time to traverse the first few floors by myself.”

You just know that it feels right to see him excited.

“You don’t have to go by yourself now, I can join. You’ll be able to go deeper that way, right?” you laugh at his flaming cheeks, “And what luck: I’m a support mage, you couldn’t ask for a better setup.”

“I’ll have to see when our next rest period is, that way we won’t be exhausted before going on our own.”

And when you’re in bed alone later that night, you justify to yourself that having a secret between one another will lay good foundation for future intimacy. You pretend that was on your mind the entire time you made the offer.

Year 2 - the time you invite him into your home

“I have lychees. It’d be a shame to let them go bad, you know?”

“What are lychee?” Laios glances from your neck to your room door.

“You’re kidding,” you twist the knob and swing it open with the weight of your body, thudding against the wall to allow Laios entry, “They’re fruits! Imports from the Eastern Archipelago, I would’ve thought you’d hear about them since you pester Toshiro about the area all the time…”

Laios’ head is on a full axis swivel to find anything unfamiliar, ready to taste all your excitement about the fruits, “No, never came up,” he watches you stride past him to a cabinet, “By the way, whose Toshiro?”

Quietly, you laugh to yourself, pulling down a rocky, pinkish ball. Laios is too busy thinking about the damage it’s looking to do to his bare hand to process the fact you never answered his question.

(you thought he was joking)

“Consider this a gift for walking me home again.”

“You asked,” he shrugs, watching as you squeeze around the fruit until it cracks in the middle, then peeling the shell away, “Besides, we live on the same street so it’s not out of my way.”

You hope he says that because he remembered, rather than having ‘discovered’ it for the fourth time. To stop yourself from asking clarification, you slice the pearly fruit in two, plucking the dark seed before handing both halves to Laios.

“I’ve heard some people just pop the whole thing in their mouth, but I’ve never tried it that way,” you confess, watching him roll the fruit from one cheek to the other before chomping down.

Laios’ eyes flutter shut, a muted moan following, “That’s sweet.”

“I know, right?”

“But I still get hints of citrus.”

“I know, right?!”

He points to the other lychee in your palm, “Do you have more, or…?”

You don’t.

“Have it,” you peel and deseed the one in your hand to press against his lips, “Say ‘ahh’!”

He smiles faintly at the cooing, popping his mouth open for you to slide the fruit past his teeth and onto his tongue. A soft kiss tickles your fingertips as he mutters, “Thanks.”

“Uh, yeah,” you pull back slowly, tangling your fingers behind your back and rocking onto the balls of your feet nervously, “Yeah, of course.”

You’ve never been nervous this way around a man before. You’ve felt fear and you’ve felt hatred and you’ve had crushes, but none of those have made your heart pound quite so hard.

It’ll be good to be attracted to your husband, you think, anybody can marry into power but it takes a real hunter to find power so handsome and polite.

Year 3 - the time you ask him to marry you

“We should get married,” you blurt, interrupting Laios as he ponders aloud the best way to safely boil a scorpion.

Laios darts up from his book, wide eyes unabashedly boring into your soul, “What?”

“You and me,” you’ve chased enough, now you’re ready for him to get serious -- you can’t live like this. Dangling just out of reach, only to be abruptly yanked at his whim. Your parents want to meet your fiance, the one you’ve abandoned home to find: the one you’re apparently certain is better than their choice for you. You need him to admit defeat before you go insane, “We should get married.”

“That’s what I thought you said, but I wasn’t sure,” he closes his beloved gourmet guide around a bookmark you crafted specially for him from braided yarn and beads. It had multiple tassels for slotting various spots through the guide simultaneously to more easily find sections he was currently occupied with rather than sort through tabs. He loves its practicality, and he loves it more when he thinks about how you made it with him in mind.

He thinks you’re nice. He thinks you’re charming. He likes spending time with you. You even already know about his monster obsession, and you’re on-board!

Which is basically the best he can get, right?

Dinners with his parents were silent, and the room’s temperature would sink to match their chilly demeanors.

Dinners with you would be warm, and the quiet moments would be comfortable.

“Sure,” he eventually answers, when he finds no protesting nausea bubbling in his gut he takes it as a good sign, “We can get married.”

Not the exact response you’d been hoping for. Though, you should’ve been more direct, Laios is stubbornly socially inept after all.

You’ll mark it as progress anyway, overjoyed Laios is baseline willing. Which is enough for you.

Definitely enough.

Definitely. Just. Enough.

Anger

Upon arrival to the dungeon three years ago, you found it difficult to acclimate to the fact that death was not the end down here. When you saw your first corpse on the second level, you were nigh inconsolable in the weary arms of Toshiro as he mumbled assurances in your ear.

Now, as a seasoned adventurer, you’re reasoning that coldblooded murder isn’t immoral in the dungeon.

(of course, it is, and also of course, you won’t murder anybody. but- )

You rather like the image of the woman flirting with Laios exploding

Honestly the longer he goes without refusing her, the more you like the image of him exploding too.

“Laios is an idiot,” Toshiro again is the one to comfort you, “It’s best not to watch.”

You’re sure he’s right. You’re also sure you want to keep watching -- which will entirely ruin your mood for the crawl ahead of your party. This is only your first day, on the first level, during the first meal before you all officially set off. And Laios is explaining to a strange, yet beautiful, woman the way a slime can seep out overhead and suffocate her to death. She isn’t even appreciating the knowledge, she’s just staring at his stupid pink lips.

“Once she hears what he’s saying, she’ll lose all interest,” Toshiro adds, then continuing as your glare fails to subside, “It isn’t like you two are actually married. She probably thinks he’s single.”

“He is single,” Chilchuck buds in, hands locked behind his head, “Inter-party relationships are bad news, you know? I’ve seen lots of people fall apart because of jealousy and cheating,” he shoots daggers at Toshiro briefly, “Pining is just the first step to an all out collapse.”

You gasp at the accusation. You are not pining!

“I don’t even like him that way. We should just get married for the land and wealth advantages!”

You entertain his monster fantasies for the money, you feed him lychees for the status, and you’re fiending to rip that woman away for the property expansion. That’s all! His being handsome is just a bonus, not a factor. His soft heart is a neat detail, not something you dream about holding.

Chilchuck doesn’t believe you. And you don’t think you believe yourself at this point either.

Depression

In the wake of Chilchuck’s ominous warning: you’ve been avoiding Laios. You’ve been avoiding most of your party, actually. First to lay and last to rise from your bedroll to most effectively close yourself off from nipping at Laios again.

He hadn’t even managed the nerve to ask what had you so perturbed following his conversation with the floozy on the first floor. He just strolls along, normal as he could hope to be while you languish in the back of the party with Toshiro. You wonder if Laios notices you’re not at his side, you wonder what precisely is going through his head. Did he notice she was flirting? Did he care? Is he still keen on marrying you?

Was he ever?

Toshiro catches the sudden exasperated huff you let out, you rub at your aching eyes. While he detests Laios’ clueless and overly familiar nature, he does feel grateful to work with you. He’d consider it a massive shame if you were to drop from the party because of emotional duress.

“Read any good books lately?”

Your hands lower, eyes blinking sluggishly until you’re staring at him with full inquisition, “What…?”

Maintaining a forward stare, Toshiro reaffirms his resolve, “Humor me.”

“Uh, well…” you comb through your brain for any answer other than the honest one, exhaustion and melancholy blurring your lying ability, “Just one.”

Eager to strengthen your bond and hopefully secure your stay in the party when this Laios fiasco fully explodes, Toshiro smiles softly at you, “Tell me about it.”

“It’s, well, old. Really old. A little gourmet guide…” you pout, “Laios and I read it together.”

“Oh,” Toshiro clears his throat, “Sorry.”

Bargaining

Laios could not seem to care less as the handsome dwarf perched at your side pays you yet another compliment. A shred of you feels terrible, terrible pity for the man as every other second your attention sears across the packed tavern to your party. To the blondie still in his armor; the blondie not even looking your way.

“Another drink, then?”

“Hm?” you beat ungracefully, forgetting you were meant to be charming the man.

“Would you like another drink?” he gestures to the barrels behind the bar, “On my coin, of course,” his tone falters, head shifting to follow yours, “I get the idea you need to forget this night.”

“Oh, I- no, it’s nothing…” you risk another peek at Laios, finding him somehow more disinterested in you than before -- thoroughly enjoying a one-sided conversation with Toshiro, “I’m not…”

“Better ways to get your mister’s attention than flirting.”

“Oh,” you’re embarrassed to be figured out like this, “I’m sorry. Really, I can’t- God- I’m sorry.”

“He’s lookin’ this way.”

Chancing it, you confirm that Laios is now looking at the both of you. His amber eyes flit from your face to the man beside you, to the floor. He returns all focus to Toshiro.

“Wow.”

From pitier to pitied at breakneck speed is more jarring than Laios’ carelessness.

“He said he wanted to marry me,” you reason.

“Did he now?” the dwarf so obviously disbelieves you, you’re sick just hearing his voice.

“Yeah!”

The dwarf nods slowly, a sarcastic lilt in his following words, “Seems like he meant it.”

“I’m not drinking anymore…” you slide off the bar stool, pausing when the man’s voice punches your gut once more.

“You should find someone more attentive to you.”

Racing away from the dwarf, you tug Laios away from your party’s table by his elbow. You’re glaring, you’re glaring so hard and so viciously that it genuinely startles him.

“Are you okay?” his neck cranes to gaze upon the dwarf, “You were talking to that guy, right? Did he freak you out?”

“So you knew I was with him?” you scoff, “Don’t you care at all?”

Laios shrugs, he didn’t see flirting -- he has no idea what you’re talking about, and he doesn’t want to seem like a nightmare boss, so… “Not really, I guess.”

“Are you serious?!”

“It’s not a crime for you to unwind at a bar. Besides, it isn’t like we belong to each other or something.”

You turn suddenly, back completely to him before charging out of the bar -- Laios chases, disliking how this conversation is slated to end. He slams into you at the edge of the street, and when he tries balancing you by the shoulders you knock his hands away.

“I thought- “ you circle back to stare at his face, “I thought we were… I was always on top of you, and we- I said- you said we should get married.”

Laios squirms with humiliation, then irritation, “Well, you said it weird. Marcille says that stuff to Falin all the time. Why didn’t you just ask to be together?”

“I did!”

“Did you?”

“All the time…”

Acceptance

Laios squirms with humiliation, then irritation, “Well, you said it weird. Marcille says that stuff to Falin all the time. Why didn’t you just ask to be together?”

“I did!”

“Did you?”

“All the time…”

“I never knew,” he blinks at you, and the most dreadful thing is you know he’s not bluffing. Laios is a terrible liar, you’ve prided yourself on plucking his fibs apart in the past, but this is not one of those times.

“You didn’t notice?” you’re lightheaded at his nonchalance, arms coiling around your waist as if to belt your insides right where they are, “You seriously didn’t notice?”

“No,” Laios’ pretty lips tear in a frown, “Should I have?”

He means it literally: are you terribly sad or can we start all over again?

You assume he’s being himself, oblivious and avoidant and so, so, so annoying.

“I’m…” you stumble back, face so hot you’re seconds away from blacking out with terror. Stretching out to steady you, Laios continues to play the kind leader, and it only makes your dinner lurch up your throat. Instinctually, you clasp a hand over your mouth, shaking your head and taking a step back toward the bustling dirt path, “I’m going home.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to, we can- ”

You shush Laios, memories whacking you over the head every millisecond just to taunt how stupid you were. Indignity blinds you, eyes snapping shut, “I’m going home, Laios.”

Panicked, you stammer a goodbye before lugging yourself away. Laios watches you fade into silhouette, drowning under the clogging crowd by townsquare until not even your head is visible. His fists screw at his sides, knuckles burning white, his feet feel the phantom pummeling of a rush against the ground; urging him forward. That might scare you though, and you already seemed awfully upset, so Laios figures it better to let you sleep off tonight. The two of you can rekindle tomorrow.

Peeking over your shoulder, you spot no broad shoulders or sandy blonde hair looming over the rest of the townsfolk.

Call it melodramatic and frustrating, but you were hoping Laios would follow just to grab your hand and ask you to stay. Not that you should be surprised. More often than not recently, you’d felt a burden on the party. Perhaps Laios is content you’re removing yourself. Perhaps he’ll be relieved you’re no longer pestering him. Perhaps he’ll walk inside and out your feelings to the rest of the party for them to share a laugh over.

(you should know him better than that, but you’re not in your right mind: storming into your room, a teary-eyed mess, to throw your things into bags)

Laios feels a lithe hand dig nails into his arm, he squeals sharply at the sensation and rips back to see Marcille gaping up at him. She throws an arm out toward the dirt road, “What are you doing?!”

Falin gently pries the elf off from Laios before humming thoughtfully at her brother, “They seemed really distraught. What happened?”

“Where’d you two come from?” Laios twists toward the tavern door, “I didn’t hear you at all…”

Flustered at the questioning, Marcille scoffs and drags Laios inside toward their table, “This isn’t about us! Have you never read romance before?! That was terrible!”

“They were upset, they probably wanted space,” Laios reasons, slumping into his seat at the head of the table, “We’ll see them tomorrow, we’ll talk again.”

“What’d you do now?” Chilchuck lifts a bottle of wine to his lips and tosses it back in a way that makes Toshiro cringe.

Namari quirks a brow at the man, waiting until he’s finished gulping to ask, “I thought you hated personal relationships and work?”

“I do, but if he just got rid of our other cleric then we should probably know about it.”

“I didn’t get rid of them!” Laios folds his arms with a sigh, “We’ll sort everything out tomorrow when we’re well-rested.”

Toshiro debates even opening his mouth. Laios is a one-man paradox, somehow well-meaning and belligerent in one breath -- overbearing and entirely hands-off. Laios’ spot in Toshiro’s heart is a complicated one: at this very moment the spot is incredibly tender. Down to that part of a night out where Toshiro empathizes with how clueless the bumpkin is, and it's that part of his brain that chastises him. After all, if it were him and Falin, he would want someone to say something.

“They’re going home,” Toshiro mumbles.

“Huh?” Laios cocks his head at the input, “I know, buddy, she told me she was heading home.”

“No,” be nice, be nice, be nice, be nice, “Home off The Island. No returning to the dungeon.”

“How’d you get all that?” Marcille leans onto the table with both elbows, nervously brushing long flaxen locks behind her ears.

“When we first met, it was something we talked about,” Toshiro confesses, “If they couldn’t marry on The Island, they’d have to take the suitor arranged by their parents back home. This rejection must be the final one.”

With Falin around, he decides to bite back his next statement: I’m not sure why Laios caught their eye in the first place, though.

“Pretty ditzy of you, party leader,” Chilchuck’s jab echoes into the bottle already resettled against his lips.

Laios stands, unsure of why except for the fact he cannot take the news lightly. His heart is racing in protest, one word jamming another in his hurry to speak, until he finally stutters out, “So?”

So, what should I do?

So, why wouldn’t you mention that?

So, why did he let you walk home alone?

“So…” Falin jumps to respond first, settling a massassing hand on Marcille’s shoulder to subdue the fuming woman, “If you want to smooth things over, you should probably go.”

Laios charges from the tavern despite Namari’s scolding that tonight was supposed to be on his tab.

Quickly coming to terms with the fact you’re long gone, Laios heads straight for the inn he and Falin live above. Certain once on that road, the memory of which hostel you’re renting out of will flood back to him.

. . .

You’re jamming bags puffy to the clasp when overzealous knocks threaten to rattle your door from its hinges. The only reason you don’t flee via window to shake the banging madman is because you recognize his voice: Laios, calling your name.

You sigh, forfeiting, “Come in, Laios!”

Despite your own disinterest, you want nothing more than to indulge Laios. It seems that this is something you’ll let devour you.

Flinging the door open and shut behind him, Laios stares at you -- slack jawed and pupils eating away irises. He stares into your face.

“What is it, Lai- “

“We can actually get married!” he blurts, stunning you into utter bewilderment, “You don’t have to take a suitor, you can marry me for real! I don’t care much for inheriting the village, but we can tell your parents I do.”

“Laios…”

“I don’t have much to throw for a wedding, though, so it’ll have to be something quieter than you probably imagined.”

“Laios.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t marry you,” you turn away from his confused pinch, now sweeping a finger along the scratched edge of your nightstand, “You don’t get it.”

“So make me get it,” he says so casually, you almost believe it’s really that easy.

“I can’t marry you because I don’t care about your dad,” he’s struggling to hold in the confused puppy-head-tilt of questioning, you can sense it, “I stopped throwing myself at you for stupid titles a while ago. For a long time I did it genuinely. Because I wanted to.”

“Because you liked me.”

“Now he gets it,” you huff bitterly.

“I can hear you,” Laios steps bravely to be beside you, “Do you still like me?”

You laugh because that’s all you can think to do. The sun just asked a daisy if it enjoys photosynthesis. A rhino wonders if the oxpecker is well fed. A black cat curls around an orange one in a window sill. Weeds grow so tangled up they need to be ripped as a knot. Two moth-gnawed coats hanging in the back of a rich man’s closet. Stars scorching at one another, colliding lightyears ahead. Squiggly stick figures holding hands in a defaced oil painting. Two eagles clawing at one another as they plummet from the sky.

“I don’t know if there’s a plane where I don’t.”

His morbid fascination and tactless enjoyment of life have you in a chokehold, one so fatally unshakable you’re certain he’ll someday kill you. Eventually, he’ll say something so thoughtlessly true to himself, with so much excitement it oozes from his pores, that you’ll have a heart attack then and there.

“So, why not stay?”

One day, he’ll lead you so deep into the dungeon that you cannot escape.

“You know what you’re implying, right?” your voice catches behind chattering teeth, a nervous whisper all you can manage, “I couldn’t, not if you’re just saying this out of guilt.”

“I know what I’m saying, I want you to stay so we can be together,” his face flushes, “I know how selfish it is, but I don’t want you to go home and marry someone else for your family. I want us to marry each other because I like you.”

His abrupt and daring confession has you petrified. Only your jaw is capable of movement, and the most it can do is dumbly drop before you gargle out a stunted, “Okay.”

“Okay!” he excitedly flails out both arms before crushing you against his cuirass, intensely aggressive and deeply endearing at once, “Do I have to meet your parents now?”

“Yes, that’s kind of the reason they let me stay here, you know? To see who I’d find on The Island instead of home.”

“I hate meeting adults… they’re so… weird.”

You choose not to point out that he, as well as everyone he associates with, is an adult.

“Just be yourself,” a sudden, maybe minorly manipulative, plan roars behind your eyes, “You’ll impress them so much, they’ll leave me alone forever!”

Hope

“And since they’re slimes, if you poke their eyes they stay perfectly calm! Which is another good way to tell them from the human they’re mimicking,” your dad made the mistake of asking Laios what he studied, misinterpreting your use of ‘fascinated by nature’ to mean ‘biology scholar’. Laios immediately began ranting and neither of your parents had reawakened from their shock yet, “Succubi can also duplicate people, but that’s usually when taking the most desired form their target has. Which is mainly sex appeal, so for me it’d probably be, well you know!” he affectionately squeezes your hand in view of your parents. You watch a little more of your dad’s soul crumble within his eyes, “The strangest is probably mirror monsters though, since they reflect what they see. They rely on flattery and illusions to swap with humans. I’d love to meet one so I could see their lure techniques in real time.”

“Wow, honey,” you grin, peeking at your parents across the table, “Can you circle back to how the shapeshifters make their copies? I just can’t wrap my head around why they’d use memories instead of the real things!”

“Oh, so it’s actually pretty simple!” Laios devolves into another ramble, eyes alight with excitement.

You’re just as glad to be feeding his need to talk about monsters as you are to be terrifying your parents.

“And you have a village in the North?” your father finally coughs out, holding a hand up to silence Laios.

“It’s my father’s,” Laios glances at you through his peripherals, visibly unsure how to carry out the conversation. To his credit, he’d pestered you about what exactly you wanted him to say about his father, and you only brushed it off as something you’d take care of.

“You’re the eldest, right?” your mom chews her thumbnail nervously, “A son at that!”

“Yes, yes, he’s a firstborn son,” Dad looks to you, “It was in the letter!”

“I am,” Laios’ foot taps beneath the table. Again glancing at you for further prompting.

“We’re not moving from The Island anytime soon,” you return Laios’ previous hand-squeeze, hoping to ease his nerves. You sit up straight, “We want to keep exploring the dungeon.”

“Yes, but after that?” Dad’s eyes are wet with concern and dread, “You’ll have to settle down eventually.”

“We’ll be fine, Dad. I’m fine living like this, I’ve had lots of fun -- I want to keep having fun. I’m excited to marry Laios, and he’s excited to marry me,” to add to your point, Laios nods enthusiastically, “I’m happy marrying for love, and I don’t care what it implies about me as your child.”

Meeting Laios was like striking gold. He’s different from anybody you grew up with, and you’re content to be with him as you continue to grow old.

“If you’re sure,” Mom lays a hand on your father’s back, as if to wrangle a dog before it bites, “Just visit more often, okay?” she catches how Laios perks up at the mention of more traveling, “And bring Laios, too. He’s very… interesting…”

You know. That’s why you courted (suffered) him for actual years.

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Whenever she wants (Hyunjin) ‗ ❍

Pairings : Hyunjin x f reader

Summary : A nice dinner with friends ends in a heated night for you and your husband.

Genre/warnings : Fluff plot with some (long ass) context, ends in smut. Unprotected sex (don't do it you fools), some mutual touching, f oral receiving, coming inside (with a purpose ;) but no breeding kink per sé) STRICTLY 18+

Word count : 5.4 k

A/n : This a sequel to my Baby Fever one shot, but it can also be read as a standalone, you decide <3. This one has been requested by a few people, so I hope both you and them enjoy it!

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

Part 3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a cold evening in the middle of winter season, end of November to be precise. One of Hyunjin's favorite football teams, which also happened to be one your best friend's husband favorite too, was playing tonight. You weren't exactly an expert in the matter, but according to your husband, it was gonna be a big night.

So, in the end, you all decided to go out to have dinner together. You've already been to that pub before, it was a quite small but very nice and cozy place owned by equally nice people.

You friend texted you a couple of hours before, informing you that a few other people would be joining you. She apologized in advance, expressing her slight annoyance, but she also mentioned how these people essentially took her husband's mention of his plans as an invitation.

You were in fact a little annoyed too, but responded quickly not to worry about it and that in any case the men would've been busy freaking out and being loud away from your table. You knew that neither Hyunjin or your friend's husband were gonna be the type to lose their shit for a sports match in public, so you didn't really care.

Around seven pm you and your husband were ready to go. You turned around to pick up your bag and saw him getting out of the room's bathroom, fixing the dark gray wool sweater's cuffs. His black hair were tied in a half up ponytail, shiny and soft looking. His look was completed with black fitting jeans, gray sneakers, and a silver metal watch that matched the buckle of his leather belt.

He must've felt your gaze on him, so he looked up and smiled sweetly while picking up his long coat from the hanger.

"Are you ready?" you ignored his question, jokingly crossing your arms to your chest, barely hiding a smirk.

"Don't you think that you look a little too good?" he huffed out a laugh, finishing to button up the dark coat. He then walked towards you, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

"Not as good as my wife. Shall we go?" he retorted. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the cheesy response, but nonetheless you still smiled.

"Yeah, sure, let's go"

-

In about fifteen minutes you reached the pub. The parking lot was quite busy, you noticed. Hyunjin rested his hand on your back as you walked towards the entrance, and slid it around your waist to pull you closer when you had to make your way in between the standing people and the tables.

You were looking around, trying to find your friends, until you heard your husband gasp dramatically and remove his hand gently from your back. You turned your head and saw a small baby, followed by his dad, running clumsily into the arms of the man who had now squatted down.

"Woah look who I found! If this isn't my favorite nephew!" you laughed at his funny tone. The boy fell into Hyunjin's arms, only for him to pick him up, walking back to his dad.

You followed suit, the baby smiled at you, babbling your name and reaching his hand out. You scrunched up your nose in a smile, grabbing the little hand gently and saying hi back.

"Thank you for catching this scoundrel. I almost lost him about three times in the span of twenty minutes." you both couldn't help but laugh at his 'tired dad' tone, and gave him a quick hug.

"He's a little runner, this one" you replied, eyeing your friend's slightly zoned out expression. You couldn't help but bite back an amused smile. She really wasn't enjoying whatever conversation the other 'extra' people at the table were having and it was quite obvious, to you at least.

"Heard we're having some extra company." your tone was ironic as you slightly nodded you head towards the table. There must've been around ten people in total, some couples among them too. Your friend's husband huffed, giving you an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, guys. I happened to mention our plans to one colleague and suddenly everyone and their damn partners decided to tag along for some reason." you put your hand on his arm for a second, reassuring him that you were kidding. You knew he was too polite anyway to even try to say something.

"It's alright. Let's just go- wait where's Hyune?" you both looked around and found him standing near a big aquarium, the almost two year old still in his arms. He was pointing at something, talking to the baby who seemed hypnotized with the bright lights and colors of the fish.

You couldn't help but smile and stare at them, forgetting everyone else for a second.

"Oh thank God, you're here. I swear if I have to listen to one more word about your fuckass boss-" your friend had joined you, making her presence quite clear. You blinked a couple of times, coming back to reality and turning to give her a hug.

"Of course it's the boss talk at an off duty dinner." you replied, ironically. She smiled in amusement, shaking her head. She must've noticed Hyunjin and her son, because her eyes softened and a 'aw' left her mouth.

"He really is perfect, isn't he?" she commented, clearly trying to mess with her husband that instantly pouted.

"What? But what about me? Your own husband?" he was obviously playing along but the interaction wasn't any less funny for that.

"My husband, just had to chase around a eighteen months old for three times in a row." she stressed the words "My husband" just like he did, making you laugh harder.

"But he's lucky both me and him love him very much." she concluded, kissing his cheek. Hyunjin had started to walk back to you, the child suddenly walking on his own legs again, holding his hand for support.

"But maybe he likes his uncle Hyunjin better, uh?" she said again, her voice high pitched and in baby talk mode. She bent down, opening her arms for her little boy that giggled and called out her 'mommy' adorably. Her husband comically sighed at his wife's teasing but quickly smiled, pinching gently his son's cheek.

Hyunjin was also smiling brightly at the sight as he joined your side, wrapping his arm around your waist, kissing your head softly. You resisted the urge to nuzzle his neck and instead patted his chest gently, following with "C'mon, let's go meet these colleagues. Or they'll think that we want to avoid them."

"I wish." Your friend jumped slightly to adjust the baby in her arms, rolling her eyes.

-

You ended up joining the rest of the people at the table, introducing yourselves to everyone. The dinner proceeded quite smoothly, with you and Hyunjin mostly keeping to yourselves.

Not for any particular reason, but you didn't know them, and besides, your friend wasn't totally wrong when she said that all they were talking about was work and topics related to it. You did get a few questions though, especially nosy ones.

"So, how long have you been together?" one of the women asked politely. She was probably one of the more quieter ones, and you could tell that she just wanted to make some small talk.

"We have known each other for some time, but we've been actually been together for three years, and now just a little less than six months married." you responded, a small smile playing on your lips. You saw Hyunjin look at you lovingly and mirroring the smile with the corner of your eye.

"Oh that's really sweet, you seem like such lovebirds." she chuckled, placing a hand on her own husband's wrist. He was distracted by talking with other people but still quickly acknowledged her with a small smile before going back to his conversation.

Before either of you could add anything, another female voice interjected. This other woman was also older, maybe in her forties or early fifties. She rested her chin on her joined hands, elbows on the table. Her gaze was ambiguous and, you noticed, quite fixed on Hyunjin.

"Aren't you a little young to settle down?" about three or four people, including both of your friends, suddenly seemed to start to pay attention to the conversation.

"I mean, if I were you ...I would've simply waited a little more. What if you suddenly felt attracted to someone else? The 'divorce-at-twenty-or so-year old' doesn't look that good on a resume" you felt Hyunjin slightly shift uncomfortably next to you, his arm currently extended behind you, resting on the chair's edge.

"A resume?" you inquired, tilting your head imperceptibly to the side and raising an eyebrow. She smirked for a second, probably noticing how you purposefully avoided commenting on the first part of the discourse. Your face screamed 'It's none of your fucking business' and everyone probably caught up on it.

Your husband certainly did, because his fingertips started to lightly move on your shoulder, in an effort to calm you down. He wouldn't have gotten involved in such a shitty discussion, but he also knew that you wouldn't turn your cheek so easily.

"A relationship resume. Or past experience pillowtalk after some fun, if you will." she shrugged. Your friend suddendly decided to send her husband to take a walk with their kid, fearing the conversation to become vulgar. Of course her, being her protective and polemic self, she wouldn't miss it.

He caught up quickly and took the boy by the hand, guiding him towards the big screen where some of his other colleagues and people had already gathered to watch the game start.

"That's quite the thought process." you replied, not exactly trying to hide the hint on venom in your tone. "But, regardless, I think that mature people wouldn't care about such details. Especially if they don't want anything to do with you after." the woman finally shifted her gaze to you. You could tell that she was a little taken aback, but didn't react much.

"You know, the fun." you added finally, taking a sip of your soft drink. Hyunjin sighed softly, munching on his lip to hide a smile.

Your friend casually put her hand over her mouth for a second, trying not to react too much. The other people listening also either looked away or cleared their throat awkwardly.

"Yeah, maybe." she gave up, also taking a sip from her alcholic drink. Maybe that's why she chose to embarrass the fuck out of herself, you thought.

"Either way, we are very happy right now, which is what matters at the end of the day. Other people can do whatever they want." your head snapped to look at Hyunjin, which you didn't expect would even respond. But you were glad that he felt the need to remark that, especially since that woman was clearly trying to get a reaction out of you, thinking maybe that he would've cowered out. But he didn't.

And with that, this weired conversation ended and suddenly, almost to break the icy vibe that fell over your table, you heard very loud cheering. You saw that a lot more people were getting up to get more drinks and gather closer to both the big screens at opposite ends of the large room to see the team play.

-

Hyunjin ended up getting dragged along with your friend's husband and their son, and with the rest of the crowd, so your friend took the chance to ask you to get a breath of fresh air. Which of course was code for 'let's get out of here and rant, please'. You followed her outside, throwing your jacket around your shoulders to shelter yourself from the cold.

"What was that fucking woman thinking? Imagine if it was in fact, a work dinner. I imagine what kind of 'resume' she would have, pft" she immediately blurted out, crossing her arms to tighten her own coat around herself.

You rolled your eyes, sighing deeply. You kind of wanted to tease her about having a dirty mouth as soon as her son wasn't around, but if you had to be honest, you still felt somewhat upset.

"I have no fucking idea. Did you see how shameless she was? Looking Hyunjin up and down like she wanted to fucking devour him." you spat out, looking around to distract yourself. You felt extremely irritated. And maybe a bit jealous, but mostly irritated at the fact that someone would have the audacity to just behave in such a manner with you present.

Like, you were standing beside him, he had his arm around you, and yet she still tried to make you look fucking dumb and being shameless with a married man. Not gonna lie, it's hard to think about someone who wouldn't be attracted to Hyunjin, but damn?

"I know, right?" you friend agreed, "But remember who actually does get to 'fucking devour him'." she added in a teasing tone, quoting your words with her fingers. Your head snapped back at her, a little taken aback from the sudden mood shift. But you wouldn't expect anything less than a whiplash from her, and you loved her for it.

"Yeah, right." you bit the inside of your cheek, miserably trying to hide your smirk. She laughed, nudging your shoulder with hers.

"And he made it pretty clear, too. What a sight it was." she teased you again, "You know what else was a sight? Him being so effortlessly attractive while playing with a kid. I still don't know how you don't have one yet, y/n." she dramatically sighed, making you chuckle.

"It's in our plans. At first we agreed to wait until after the wedding. Then, if you remember, the birth control gave me some issues, so the doctor recommended to take it easy for some time. Of course we both agreed and then just... I don't know, I mean the conversation hasn't come up again in the last four months I guess." she nodded, remembering you mentioning your visits to her.

"But you're okay now, right?" you nodded back, responding with a yes, and that it wasn't anything that couldn't be fixed.

"Well then, you better hurry up, or you'll have to have twins to catch up to me." your eyes widened, taking in the phrase for a couple of seconds.

"Shut the fuck up! Are you pregnant again!?" you exclaimed, probably a little too loudly, because a couple of people, that were also outside, gave you a look. Your friend laughed, shushing you. You brought both hands to your mouth, still genuinely shocked at the news.

"Yes, keep it down. I still haven't told him yet." she said, just a little shyly. You pulled her into a hug.

"Congratulations, oh my God? Also, why? You know he's gonna be so happy!" you reassured her, pulling back to look at her.

"And also, how long have you known? You gave birth less than two years ago" she laughed nervously, but still humorously.

"I found out just about a week ago. The test said around three weeks, so I'm not sure. I'll tell him and then book an appointment, I think." her tone was serious at first, but then she shrugged casually, failing to hide a guilty smile.

"Turns out that not even sleepless nights and an unhinged eighteen months baby can't cancel out the horniness." your mouth went agape and you slapped her arm jokingly.

"You rabbits! Oh my God!" you both laughed. Just at that moment, the pub's door opened, showing Hyunjin looking around for you. His eyes quickly found yours and he smiled sweetly, walking towards you.

"Aren't you cold?" he spoke softly, standing behind you and rubbing your arms gently. You turned your head, giving him a peck on the lips.

"It's fine. She keeps me on the edge." you joked. You friend snorted a laugh, clicking her tongue humorously.

"What's the topic?" he asked jokingly. You both shook your heads, laughing a little.

"Just girls talk. Is the game over yet?" she cheked her phone to see the hour. Hyunjin nodded. "Yeah, they were pretty quick, almost half an hour early. We won though, that's the important thing." he smiled proudly. You chuckled, extending your arm above your shoulder to cup his cheek with your hand.

"Of course it is, honey." your friend bit her lip to hide a smile and decided to leave you two be. She sighed and moved past you, towards the entrance.

"Well then, congratulations for the winning night. I'm gonna grab my two fanboys and go to bed, feeling kinda tired after all that shit talk." both you and Hyunjin couldn't help but laugh at that. You bid her goodnight, agreeing that you coming back inside to say bye to those people wasn't all that necessary, and then walked back to your car.

-

The car ride was pretty quiet, except some small talk about the dinner, but neither of you really mentioned that one wired conversation. You arrived and walked back inside hugging, and after that you each changed clothes and got comfortably in bed.

"You still smell damn good, by the way." you commented, hugging his torso while nuzzling his neck. He was halfway sat straight, his back against the bed frame.

He was holding you close with one arm while absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, something about social media posts of the game. The dim, warm toned light of the bedside lamp making you sleepy.

"Oh yea?" he smirked down at you, "Then that perfume money were well spent." you just hummed in agreement, closing your eyes and relaxing. He waited a couple of seconds before speaking again.

"By the way... I'm sorry for what happened tonight. If I knew that a wired person like that would've stirred up shit, I would've canceled the whole thing." you re-opened your eyes, looking up at him, your hand gently stroking his stomach.

"It's not your fault, Hyune. I actually wanted to thank you for speaking up. You didn't even had to acknowledge her, to be honest. I know how much you hate these situations." you respond, genuinely. He locked the phone, putting it on his bed side table, and turned on his side to look at you directly.

"I'm still sorry. Also, of course I had to. You're my wife, my partner, my love. I wouldn't let anybody have a word on it. Especially thirsty women old enough to be my mother." you hid your face in his shoulder, laughing. He chuckled, happy that he managed to make you smile.

"Can't really blame her, at the end of the day." you said, starting to leave featherlight kisses on his neck. He swallowed, making his adam's apple go up and down.

"What, mmh- what do you mean?" he stuttered, clearing his throat. At the same time, he started to slide his fingertips up and down your back. As a response, your kisses got messier. You gave the skin small kitten licks and light bites.

"Don't play coy, you know you're hot" you laughed faintly, starting to lift his shirt to move your kisses to the skin of his abs, stomach and slowly to his ribs. His breaths started to get deeper, and he even let out a small moan.

"What about it?" he responded, cocky. You smiled against his skin, deciding to descent again with your mouth, teasing him closer to the southern zone where you could feel he was getting hard.

"That it's reasonable to think why someone would want to fuck you into next week" he hummed, so deeply that you could feel the vibrations where your mouth met his body.

He then gently cupped you face, making you lean back so that he could latch his lips to yours in a deep kiss. He interrupted the kiss to talk and you lowkey whined at the loss, making him laugh lightly.

"Maybe. But then again, you know who actually gets to fuck me into next week?" he spoke lowly, making you shiver. He was waiting for a response, but you were already too dizzy on his kisses to notice.

His fingers gripped your face gently, making you look at him. His eyes, shiny and intense, looking into yours.

"Your wife" you whispered, turning your head slightly to take his thumb into your mouth, and started sucking on it. At that point he groaned, removing his hand from your face and switching positions so he was now hovering over you.

"Fucking right you do" he attacked your neck and collarbone, pulling your shirt down to expose more of your skin. You quickly pushed him back slightly, grabbing the hem of his shirt to take it off of him, and he did the same with you, leaving you completely bare since you weren't wearing a bra.

"I'm yours, and yours only" he said breathless but with such intensity that it elicited a moan from you. His mouth started to kiss, nip, suck and lick at one of your tits, while he grabbed the other one with just enough strength to get you even more lightheaded.

"Fuck- Hyunjin" you gasped when he grazed one of your nipples with his teeth, "And I'm yours" you managed to respond, your fingers tangled in between his dark locks, lightly pushing him onto your chest.

He suddenly detached from you, making you whine at the loss, and also at the sudden chilly air hitting the wet spots on your breasts, where his mouth was just seconds before. Hyunjin didn't waste time, removing both your tracksuit pants and underwear in one go, disposing of them on the ground next to the bed.

"Yes, my pretty wife" he kissed your hips and then up your legs messily, "Only mine"

"My beautiful love" he whispered. You could've melted on the spot at his words, if only the fact that he was now licking and biting the inside of your thighs wasn't making you mad with desire.

"Hyun- Hyunjin, please" you couldn't stop the desperate tone in your voice, and it amused him. He chuckled against the skin on your thigh, moving his right hand from your hip to your pussy.

You had closed your eyes in the meantime, so the sudden touch, even though featherlight, made you gasp and look down. His mouth was still leaving kisses on the upper inside part of your thigh, so close yet so far to the zone where you needed him the most.

"I liked how you put that woman in her place" his voice mixed with humor while his fingers had started to spread your wetness around, up and down your slit and then around your clit, which made you buck into him a little.

"What-" you were confused for a second, that awful person completely out of your mind already.

"You're really hot when you get mad, you know?" he kept going, his fingers kept on touching your pussy, until he teased your entrance with just two fingertips. Your hands gripped the sheets, your chest going up and down deeply.

"You have this habit... this cute thing where you go like this-" as he said it, he tilted his head to the side, looking up at you as he took a long lick throught your slit, from your entrance to your clit.

You moaned loudly, that single lick making your body physically twitch. The whole thing was becoming too much and you felt the corner of your eyes get wet with tears.

"Hyunjin, stop it and just get to work already" you blurted out, looking at him with such a serious frown that it made him chuckle again.

"Exactly what I mean" he responded, and after that really got to work. His whole mouth started to alternate open mouthed kisses and licks on your whole slit, but then mainly focused on your clit when two on his fingers easily entered you.

"Ah- yes, so good, Hyune" you mumbled, your mind fogged by the pleasure your husband was giving you. He hummed against you at the praise and started to move his hand faster, wet and lewd sounds proved just how absolutely drenched you were at that point.

After a couple of minutes he really started to suck harder on your clit while moving his fingers inside you in a come hither motion, and that was it for you. You came on his hand and mouth, your head thrown back in pleasure, eyes shut, breath heavy. He took all that you gave him, and then some more.

"Good girl" he mumbled after gently parting his lips from your pussy, still lightly touching you to allow you to come off your high slowly.

"My beautiful girl, so pretty" he positioned himself back up to your side, his clean hand coming up to move the few hairs that got stuck on your slightly sweat covered forehead.

"You did so well for me" he said again, kissing your head, and then completely pulling away from you to bring his still completely wet fingers to his mouth, sucking on them.

You looked at him, his eyes shiny from excitement, his forehead also lightly covered in sweat, his full lips wrapped around his own fingers. The same ones that he had used on you. He looked beautiful, so hot and erotic...a sight to behold. He was also looking down at you warmly, lovingly.

You didn't say anything and just reached out to gently remove his fingers from his mouth, and then kiss him. The kiss was slow, sensual and deep, a lot of tongue and licking, biting lips involved.

Your hand went down to reach for his pants, but he gently took your wrist to stop you.

"I'm okay, my love. You don't have to-" you interrupted him with a kiss, your hand sliding into his pants and then boxers. He moaned lowly in your mouth when you started to palm him and stroke his length.

"Take them off" you mumbled against his lips, and he nodded absentmindedly, using just one hand to get the job done, and just like that he was at your mercy.

You were about to slide down to his hips level to reciprocate the favor, but once again he cupped your cheek.

"If you want me to fuck you, I'm afraid that we'll have to have a raincheck on that, my love." he laughed faintly and a little embarrassed. You smiled at him softly, nodding.

"Aright then, but now it's my turn. Let me ride you, baby" you said sensually, eliciting a moan from him when you switched positions, and now he was laying down beneath you. You left a trail of wet kisses on his body but didn't waste time to reach his cock. It was perfect, in your opinion.

Smooth, on the longer side and just the perfect amount of girth that you could take while also feeling full. It's like it was made for you. He was made for you.

You completed each other in such perfect ways in everything, that you couldn't help to think that maybe this is what those romantic people refer to when they talk about 'soulmates'.

You spit on your hand, for good measure, since you were still more than enough wet and ready for him. You straddled him, your heat hovering barely over his hard cock.

You took him in your hand, slowly pumping a couple of times from base to tip. A couple of drops of pre cum swirled down your fingers and it was at that moment that you took a decision. You eyed him from under your lashes and saw that he was already so worked up that he had to keep his eyes shut and breathe deeply to not cum too fast.

So you didn't waste any more time and just positioned his cock at your entrance, sinking down on it slowly. His hips involuntarily bucked up, making his tip reach your deepest point. That chain of events made you both gasp loudly and then moan.

"Y/n, baby, I'm not gonna last long" he warned, breathless. You shushed him with a finger to his lips. You started to ride him slowly but steadily, making sure to covering his entire length in the process.

Hyunjin moaned softly, mouth agape and eyes half closed but still focused on you. His hands went to either sides of your waist and hips, then ass, to accompany your movements. You started to kiss him deeply while going a little faster, making sure to move your hips around.

It was making him go insane, so he just decided to catch you by surprise and sit up, your body flushed against him, his whole arms wrapped around you as he fucked up into you. Your arms instinctively wrapping around his broad shoulders, your fingertips gripping so hard to leave white dots on his tan skin.

"Fuck- y/n I'm so close baby-" he spoke, his mouth latched to your neck. You nodded, following his movements with your hips to encourage him.

"Wait- y/n, we didn't use a condom" he groaned "I gotta- fuck, I gotta pull out" he sounded desperate, so you reassured him again, making sure to let your intentions clear this time.

"It's okay, baby. I want you to come inside me." he slowed down his movements, looking you in the eyes in shock.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his genuine concern so sweet. You nodded, kissing him deeply again and speeding up you hips movements. Then you leaned to his ear, whispering "I want you to make me a mommy"

That phrase must've triggered something in him, because you suddenly found yourself on your back, again. Hyunjin over you, his cock still painfully hard inside you.

"That what you want, pretty girl? You want to be a mommy?" he teased slowly, in stark comparison to the deep strokes that he was giving you. You gasped, the rhythm leaving you breathless.

"I want to make you a daddy" you responded, your hands going up to cup his face and bring him closer to you to kiss him.

You gasped again, leaving his mouth and looking down. He had pressed one of his hands on the very low part of your belly, causing you such an overwhelming pleasure that you couldn't breathe.

"Then you're gonna be a good girl and take everything that I give you, right my beautiful wife?" his hips sped up, clearly searching for release. But of course he wouldn't come before you did, so his other hand went to work on your clit with fast strokes.

The mixture of his cock inside you, his hand on your clit and the other one pressing down on your lower belly was enough for you, and that's when you came. You saw fucking heaven, if you had to be honest.

"Oh my- fucking God, Hyunjin, oh yes, yes yes" you cried out, holding onto him for dear life. Your moans of pleasure and your pussy clenching so hard around him was his last drop, so not even after a couple of seconds he came too.

He came so hard that he had to lay on you for some time to calm down. You just held his head against your chest, caressing his hair. Both of you sticky and sweaty by now.

You relished in the feeling of his cum inside you, something that you haven't been feeling for months. Hyunjin slowly moved off you, and you both hissed when you lost contact, both still very raw and sensitive. He was panting, sitting back on his calves, admiring the mess that both of you made.

He then gently closed your legs, making you stay on your side, while he positioned himself behind you as the big spoon. He also threw the sheets on the both of you, to stay warm. A few minutes passed before any of you said anything.

"Why is it always like this between us?" he asked, a hint of humor in his voice. Your drowsiness was taking the lead on you, but you fought it off.

"Like what?" You replied, couldn't help but to yawn. He hugged you closer, his hand going to rest on your lower belly.

"Messy. Impulsive. Now that I think about it, our wedding day was the only organized day of our entire relationship." you both chuckle.

"It's okay. We're doing it out of love, so it's okay." you reassured him. He hummed in agreement.

"Look at us, not even parents yet and already setting bad examples for our kids." he continued, making you laugh and hide your face in his arm.

"We're going to do great." you concluded, a sweet smile on your face at the thought of your future with Hyunjin.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[jamneuromain]

Divorce with either Steve/Andy I'm feeling angsty.

Whether happy/sad ending is up to you :)

Hi bestie <3 I'm sorry it has taken more time than I thought but my drabble turns into a one-shot before I can even realize skjksjskjskjksj

hope you'll enjoy this <3

Lie, Lie, Lie

Steve Rogers x You (Mutant!Reader)

Warning: Swearing, Angst, Divorce, (also asshole-ish Avengers?)

W/C: 5.4 K

Summary: A small leak will sink a great ship. -- Benjamin Franklin

A/N: My first entry to the bingo challenge hosted by @the-slumberparty.

It starts with a minor, insignificant detail.

Just some static in the phone, really.

A snippet of sound that common people would interpret as bad signals, considering that Steve is phoning you from thousands of miles away, while you are using the landline.

For holy Mary’s sake, who the hell still uses landlines today?

Apparently, the academic conferences you attend do.

Steve notices the small static buzzing the call you are having, after which you grumble in frustration, “Stupid signals, can’t even function properly.”

He smiles, knowing that you can’t see the expression on his face. You are cute even when you are complaining.

You sigh deeply on the other end of the phone, your voice slightly distorted from the electronic, or wireless, transmission, “I miss you, Stevie. Can’t wait to come home.”

“It’ll only be two more days,” Steve reassures you with his soothing timbre, “I’ll be waiting for you at the airport, alright? First thing you’ll see after getting off that plane.”

“Okay.” You know he can hear you pouting, but you pout anyway, “Gotta have some sleep now. I’m going to the keynote tomorrow morning.”

“Take care of yourself.” Steve holding on to his phone, wincing again as the static buzzes again, but it appears only on his end, as you seem unaffected by it, “Take care of my favorite scientist and my favorite girl for me, okay?”

“I am your favorite girl. And you know I have my powers.” You try your best to stifle a large yawn, but Steve senses your tiredness right away.

“Sleep tight, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Steve blows a kiss, hoping that it would travel across oceans and lands via the phone, and reach your forehead.

“Night, Steve.”

“Good night, sweetheart.”

You are about to hang up when the static tortures his ear again.

You hang up.

Static isn’t a problem for most people, who, unlike Steve, don’t have super hearing and super memory.

Steve could think that the static is a minor interference, however, static that appears during phone calls are hardly inconsistent. And if he has learned a thing or two during the time that landlines are still fairly popular – 40s, by the way – is that static doesn’t go on and off, nor does it blur on different pronunciations since static should naturally have a pattern.

Since Stark phones issued by the friendly billionaire is certainly off the question, he suspects that someone might be tapping into your landline.

Something is off. His intuition is telling him. So, he called Tony and asked for a favor.

After some analysis that Steve couldn’t fully understand, Tony presses his index finger to his lips tightly, humming to himself.

“Anything?” Steve watched as Tony chugged down the fifth cup of coffee ten minutes ago, and now Tony has been unusually quiet.

Tony spins his chair around, looking thoughtful. He waves his fountain pen in midair, pointing at his screen in general, “This isn’t some sort of prank Bruce asked you to play, is it?”

“Prank? Tony, this is my wife we’re talking about.” Steve is about to lose his patience. He crosses his arm, dead serious, “What is … this? Am I being paranoid or …”

He wouldn’t dare to think about you in actual danger and he’s sitting cozily in Avengers Compound. He could’ve been risking your precious rescue time. Or warn you, somehow.

Even knowing that you have your special powers.

Your mutant powers.

Still, there are hundreds of ways for you to be defenseless.

A collar could suppress all your powers. A shot of the new dose of Mutant Serum could make you lose your X-gene once and for all. And all those terrible things that could happen to you.

Tony scratches his goatee, his expression is puzzled, to say the least, “this static that you provided, looks like the interface Bruce and I were cooking up for a Friday-upgrade.”

“English, please, Tony.”

Tony magnifies the example of static extracted from the recording that is automatically stored on Stark servers, and pulls out a random MRI brain scan from Steve’s health exam last year, “See what I mean?”

Steve watches the two waves on the screen closely, almost stuttering from what he is summarizing, “They look … similar.”

“Exactly.” Tony throws the MRI scan off the screen and points to the static, “This? This isn’t sound. This is human thinking. Hell, thinking, I’m not even sure it’s human. And it has a purpose. The reason you are hearing the ‘static’ – I’ll name that thing later, is that it serves as a relay, that patches you through its – thinking, whatever, and directs your call to Y/N.”

“It isn’t Friday?” Steve blurts out the only AI he could think of.

“If it is Friday, the Nobel committee is handing me the award right this moment.” Tony snorts, but he turns serious as soon as he notices Steve’s worrying look, “but with this fragment, I can locate Y/N,” and with a few taps on the keyboard, a global map appears in front of them.

Tony mutters to himself, “Can’t track the relay itself, but I can … ”

Another few keystrokes and a red dot blip.

“… in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.” Tony isn’t even sure about what the blipping dot shows, “Now this can’t be right-” Tony looks back at Steve, whose eyebrows are tying up like knots, “Where did you say she’s having this academic conference?”

“Leipzig, Germany.” Steve answers without a second thought, “Quantum 2023.”

Tony looks awe-struck.

“I’m sending a team to get her.” Steve stands up from his seat abruptly, heading to the doorway, but Tony’s words make him stop.

“Quantum 2023 is next week, Steve. And it isn’t held in Leipzig.”

“But that’s impossible,” Steve turns on his heels, glaring at Tony, “She told me that she came into contact with some Professor, who invited her to this conference because she was doing so well with her panel back in January.”

“And what’s that panel?”

“CPS Quantum Computer-”

“CPSQ was never held this year.” Tony shakes his head, “The conference was cancelled because a main member of the CPSQ committee passed away last December. What else has she told you?”

“I can’t tell you.” You dare not read his face. Your gaze lands on the marble counter that you and Steve agreed on two years ago, instead of him. You lied. And you know you lied. And the fact that you know that you can tell him nothing, makes you even more scared and frightened, as you are well aware the last things Steve would tolerate are betrayal and infidelity.

Your shared home, once a sanctuary for you and the love of your life, now withering and shaken, cold and gloomy. It no longer is a safe haven for you.

“Did anyone blackmail you with anything?” Steve asks calmly.

He’s prepared for the worst things to come.

He spent the whole night with Tony trying to figure out the so-called “academic conferences” you were supposed to be a part of, and there were eight of them during the last three years.

Some calls were too old to trace, but Tony has figured out it with the recent three conferences, you weren’t doing Keynotes or presenting your results to academia, but in the same spot in the Pacific doing God knows what.

It was undocumented waters. Tony could only gather so much info that the islands in the vicinity were bought by a mysterious wealthy man who paid through his Kaymen Island account.

And you were visiting it almost every four months. Like clockwork.

There were a few heat signatures on the island, but with no visible vehicle, neither ferry nor helicopter in sight, Tony would have to guess that you would need someone who can transport you from where you were to the island.

“No.” You have no excuse. No reasons. No idea what you should say.

But you weren’t blackmailed. You went there voluntarily.

His gaze feels heavy on your shoulders. From the corner of your eyes, you can see he’s looking at you intensely. Trying to figure out whether you are still lying to him.

“Are you cheating?”

The other possible explanation he has thought of. Frightening, if an answer of certainty comes out of your mouth, but it would explain your lies. Steve curls his hand into a fist, the veins on his hand popping briefly onto his skin.

The hands that caressed your hair and your jaw, cradling your face when he leaned in to kiss you. All the gentle moves. Treating you as a soft and delicate being. Now a hard fist on the table.

He didn’t touch you on your way back to your home. Nor did he accept your hugs and kisses at the airport.

He was very disappointed.

“No.” You answer, with your head low.

How could he doubt your relationship? How could he doubt your love for him? Waiting for him to return after every battle, taking care of his wounds, having-

How could he think all of those were lies too?

“Then what are you hiding?”

Steve maintains his best manners not to crush the table under his fist into bits and pieces. He wants you to answer. Something. Tell him why he has been kept in the dark.

Anything.

You open your mouth, but no word comes out.

“I can’t tell you.” You whisper, your resolve of keeping the secret faltering under his piercing gaze. But you can’t tell him.

There’s turmoil in your stomach, wreaking havoc in your guts. You want to throw up when thinking about the truth, but cannot say it. Not with your teeth and tongue. Not with pen and paper. You cannot. You physically cannot.

Nothing remorseful or any expression similar appears on your face, as Steve observes your reaction closely.

“Please, Steve. I promise I’ll tell you, but now is not the time. It was – is an important … deed, to do.”

Steve stands up from his chair slowly.

Not even looking at you anymore, he sounds emotionless. Cold.

“I thought for a moment you were kidnapped. Tortured. Lured into a trap.”

“Steve-”

“I was this close,” he pinches his index finger and thumb together, “sending a full-blown rescue tactical team, to get you out.”

“Steve, please, just listen-”

“And are you talking, Y/N? Are you telling me what I need to hear?” He stands with his back to you, shaking with uncontrollable anger. “The truth, that’s all I want.”

“I can’t-”

“I can’t, either.” He interrupts you. For the entire time you can remember, from his cute and sweet attempts to ask you out on a date, from his chivalry of taking you out and asking you to be his wife, from the start of your happy marriage, he hasn’t once interrupted you when you were talking.

Tears roll down your eyes as you are tongue-tied, unable to utter a sound.

But Steve didn’t see those tears. If he did, he would have some idea that you are truly sorry for what you have done.

Steve stands with his back to you.

“I’ll save us the trouble and ask Tony to wipe our marriage from the system.”

Almost a shriek, your hands and feet are placed in the bottom of the ice pit, “You can’t-! I- You can’t!”

Your sobbing fills the room that was occupied by a dreadful silence. From your husband.

You would never imagine that a lie would go this far.

“Watch me.”

He can’t, not when you are-

Not when you are working on-

Not when you are trying to-

He can’t.

Realization dawns on you that even if you did tell him one thing that you can say to make him stay, he would consider it a lie.

Or an effort you make, trying to be bound to him.

That your trust is broken forever.

With that realization hitting you, he leaves the room.

Five years later, somewhere near Hawaii.

“This is really nice, what you got over here,” Tony comments in honesty, taking a step back to observe the rippling portal gate, “How long has it been put into use?”

Jean, the woman with flaming red hair and a scarf around her shoulders, has an impeccable smile on her face, leading the way as Natasha and Steve boarded the small vehicle up ahead, “Four. We used to transport to and from all over the world with the help of mutants who can create a portal. But as larger machines and construction materials were needed on Krakoa, the very land that you are standing on, our top scientists decided to benefit us all by inventing an instant portal device- Devices, should I say.”

As there are three large portals, each the size of a house, standing next to each other on the founding stones.

“Why are we even here?” Steve murmurs to Natasha, sounding confused, “I thought bargaining was Tony’s specialty…?”

“Smile, Rogers.” Natasha murmurs back, her eyes scanning the tropical island for any anomaly, “It’s a diplomatic event, not a business one.”

“Like a photo Op?”

“Like a peace offering.” Nat lowers her voice as she notices a mutant with bright green hair start the engine of their car, and take the position as their driver, “Krakoa now has the most efficient cancer eradication solution, and if we all behave and act like adults, the world would accept the possibility of the first mutant country. The UN is considering whether to add Krakoa as a new member country as we speak.”

“And if we blew it, WW3?”

“Worse. We will be hanged before we could say ‘assemble’.” Natasha sits straighter when Tony and Jean, the woman with red hair approaches the vehicle, and asks with a louder voice, “Would you mind telling us about the three-day trip planned on Krakoa?”

“Certainly.” With a look from Jean, the green-hair starts the car and drives away from the beach, heading towards a road that leads to the Krakoa city center. “We don’t have anything planned for this evening, so Lorna – our temporary driver - and I will show you around this place in general and escort you to your residence, where you will have dinner with our high council tonight. Tomorrow you’ll visit our university facilities and our most advanced laboratory, with our head scientist Hank. If you would like to visit any place else, feel free to tell us and we’ll try our best to satisfy your demands…”

Their residence is a small building near the city square. After a brief tour of the area, Jean tells them that normally they wouldn’t expect many visitors, so the building, though more well-equipped than most hotels, only resides the three of them, plus Jean for now.

Natasha strides across the room as Tony takes voice notes on his phone.

“… Their technology is at least two decades, if not three, more advanced than our top scientist.” With that as a summary, Tony stuffs his phone in his pocket.

And the room is filled with deafening silence.

“Do you think they cleared this place out when they are expecting us?” Steve sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at Tony and Natasha.

“They are afraid of us, as we are afraid of them.” Natasha says slowly. Not really answering Steve’s question, but hinting at the opinion that she has in mind. Her striding comes to a halt, “The looks we had on our way here? Not all friendly.”

“Too bad we don’t have a mutant as a middleman.” Tony clicks his tongue, moving around his jaw like he has a toothache.

“Tony-” Starts Natasha warningly.

They all know one mutant who helped around in the Avengers a few years ago. They know one mutant was exceptionally close to Steve. Hell, they were even there to witness the wedding of-

“I’m gonna go get some air.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a long exhale, before walking out of the room.

Of Steve and you.

You were not a powerful mutant. But you would be helpful, under a circumstance like this.

But Steve divorced you a few years back.

No one knows why. No one knows any information regarding the terrible divorce that made Steve leave you, leave the States for months.

Except that you were “missing” from time to time.

Natasha sits on the other armchair in the room, looking closely at Tony, and his greying beard. She chooses her words very carefully, “Was she…” Were you cheating back then? On Steve?

Tony shakes his head, “He never told me.”

“But is it possible that…”

“I wanted to believe the other way.” Tony nibbling at his bottom lip. In the end, he looks back at Natasha, the former Russian spy, “But the incident right after she left…”

A breach that erased all of your data, along with the data of three staff within the Avengers Compound, happened a few months after you left the Compound and disappeared. Not only the records of your information, but also calls and texts, almost every trace of your presence was erased completely from both Avengers Compound and the government system as well.

The three staff later identified as mutants. They fled from the compound on the same day of the incident.

No one knew where you were. No CCTV or surveillance camera has recorded your prescence ever since.

It's a shame to admit, but no one bothered to look either.

After all, there were no demands or ransoms asked. And they were too busy saving the world to care for such trivia.

Nothing else was missing.

A few printed photos that Steve kept in his office survived. Printed photos of you and him together. That he had kept in the bottom of his drawer ever since your divorce.

A week later, Krakoa was established, announcing itself as a country and providing shelters for all mutants.

Steve suspected that the two events might be connected somehow, but Krakoa banned anyone who isn’t a mutant from entering the territory and has been moving on the map ever since, refusing any prying eyes.

Steve wanders into the patch of green a few hundred inches away from the hotel, heading towards the beach.

He was painfully reminded of you.

Of your happy times together.

And the determination you showed when you refused to tell him about your affair.

Yes, your affair. Even though you denied it. Steve believes that you were lying to him. About your location, about your everything.

About your lover.

“… come on down little monkey!” A familiar voice ghosting his ears.

A little girl screams at the top of her lungs, before giggling and sitting at the far end of a branch on a tree a few meters away, “But it’s out of power-Hi, Uncle Hank!”

The girl has blonde curly hair, bouncing as she jumps on the thin branch that could snap at any second. Steve is about to sprint to rescue when he hears you.

Your familiar voice.

“Come on, Mommy will catch you.” You clap your hand, your back facing Steve, who is hiding in the bushes. Your arms stretched wide open, urging the little girl to come down.

Urging your daughter to come down from the tree? From a branch seven feet in the air? How are you even encouraging the little girl while she could break her neck is unfathomable to Steve. This is stupid. Reckless. Irresponsible. A total -

“Come on, little monkey.” You clap your hand again, “It won’t be half as fun if I have to come up and get you.”

“Sorry, Y/N, I didn’t know that the rocket boots will die so soon,” begins a man on your side, apologizing. A thin man with glasses in his 40s. “The battery is supposed to last five hours when I put them on- Oh.”

“Yes.” Steve hears your grumpiness, “Batteries. Hank. My expertise.”

Steve knows your expertise.

Although you studied quantum physics and its application, your interest in Physics derived from your ability to absorb power and power transformation. However, you were not particularly interested in fighting bad guys, that’s why you weren’t on missions as often as he thought you would.

Batteries. You would absorb electricity from it in an instant, even when you are not intentionally doing so.

“Exhibiting her abilities so soon?” Hank gasps in disbelief, raising his head to look at your daughter jumping on that twig, “Normally it would be until their teen years.”

You chuckle, “Missing out on the latest Bio lab, aren’t you? They just published a paper about how mutant parents would cause a higher rate of mutant children, and as a result, their abilities tend to show earlier. Even so,” you kick the sand under your feet, your voice less exciting, “Hers is showing earlier than I did.”

“You showed your ability when you were five, right?”

“Two months till five. But yeah, pretty early. She made the light in our room flick on and off, starting from a month ago.” You make one last attempt at your daughter, who is having her fun with those thick rocket boots on her feet, “Be a sweetheart and come down, alright? Mommy is getting tired and we haven’t had dinner yet.” You plead softly.

“Alright, Mommy.” The little girl answers.

As Steve watches from afar, worrying sick that your daughter would fall from the tree, she spreads her arms and falls from the tree. But like a piece of paper, descending slowly into your arms.

Absorbing gravity to cancel it out. One of your typical moves too. Steve thinks bitterly. No doubt the little girl is your daughter.

Hank offers something as you three walk further from Steve and the bush he’s hiding. Steve didn’t quite catch what he said, but he hears you reply with a certain “Yes”.

Your voice trails away, “But it’ll be fine. Won’t we, little monkey?”

The little girl giggles again.

“Do you want Daddy back, Mommy?” Your daughter Maddie asks abruptly as you take out the storybook before bed.

“I-” It would be a lie, to say that you do not want Steve. But years have gone by and you’ve built your life around Maddie and Krakoa. While you were desperate, wanting him back when you found yourself pregnant with Maddie, the night when he left your house, you knew that the only reason Steve would stick around, which is knowing that you are pregnant. Despite the responsibility he would be burdened with, he would also doubt whether he’s raising some other people’s child, since he already suspects that you were cheating, and your life would be miserable with his indifference.

You remember your panicking and fearing his leave.

Thinking that he can’t leave you, not when you are pregnant, not when you are working on a home and a shelter for your future children, trying to create a safe haven for you and your family.

But he left.

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” You tuck a strand of her blonde curls behind her ears, gazing into her beautiful cerulean eyes, “I hurt your father really bad when I made the big mistake that we talked about. And he hurt me too. Not that he wanted to, but he left me alone in this world.” You kiss her short chubby hand, placing her hand on your cheek, “We won’t be happy ever again. Because I lied to him. And he will always remember it.”

“Oh.” Maddie sounds disappointed, scrunching her little face together, “But Daddy knows you are doing the right thing, right? Building Kra-Kra-Krakoa and our home?”

She tried a few times to pronounce the word “Krakoa”, making you smile.

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” You explain to her with more patience than you can ever imagine, “I have never seen your father ever since.”

“He should!” Your daughter curls herself up into a ball in your arms, nuzzling your soft pyjamas, “He should be proud of you. And what you did. You help build the island, Mommy. Daddy should know. And he will forget your lying.”

Kids. Always thinking everything in the world is so simple. A small grin creeps up your lips.

But in your heart, the bitterness swirls into a dark pit.

Everyone else understood. Other mutants who had a family, who told their partners they will be gone for a while, who lied to their partners that they were needed for a job.

Their partners did. Their partners understood the cruelty of separation and the pain that those mutants cannot utter a word about their whereabouts, or the details of the job. The worst you’ve heard of, aside from yourself as an example, was a huge fight between Lorna and her boyfriend, but in the end, she forgave him after a week, having enough trust for both of them to continue their relationship and got married two years ago.

But no. Not Steve.

Steve, who quickly jumped to the conclusion that there was no need to continue this marriage.

Steve, after leaving word of divorcing you, left. To some shit-eating place in South Africa, for two whole months.

Two months. Two months of prying eyes and prodding questions from the Avengers, which you knew they were being kind and helpful, but you couldn’t stay there. Not when it brought pain and scars to your chest every time you’d see some possession that belonged to him, and cry your eyes out, nearly losing Maddie as a result. Not when they were also suspecting that you cheated on Steve and scolding you lightly, telling you to “speak to Steve and ask for his forgiveness”.

They were his family. Not really yours.

Yours is here.

You kiss her forehead, tucking her in, “I sure hope so. Good night, sweetheart.”

Your smile fades as your mind drifts to the human delegation that is alleged to arrive today.

You asked to be kept out of the loop and out of the trails that the delegation is visiting. You even confirmed with Hank today that you would take these three days off from the lab.

You blocked all relevant information regarding those visitors.

You were raised by this mutant family, by mutants such as Jean and Hank and befriended them, and you had your heart broken in the human world. You don’t want anywhere near humans ever again.

“These are some state-of-the-art devices. I have to say, I’m very impressed.” Tony tilts his head to the side, reading the metrics recorded on the screen in the up-state Bio lab, “This is not quite my expertise though, the project you are operating here.”

Hank magnifies the part Tony is observing onto the huge screen behind them, “We are trying to incorporate human thoughts into robots, but in a wireless form. With a thought-” Hank, the man in glasses, places two stickers onto his head, and a robotic arm on the far end of the lab begins writing “Welcome”, stopping dead when it comes to “O”. Hank shrugs, not even bothered by the failure of the demonstration, “We have a talented specialist that helps with coding, but there are always some interferences with the transmission.”

Natasha clears her throat to gain their attention, “I’m also very impressed with the construction of the island as a whole. A construction this large should take … what, five years and a couple hundred workers?”

“Two and a half, to be precise.” Hank gestures for them to move forward onto the Physics lab, peeling the stickers off his temple, “About three dozen mutants involved. It would be sooner if it weren’t…” As if he suddenly was reminded of something, Hank let out a short “Ah”, and a brief pause, “if it weren’t some … unintentional held-up with one of our finest mutants.” His eyes land on sulking Steve, only for a few seconds.

Hank said it with a proud smile on his face. It didn’t take Steve forever to recognize the man from the beach last night, who gave your daughter, very irresponsibly, Steve might add, rocket boots.

Your daughter’s father is very irresponsible too. Not even showing up when your daughter is in danger. He thinks, clenching his jaw, praying for strength that he would punch that guy in the face if he ever meets him.

Natasha and Tony exchange a glance behind Hank, failing to notice Steve and his stern expressions.

“But it must have been a huge effort, even with three dozen, to keep them silent?” Natasha jokes light-heartedly, “There’s hardly any secret in the Avengers Compound without the full staff knowing it in three days.”

Hank nods politely, holding the door for them to come through, “Well, yes. But as you are well aware, a few of our best mutants are telepathic, meaning they could plant a gag order in our heads,” Hank taps his temple with his knuckle, “We couldn’t speak to anyone else about Krakoa for three years until it’s established. Our mind forbade us to speak of it because of the gag order.”

“Masochists, and they are proud of it,” Natasha whispers to Tony in a rush.

“It is troubling. Misunderstandings and arguments have aroused based on the gag order and its implementation.” Hank walks them through the long hallway from one building to another, “But we agreed it’s for the best at that moment.”

Tony makes a face that isn’t as obvious, but Steve and Natasha could tell that’s his disapproving face.

As Hank opens another door for them, the first thing they see is a little girl playing with her toy car on a tall chair. She slides the car down from a colorful track, and the track would deliver the toy car back to her hands.

“Maddison!” Hank rushes to her side, looking up and down to see whether the girl got hurt, “What are you doing here?”

“Mommy needs to pick up something.” Maddie points at you, cheering, “Look! Mommy Mommy!” She drops her toy car to the ground, and jumps off the tall chair, running to you and hugging your thigh.

Steve stops breathing. Seeing you, well and alive in front of him, with your daughter, in a rosy-pink dress that you bought while dating him a few years back.

You look … the same.

“Get behind me, Maddie.” You tug the little girl on her arm, to have her shielded fully behind your legs. An undetectable shakiness in your voice.

Maddie peeks from behind you. She doesn’t understand where this tension is coming from, but she understands one thing: “Mommy, is that Daddy?” She raises her head and asks.

You hate to lie to your daughter. But you are not going to let her be exposed to Natasha and Tony, and most importantly, Steve.

“Christ. It’s Y/N.” Tony mutters.

“Mommy, he looks exactly like the photo you showed me.” Maddie asks in confusion, pointing towards Steve, “He looks exactly like Daddy?”

“Maddison, not now.” It takes all your willpower not to push them all out of the lab at once, “Hank, would you mind?” You glance icily at Hank, urging him to solve the problem at hand.

“Yes, of course.” Hank starts to head the other way, “I’m sorry, but we’re behind schedule. If you would come with me-”

“No one is coming anywhere until we deal with this,” Tony announces, one hand already on his wristwatch, which you know contains a small plasma canon if he activates it.

“Is she…?” Steve knows the answer to his question before he asks. The hair and the eyes are similar to his, and the nose and lips resemble yours-

“Boys,” Natasha raises her voice, “Let’s be civil, shall we?”

“How old is she?” Steve feels a lump down his throat, “is she-”

“Civil?” You let out a dry laugh, the exact opposite of amused, “Tony Fucking Stark is ready to attack when he pulls out that wristwatch. And Natasha, long time no see, the same goes for your widow bites too. Yeah, I saw the glowing blue under your sleeves. You are trying to take my child away from me in a heartbeat and call yourself civil?”

“Tony, Nat.” Steve speaks.

Two words that bring the two of them away from their weapons.

You pick Maddie up from the ground, having your back to the Avengers, protecting your daughter from their grasp, “Let’s go, Maddie. I am apparently not welcomed here.”

“Y/N!” Steve calls to your back, “Y/N, please!”

Natasha is tempted to step forward and ask you to stay and talk this out, being blocked by Hank.

“I assume it is best that you stay right where you are,” Hank says politely, though his thin body has no intention of moving.

Maddie hugs your neck, laying her head on your shoulders. Her blue eyes focusing on Steve while you walk away.

Find my The Slumber Party Present Bingo Challenge here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

hello seth! i don’t think my tumblr works with anon so i’ll just send it like this! i’m a huge fan of your writing and i absolutely adore it. whenever i am in the need for a good story and writing inspiration i go to your blog. so i was hoping if you could write a sally face fic! i haven’t seen too many on here and willing to write for m reader or ftm.

i like the thought of being with sally and just having time with him, soft domestic type stuff. then he starts asking you how you really feel about his face and you smile and take off his mask with permission and kiss him saying he’s beautiful and to not worry. you kiss him and hold him. he then sits up but keeps your lips locked and you begin to explore each other sexually but in a such intimate way you both are crying almost. if you want could be m reader but i would love a ftm reader! can we also have reader be bottom but still be guiding sally and affirming him. i know this is a big ask and you’re always working so hard so please take liberty with this ask! take what you want from it and remove what you don’t like. i just love you’re writing. take your time as well! writing can be draining sometimes and you really need to find that inspiration so i want to make sure you feel no pressure!

have a good day/night/evening!!<3

❝ I'll show you how we're supposed to feel (when we meet at Orion's belt) ❞

SalFisher x ftm!reader | fluffy, NSFW | reader has had top-surgery & bottom growth | sub. bot. reader | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 5.4 k

warnings: mentions of facial dysphoria, self-deprecating thoughts (Sal), unprotected sex, praise (a lot of it), minor hair pulling, creampies, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick/cock, terms like cunt and boypussy are used)

masterlist ;

authors note: thank you so much for your kind words! hearing that you use my writing as writing inspiration made me feel so warm and fuzzy on the inside oh lord 😭 you're too kind! This request was the softest one I've ever worked on, thank you so much for gracing me with the opportunity to write this~

*song on repeat: Orion's Belt by Sabrina Claudio / Baby Girl by SMNM

"Cold, cold, cold," Sal lifts his head from the couch. The sight of you rushing down the wooden stairs in nothing but a towel makes him lift himself to sit. "Fuck! Sal, you should put carpet in here!" Grinning, he leans forward and folds himself in half to stare at you furiously lifting the towel up to wrap around your shoulders instead.

"You hate carpet. B'sides, it'll get that weird moldy smell in here. I told you to get those fuzzy slippers," Gizmo meows in agreement from his corner of the couch. "Traitor!" you exclaim and he simply meows once again, lifting a leg to lick his stomach and Sal reaches over to give his head a good scratch.

"See? Even Gizmo agrees."

"Gizmo has in-built fuzzy socks. He has no say in this," your huffing and puffing simply makes Sal roll his eye, lifting Gizmo up to place the large cat right on his stomach while he props his head onto the armrest of the couch. Gizmo stretches out onto his torso, unbothered by the change in position while he presses his nose into Sal's chest and twists until he's nearly full on his back; the action makes Sal secure the old cat on him. His olive-toned arm loosely wrapped across Gizmo's purring body.

You're still rambling but it's all background noise to Sal. The sight of your bare legs and backside calls for his attention and despite how guilty he feels, he can't help but drag his sight all the way up to your — now — bare shoulders. The towel is now limply draped over the towel rack, and your muscles and bones are moving seamlessly underneath the fabric of your skin.

Everything about you can make him feel like he's going to explode. In a good way, if you can believe it. He sure as hell didn't. Sal remembers the first time he saw you, thinking you looked cool and that it was nice your interests lined with his. Somehow you managed to become more than that.

More always scared Sal. It was greedy and selfish. He wasn't religious but there was a sense of anxiety that came from wanting and needing more than you were given. Some sort of divine guilt was planted within him through passing by churches and reading the signs of worship plastered on billboards. Needing more is frightening, especially from other people.

More time spent with you two. More hours of listening to you speaking. More days spent with you in his home, bare skin and bare soul all for him and only him.

It frightened him!

Because, as self-centered as it sounds, he'd have to give you more. Don't take this the wrong way, he wants to — God, he wants to — but...but...

What if you don't like all that he has?

The fabric of his skin is spoiled. Marred. One of his eyes is artificial, his jaw asymmetrical, bone blown to bits, nose cut off and skin grafts stitched together and spliced.

His heart hammers in his chest, and his breathing is shaky as he squeezes Gizmo. The patch-furred critter mews, twisting once again and crawling up. His weight on Sal's chest is comforting. The pressure across it squeezed down on him, reminding his body that it was real and he was safe.

"In conclusion, I propose we buy a heater! That way we can — "

You're dressed in Sal's pajama pants, hands in the middle of pulling down the oversized band shirt when you notice Sal squeezing his eyes shut.

"Sal? Baby? What's wrong?" You sit by his legs, placing a hand on his knee and pressing your hands on it to ease him back down. "You're okay, baby. You're okay." It's not often Sal gets like this. You've known him ever since he came to Nockfell County; you know he's the type of person to withdraw within himself when his anxieties get the best of him. He's certainly gotten better with time and as your friendship — and eventual relationship — got stronger, the both of you worked on ways to lean on each other when things get tough.

Sal inhales deeply, Gizmo raising with the motion, and exhales. You don't pry more, giving him room to find the words and tether back to you. Gizmo's purrs muffle the silence.

"Sorry, just, the sight of your ass gave me a heart attack, Jesus," the joke is met with a loose grin but Sal knows you better than that. Still. He's grateful you snort at his jesting. Gizmo stands — Sal grimaces as he puts all his weight on his sternum — then walks over to your lap instead. The sight makes him calm down.

The faded grey of the once-black band shirt and his pajama pants do too. It's silly but the sight of you in everything that's his comforts a part of him. You're here. You're in love with him. Your gaze holds nothing but patience and adoration and a tinge of worry.

But you're here, in his clothes, in his room, his cat in your lap, and your hands on his body.

"You feeling better, Sal?" He nods, pushing to sit. "Do you wanna talk about it, baby?" Gizmo gives your chin one more bump before he jumps on the floor and meanders his way to his food bowl. Taking the chance, you inch closer to Sal and he's grateful for it.

You're not scared of the cold prosthetic on his face. The iron bolts that secure the straps to his face and head, the glass eye that shines humourlessly in any situation.

"Do you ever want...more from this? From me?" That line of questioning made your brows furrow and mouth frown. "What do you mean?" You reach for him and Sal reciprocates by holding your hand in his lap.

"I was joking about seducing Mr Smith from the electronics store for a heater," he scoffs at your lame joke but continues. "I don't mean that, I'll get us a heater. Just..."

"You've never seen...all of me." His grip loosens but you don't let it. "So?" he looks at you, his face angled low and the shape of his prosthesis mimics his brow bone. Sal is pinching his face, confused at your indignant tone.

"So?" He whispers. You lift his hand up, inching in closer and placing his knuckles over your clavicle.

"So?"

"Doesn't it freak you out? We've been together for so long and you've never seen my face," he murmurs. Since you're so close, speaking above a whisper would ruin this moment. Sal's heart is racing again though this time the anxiety is laced with his love for yours. It's a confusing emotion but he relishes the way you press your forehead to his, nose bumping with the bump on his prosthesis.

"Do you want me to see your face?" He inhales sharply, glancing away.

"...I do. But..."

"Mm?" you spread his fingers out, guiding them to your neck and the calloused pads of Sal's fingers make gooseflesh spread. The hairs on the back of your neck standing in applause; because that's what he does to you.

He makes your pupils expand, makes your heart race, makes your brain produce dopamine; your body lights up like a goddamn firework when he so much as looks your way. You can be yourself with him without fear because you know you do the same to him.

"...I've only ever let you kiss me when it's dark. The first time we had sex, I couldn't even take off the mask...I just...I'm..."

Your frown deepens when Sal sighs, his shoulders dropping.

"Be honest. Does it bother you?"

He's glad you don't reply immediately. A part of him always worries your love for him overtakes everything else. That, if something ever happens between the two of you and it tears you apart, you'll feel regret once the love is gone. You brush his hair behind his ear, cupping his jaw as you shake your head.

"No. It doesn't. Because it's you, Sal. I love you. Even the parts you aren't ready for me to see." He exhales and his breath escapes through the slits of his mouth. You feel it on your thumb and it makes you grin.

There's a twitch in his eye and your grin falters for a moment before it reappears when he locks eyes with you.

"...Do you want me to see your face, baby?"

His jaw is set. His tongue is made of lead. So Sal simply closes his eyes and gives you a minuscule nod. If it weren't for your hand on his jaw, you probably would've mistaken it for a twitch.

"Can I take off your prosthetic?"

Another nod.

"Are you sure, baby? I won't do it if you're not — "

"I'm sure." He says in one breath. "I'm sure."

A moment of silence was shared and you leaned forward to press your lips in the molding of his. The cool material does not pulse or pump with life but it's your Sal's and you cherish it deeply; he exhales shakily and you grin as your fingers dance through the locks of blue to find the straps that hold the prosthetic in place.

It's secure, it's meant to be, and you can feel the wear and tear of the years in the material. The scratches and indents weaved into every fiber. You unbuckle the lower end first and Sal tightens his hold on you, so you pause and press another kiss to his porcelain cheek.

When he nods, you continue, cupping the mask in one hand to steady it while you undo the upper buckle.

Sal would be statue-like if it weren't for the nervous tremors in his fingers. The mask loosens and its weight drops into your hand. His breath does not come through the slits anymore and you can feel it breeze through the fine hairs on your fingers.

He says nothing and neither do you. Still, you place one more kiss on the forehead of his prosthetic and lower it from view.

Sal has his eyes cast away, but he faces you. There's a large scar across the right side of his mouth, splitting his lips and exposing his teeth. There's a dent on the right side of his lower jaw that leaves his bone structure slightly unbalanced, and the cartilage of his nose is completely missing. The skin has healed, stretching his eye and tugging on the rest. It's pinkish still, never quite settling into the rest of his olive-toned skin, and Sal understands why it's jarring.

It's like peeling back the layers of what makes humans...humans.

The skin. The sight of his face makes people unnerved. Teeth and gums and muscles and the lack of a nose. One side of his face was a plain canvas and the other was a goddamn Jackson Pollock painting of horror.

Your touch on his bare skin shocks him. The pads of your fingers drag across his cheekbones. "Does it hurt?" You ask with your eyes lidded.

"No, no, it...it doesn't." You smile and your thumb rests just under his eyes, sweeping fondly while your palm holds his face preciously within your hand. There's a flush to his skin — it's not unusual with how the prosthetic held over his face nearly 24/7.

There's a feeling of nakedness that comes without the even pressure across his visage but your hands are an amazing substitute.

"You don't have to be nice," he says. "It takes a lot to get used to — "

"I know I can't completely convince you to not think of yourself as 'something to get used to' but you're not. Not to me." Sal's eye water and he wills himself to finally look at you.

There's a pinch to your brows, it makes your eyebrows cast this shadow across your eyes and highlight the colours of your eyes. You're frowning at his self-deprecation, though beyond that he can see you mean well.

"I would gladly sit on your face, Sal."

He scoffs, groaning as he slips away from your hand to toss his head back and flop right onto the couch again. "You're fuckin' impossible, (Y/N)," he mumbled as his hands covered his face. You place the prosthetic down on the makeshift coffee table near the couch and chuckle as you swing one leg over his hips and rest your crotch over his.

"What? I'm being honest here!" Bracing your weight on your elbows, Sal finds the comfort of your body across his similar to Gizmo's. "You're fucking beautiful," he squirms at that and you huff, nuzzling your face into his neck while he peeks from over his fingers.

"You don't have to say that," you huff once again. "I'm not saying that because I have to, I'm saying it because I want to. You're fucking beautiful, me being your boyfriend is just a coincidence."

He feels you shifting and instinctively, his hands rest on your hips and there he is again. You know you shouldn't stare, so you don't, but the shy glances at his face are less than secretive. His eyes are blue, cobalt almost, and his eyebrows are a darker shade of his hair. The shape of his eyes is rounded, with a deep crease and heavy eyelids just like his father's. Lifting your head, you gaze down at him and your hands are once again gingerly ghosting on his skin. This time, they're tracing his collarbones, feeling up the protruding muscle of his neck and halting at his jaw.

"Can I kiss you, baby?" He has a quirk. A lip twitch that he does when he's excited; you've been dating him for years and you're still finding out new things about your boyfriend. It makes your heart race and it only triples in speed when he nods. Hovering, the peak of your lips ghost his. He had always envied how you kiss his prosthetic. It was an extension of himself but he hated how badly he wanted to feel you on him.

They press to his and Sal slips his eyes closed. It's nothing more than a peck. Innocent, chaste. But then he's tightening his grip and pulling you in; tilting his head like he's always seen other people do and you're grinning into it. He knows because he can feel it.

He can feel it.

How your lips spread, the hint of teeth that slide over his bottom ones, and the crinkling of your nose that's brushing over his cheek.

"You taste so good, pretty boy," your words make his ears red. "I'm sure anything is better than kissing porcelain," he replies with a breathless tone, leaning forward again as if unwilling to part from you even if just to talk.

"No, don't disrespect yourself like that. What did we say about making those jokes." "Hah, I'll stop when you do."

Giggling, you're leaning in again. Sal wonders if kissing you is the only reason he's not completely in tears. The first time he'd accidentally showed Larry his face, he'd cried because Larry didn't look away from him. You taste tears on your lips and Sal curses softly as he tucks himself under your jaw, groaning. You shush him comfortingly, threading your fingers through his hair as he takes a few deep inhales.

"I love you." Those words are followed by more tears and you squeeze him again. "I love you, Sal," he nods against your — his — shirt. He can feel the grin you have from the crown of his head.

"I love you. I love you. I love you."

Because you did. Sal was the man you wanted to be with until the Earth decided to throw in the towel; it didn't matter how buried your love for each other would be, because when your bones are dug up, or his guitar, or the treasure trove of things you've called yours; in the future, when you whisper to those archeologists: "Do you know?" they'd nod and reply, "We know you loved him."

Sal has never felt love like this. One that felt overwhelming at first, the same way entering a body would be for the first time in your life, but once he embraced the feeling? It was so...fulfilling.

How lucky was he?

Sal pulls away to cup your face and he leans in. You meet him halfway.

The feeling of your breath, your heart thudding against his own chest, the pulse beating under his thumb as he holds your neck — Sal isn't sure if he'd ever get into heaven but he doubts it ever compares to you.

His jaw moves and your lips part as you press closer. Fuck, kissing him felt like drinking in sunlight. There's a freedom that follows it, leaves you floaty and blissful.

"I love you," he replies between the friction, teeth biting down on your lower lip if only to hear if you'd gasp. You do.

"I love you so fuckin' much, (Y/N)." There's a feverish desperation in his words. But it makes your heart swell. There's no doubt in his eye, nothing but the truth and the truth is he'd worship you.

You're kissing again. Eager to show him the explosions he sets off within you. Between desperate lip locking and messy tangles of tongues, his hands move down and up your — his —shirt.

Squeezing your sides as he drags his digits across your skin. It spreads fire across your planes, has your already uneven breath shuddering as he memorizes the shape of your body again.

There's a growing hardness between his legs. You can feel it — twitching below your crotch as he tilts his head and tastes the lust that perspires from your neck.

He's greedy with his mouth. How could he not be? Sal has been wanting to taste you the second he realised how badly he wished you were his.

"Fuck, Sal." You groan, chewing on your lower lip as he experiments with this unmarked territory. His tongue is warm, his teeth brushes over pumping arteries with an air of amusement; when he finds the sweet spot? The spot where your breath hitched as he kissed it?

Sal makes your blood vessels explode. It isn't enough that the hairs on your neck stand in attention because of him, or how your blood rushes to your head when he so much as looks your way. He's determined to show you he can worship you in more ways than one.

You're gripping onto his shirt and your hips grind down. The moan he lets out makes your cunt wetter than before.

"I need you," you tell him as he sinks his teeth in. Just to test it out, to see if you'd like it. You do. His back feels cold as you lift his shirt but he grips at your wrist, panting as he moves his head away so you can see him.

"Can I...Can I keep it on?" He already felt a touch too exposed. You nod, reassuring him with a chaste peck.

"I'm gonna take of my shirt. You've made me all warm," he smiles a bit too smugly. He's handsome that way. When he gets a bit cocky — it's a sure fire way to make your head dizzy with desire.

"My shirt," he mumbles.

But when your bare torso is revealed the sass is pushed away. Sal presses kisses on your chest, teasing your perk buds with his too-warm hands and relishing in the way you toss your head back when he takes one in his mouth.

"Sal, holy fuck." He kneads at your ass, making your hips move back and forth. Rocking your clothed cunt over his boner as he leaves hickeys and bitemarks.

Here is where I plant my love, he thinks as he feels your heart pound against your ribcage, here is proof that he's mine.

Your pants are pulled below your waist and Sal moves back, making you yelp at the loss of balance. One second you're over him and the next, you're both tumbling over the couch.

His hand cradles the back of your head, curling over you as much as he could when you crash. Thankfully, none of you knocked into the coffee table but the adrenaline of the short fall makes the both of you wide-eyed.

"Holy fuck!" You laugh breathlessly. He scans you for any injury but soon follows suit. "You okay?" His hair curtains your face from view as he descends to claim your lips again.

"I'm peachy, baby." Sal grunts as you tug at the waist band of his pants. "Don't stop..." and how could he say no to you when you look up at him like that?

Your hands invade underneath his shirt and Sal moans as you press your fingers lightly into his back, kneading at the tense muscles. "M'not gonna take it off. Just wanna feel you," you assure as you reach his shoulder blades. God, the feeling of your hands on his body made him feel so Holy.

Ironic in the grand scheme of things but it's not like Sal gave a damn.

It's your turn to mark him up. He often already is. But this time your lips latch onto the obvious places. Lifting yourself to sit, Sal is suddenly at your mercy as you lovingly bruise him up with your mouth.

Sal lifts himself off your crotch a bit, panting and moaning at your ministrations, and slips his hand down your pants. Your breath stutters as your boyfriend touches your core.

"Sal," you plead. "I know, baby. I know," Sal frowns when you whine. "What? What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"You're just..." You're breathing heavily as you stare up at him, nails lightly digging into his skin as your dick twitches against his palm.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Sal."

That catches him completely off-guard. He hates how tears immediately burn at his waterline but regret doesn't come when they travel down his cheek. You're kissing him and the self-depriciation doesn't once rise. That snivelling, hissing, voice of doubt remains mute as you hold him.

"So fucking pretty," he slips his finger in as if attempting to distract you with pleasure. It makes you keen but you continue to sing praises for him as he pumps his digits in and out of you.

It's hard to move when you curl your arms over his back, hands peeking from the stretched out collar of his shirt. Forehead once again pressed to his.

"I can't — "

"You're all mine. My pretty boy is all mine." Blood should not rush so quickly to one's head. His chest is dusted in red, his shoulders, his ear, the apples of his cheek —

"You feel so good, Sal."

You allow him to push you back, splaying out onto the floor with your eyes lidded in want as he looked at you.

"...Shit, you're making my brain go all stupid," he grumbles — it sounds more like a whine. You lift your hips as he tugs your pants down and off. Sal gets between your legs and for a moment you think he's about to just slide in — which causes you a bit of concern considering how much meat he's packing between his legs — but then he lays on his stomach and your cock peeks straight up.

"I've watched a few pornos," he says with a grimace, "but — "

"I can guide you, Sal." He's looking up at you with those doe eyes and you chuckle as you brush some of his hair back. "You made me cum from grinding on your goddamn leg before. You've got this, Sex Grandmaster Sal."

"Really don't think mentioning Larry's marijuana induced rambling is setting the mood, babe," your giggle smooths out the furrowed brows he had. "Sorry, sorry."

Your cunt is making his mouth water. Sal presses his thumb on your cock and the sigh you let out eases his worries. His tongue on your dick has you inhaling deeply, slowly, back arching off the floor as he looks up at you.

He's overzealous but fuck does it make you wetter than you've ever been. Licking and sucking on your cock while he teases the opening of your cunt with his fingers. The hints of teeth makes your hips twist but he holds your hips down with muffled groans.

"Fuck, yes. You're doing so good, Sal. S'fuckin' good — holy shit, babe," the way your voice gets all pitchy makes him grin. Your slick on his tongue is making him want more, so he spreads your lips apart and sinks his tongue inside, it makes your grip onto his head, and Sal moans into you at the pinpricks of pain that follow.

Fingers accompanies his tongue and you're clamping your thighs around his head. It forces Sal's face into your cunt and the whole thing has him chuckling against you.

Pinning your thighs apart, Sal licks and swipes at the slick around his mouth and chin, catching his breath as he curses.

"Fucking Christ, does it feel that good?" You whine in retaliation. "You're the one going down on me of course I'm going fuckin' crazy. You get all whiny when I go down on you too — "

He curls a finger inside of you and you cut yourself off with a particularly loud moan. The floorboards above you creak and like a deer lifting its head as a branch snaps in the distance, another follows as whoever was in the living room heard the echoing cries of pleasure.

Sal slips another finger in and you cover your mouth, glaring at his handsome face petulantly. It falters as he stretches you out, thrusting in and out with a steady rhythm that he occasionally breaks to curl his fingers up.

You're groaning and curling your toes, eyelids fluttering and squeezing shut as he jerks you off with his other hand. Loosening his jaw, Sal uses his spit to lube you up further. He had a thing for sloppy sex. You once joked he enjoyed the slick-and-slide of it all and he didn't deny it then and probably won't ever.

"Nuh - no, don't wanna cum yet, I wanna cum with you, baby," he slows his rhythm, staring at you as you lift yourself onto your hands and taste yourself on his lips.

"Want you inside me. Please, Sal, I'm beggin'"

"You don't have to. I've got you." He nods when you hold onto the waist of his pants. Pulling it down to his knees and let his cock spring out into the air. Fuck, it's a pretty dick.

It's fat and heavy. Thicker than longer, the girth always makes your toes curl. It's a darker colour compared to the rest of his skin tone, the mushroom tip a warmer shade that burns when you tease him too much. You motion for the couch and he leans against it, whispering your name as you hover over his cock.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he says as you pump his dick with your fist while you line it up to your cunt. "You're pretty fucking hot yourself, big dick," he struggles not to laugh in your face, shaking his head in 'disapproval' that's short-lived.

You sink down on the tip of his cock and Sal moans out your name, squeezing your hips. You shiver for a moment, willing your insides not to clench so excitedly when you've still got some ways to go.

"Shit, (Y/N). You're so fuckin' tight." You could not agree more. The more you go down on him, the more you're tempted to just squeeze him like a vice. Sal brings your face down to kiss him, very quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of it. It's no wonder teenagers made out in the hallways all the damn time.

Gravity helps you the rest of the way. When he's all the way inside of you, you part your lips, the way your eyebrows slope being felt on Sal's forehead as you clench around him.

"Fuuuuck, Sal" you're whimpering his name, arms wrapped around his neck as you look at him. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby."

He swallows thickly, reaching to push your hair away from your face as he gazes up.

"I love you, so fuckin' much. I love you, Sal," you're determined to make him turn into nothing but mush. He's certain of it. His insides felt like a field of flowers, all blooming at once, even if it didn't sense at all. There's an airy moan that escapes him as you squeeze your inner thighs, your hips move forward and Sal grips you like he's afraid you're just a figment of his imagination.

"I know, baby," he whispers back. "I love you, more than you can imagine."

A dopey grin appears on your face. "You think you can show me how much you love me, handsome?" He smiles and your heart feels like it's going to stop.

"I can do more than show you, pretty boy."

He turns you over on your side, not once pulling out. You hastily grab some couch pillows for the both of you before your descent onto the floor. It's cold but that's all the more reason to hold onto each other.

Once your head is on a pillow and you're on your back again, he drapes over you.

Another kiss. Another mischievous nibble. A sly dance of tongues.

Sal is pulling out, the drag of his dick makes you whimper, and thrusts back home. The action has your nails leaving welts on his back but it just reinvigorates him.

He's splitting you open and filling you up. Every thrust makes you see stars. You're unwilling to let him go if the legs wrapped around his waist are saying anything.

But Sal is growing flustered the more praises you tell him.

"That's it, baby. Fuck this pussy, this pussy's just for you."

"Fuck, you look so good, baby. On top of me, fucking me, shit — !"

"Oh, God, your cock is — yeah, right there! — you're in so deep, Sal -Ah!"

You're so fucking filthy.

He wants to hide his face in your neck but he doesn't wanna take his eyes off you. Eyes trailing where his lips and teeth had been, eyeing the sheen of sweat on you and your messed up hair.

The shower you just took had been in vain, huh?

"Fuh - fuck, I'm close," he warns, bracing himself on his elbows as he hovers above you.

"Yeah? Me — mff! — too. Cum inside, baby. Need to feel you — fuuuuck — dripping outta' me," he chuckles breathlessly at your words.

His hips are stuttering and he can see the way your brows are furrowing, angelic moan after angelic moan being knocked out of you. He gives your cock a rub and the way your back arches off the floor makes him hold his own orgasm back just so he can see you like this as clearly as he can take it in.

"Sal, oh fuck, baby!"

"I've got you, (Y/N)."

He chokes out a groan as he feels you clamping down on him, your cunt gripping onto him like it never wants him to let go. You gasp as he snatches your breath, messily making out with him as the aftershocks of your orgasm are barrelled through thanks to Sal's deep thrusts.

"Shit, shit, shit," you smile as he begins to lose his rhythm. Ignoring how sensitive your boypussy feels as he chases his end. "C'mon, baby, fill me up. Yeah, that's it."

He cums with one final thrust. The warmth of it floods your insides, earning pleasant shivers from you as you moan out his name. He's riding his orgasm out, pushing in and out of you shallowly as he catches his breath above you.

"Jesus, fuck..." You giggle at his words, chest rising and falling in rapid motions as your heart tries to calm down.

"That was, Christ, that was — " "Fucking amazing?"

He nods, falling on top of you as carefully as he can. You embrace him, humming as he kisses your neck while you rub his back. The both of you catch your breath, satisfied expressions etched on your faces.

When Sal moves, your eyes are already closed. He pulls out and you whimper at the loss, ignoring the way he stares at his own jizz dripping out of your cunt in favor of gazing at his face.

"We gotta take a shower all over again," he says, helping you sit up and accepting the hug you give him when you're righted.

"...Wanna do it all over again in the shower?" Your question earns a throaty chuckle. "Thought it was implied in my statement."

Another beat of comfortable silence is shared. Sal sighs, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"Thank you, (Y/N)."

"I've got you, Sal."

[snazzyturtles]

“Confidential”

kuroo x f!reader, nsfw, mdni

being close to your big brother's best friend couldn't possibly lead to anything bad... right?

wc: 5.4 k

tw: best friend’s sister, age gap (2y) , virg reader, unprotected, cunnilingus (f! oral), titty sucking, light bondage, spanking, biting, squirting, creampie, bd/sp, pet names (chibi, baby, kitten, darling, babydoll, angel), kuroo calls himself daddy, lets face it kuroo is a horny mf

"chibi-chan-" you heard a deep voice saying seductively, strong arms hugging you from behind. a small yelp left your throat as you turned around, relaxing a bit more when you noticed who it was.

"kuroo! you shouldn't scare me like that!” you looked around, lowering your voice, "and i thought we agreed, no contact at school. if kenma saw us, he'd freak out."

and it was true- if kenma saw his best friend flirting with his younger sister, who knows what'll happen.

"my bad. sorry. but we both know we can't help it~" he said in a low, sexy voice. “i missed you, baby," he said, caressing your hair gently with one hand, as he brought the other hand to your waist. you whimpered, looking up at him. 

”kuroo, there are other people around us, people that could be watching. they might go tell him, and i don't think he'll appreciate his best friend hitting on his little sister,” you squeezed your eyes shut. "how about... school lets out in two hours, right? i’ll... i’ll just come to your place right after, okay?”

he placed a finger on your lips, as if to block you. "relax, baby,” he said. "no one around here thinks that about us. and in the slight chance that they might, is that not part of the fun?” kuroo brought his body closer to you, whispering in your ear, ”are you really sure you can wait?”

you stared at him for a minute, trying to think straight before nodding. he was so close to you.

"we both can wait, kuroo please.”

he chuckled, ”alright. two hours, then.” he said as he backed up and started walking away. however, before he got too far, he stepped back and leaned towards you, whispering in your ear. "i expect you to walk through my door wearing nothing but that red bikini i bought you at the beach~”

your head snapped up, but when you tried to respond he was already turned and walking away. your heart was beating fast, scared and excited for what was to come. and knowing kuroo, that could be anything…

you quickly pushed those thoughts away. it was only a bit of teasing, after all. nothing more to it than that… right?

when the final bell of the day rang, you ran home as fast as you could. you had to get there, change clothes, and leave before kenma saw you. you couldn't let him know about this.

running into your bedroom, you dug through your dresser drawers until you found the bikini kuroo bought you hiding at the bottom. it was tiny, the bottoms closer to a thong and the top being made of tiny material that barely covered your chest, breasts practically spilling out of it. it was bright red, one of his favorite colors. you hurriedly changed into it, putting a loose t-shirt and some shorts over it, and ran out of the house.

kuroo was already waiting for you at the door when you rounded the corner.

"you're late~" he said in a flirty voice, but his voice was mixed with genuine concern. once he saw you come inside, he brought you into an embrace, and gently kissed you on the lips. “what caused all the trouble?" he said in a teasing voice, as his hands began to go under your loose shirt and the shorts you were wearing.

"i-i had a bit of trouble trying to find the bikini set you asked me to wear... found it though.” your breath was shaking as you felt his cold fingers run up and down your skin beneath the t-shirt.

he was surprised by your nervousness. “you're shaking…" he let his hands run all over your skin, slowly bringing you closer to him.

"let's not stand around here though-" he whispered in a sexy voice as he took you by your hands and began walking towards his bedroom.

you could tell by the way he had been acting all day that this would be different. he was being more suggestive, more sly with his words. his hands were touching you more than usual. you had a feeling this wouldn't just be one of your normal make-out sessions.

once he had you inside his room, he pushed you against the wall and started to kiss you passionately. he was much more aggressive than he ever had been; it was as if the idea of you coming to his room wearing the red bikini had made him go insane. "chibi-chan~" he said as his hands went lower and lower. "i am so happy you came…“ he said as he bit your lower lip.

a gasp left your mouth when he bit down. it hurt, but it felt so good at the same time. whimpers began to escape your throat as you felt everything. he had you practically pinned against the wall, and you couldn't move as his mouth became more intense and his hands began to roam.

he bit your lower lip harder, while his other hand began to reach your thighs. he had always seen you as kenma's little sister. someone he had to be protective of, like a big brother. yet in this moment, he felt a rush of passion and lust. "chibi-chan~" he said in a sexy voice. "my body is yours.”

a moan came out of your mouth from his movements and words. the line of what was considered risqué and taboo for you two was blurred and you didn't know what to think anymore. "kurooooo" you whined out, long as slow from his touches.

"my, my. such a naughty and needy little kitten-" he whispered as he felt you moan. he pushed you down slowly, and as you got down on your knees, he knelt in front of you. "let daddy kuroo take care of you, baby~" he said while slowly sliding his shirt off.

you looked up at him with your eyes blown wide. it wasn't like you hadn't seen him without a shirt on before, you had gone to the pool and beach together several times. but this was different…

you sat there, not knowing what to do as you watched him. “k-kuroo?”

"no need to speak, baby. just enjoy yourself," he said as he pulled you closer to him. he kissed you passionately while slowly removing your shirt and shorts from you. only the red bikini that he had bought you remained.

the cold air rushed over you, chills going down your body as you sat there, letting him stare at you. the bikini leftover was so tiny.

he ran his fingers over your skin. “chibi-chan… i want you so badly~” he said in a seductive voice as he began to kiss your neck, moving his body closer to yours.

a whimper left your mouth when he kissed you, and your hands began running up and down his muscles. “k-kuroo? can... can i…” your face was blushing deeply by now.

"can you what, baby?” he said in a soft voice as his hands ran all over your body. he could feel your desire from your movements, and it made him lustful.

"can i call you by your first name? is that okay?” you looked up at him with babydoll eyes, not wanting to make him uncomfortable if you did it without permission.

he stopped for a second and stared at you. "of course you can, baby.” he said in a soft tone. “i want you to have as much fun as possible~" he said, as he kissed you on the lips, and began to remove his pants. he slipped his pants down slowly, making sure you were watching. his black boxers were the only thing that remained as he looked down on you again.

kuroo looked down at you. you were a small, and yet alluring figure, as you sat on your knees in front of him, wearing nothing but the bright red bikini. "my, my~ you look so hot in that color-" he said while reaching out with his hand to touch you.

you started whimpering as he brushed his hands across your bikini top, then slowly began untying the string. “te-tetsuro?”

he nodded. "yes, baby. what do you need?” his eyes were already glued to the string that connected your bikini top, fingers playing with it unmindfully. this was really happening.

”want you to touch me, tetsuro.” your breath was shaking, but you were confident in what you were saying.

your words hit him, and his eyes filled with lust, face turning red as he reached out with his hand and slowly, gently removed the top from your body. "is this what you wanted?" he asked seductively as he kissed you on the neck, and slowly ran his fingers over your body.

a loud moan escaped your mouth, groaning as you felt his hands and fingers tease your breasts. his hands were cold, rough, and they began to trace your skin with his fingertips. "so good tetsur- aH” your breath caught when you felt him pinch your nipple, sending shockwaves through your body.

he chuckled. "looks like I got a submissive little angel~" he said in a teasing voice as his hands began to roam all over your body. "i'm not done yet, baby~" he whispered seductively as he continued to fondle your body. kuroo lowered his face to your chest, and you could feel his breath against your skin. his tongue began to circle your nipples, playing with the peaks as his fingers pushed them up closer to his face. he attached his mouth to one, sucking hard and nibbling at the skin. when he pulled back, you could already tell a bruise would be there tomorrow, and it made you whine in excitement.

kuroo picked you up by the waist, carrying you over to his bed where he laid you down on your back. your legs were dangling off the side of the bed, and he was still standing, looking over you. he was enjoying this too much already.

he leaned in and gently pushed your legs further and further apart. you felt his large hands begin to stroke the bikini bottoms, pawing over your mound and making you shake as he pushed your legs wider. when he took a finger to push the bottoms to the side, a gasp left your mouth as you threw your head back.

he brought his face even closer to yours. "you look so beautiful, like a sweet little babydoll~" he whispered seductively as he gave your mouth a light peck, moving to start kissing your neck. he took your legs and pushed them up even further, exposing you completely. "are you sure you want this?" he asked in a hushed, teasing voice as he continued to kiss you.

you looked up at him, staring at him with glistening eyes as you nodded your head.

“yes, tetsuro, please”

he stopped moving, and just stared at you for a few seconds. "thank you, baby-" he said in a soft voice and kissed you on the lips. he felt so bad for kenma... but he can't deny the enjoyment he was feeling right now.

kuroo continued to kiss your neck, slowly letting his fingers slide down your body once again, as his other hand went to your leg. you could feel him playing with the tie for the bikini bottoms, toying with it to the point where it was almost loose. it made you realize that his fingers were so long in comparison to yours, and made you wonder how his fingers might feel when he used them on you.

he slowly untied the bikini string, letting them fall, revealing you in your entirety. "you look so gorgeous, kitten," he said in a soft voice as he brought his face closer to yours.

the moment the string was fully untied and the fabric pulled away, he began to run his long fingers all over your body. he moved his other hand, lifting you over to him so that your body was now on top of his. "chibi-chan~" he said in a soft and seductive voice. “i’ve always wanted this~”

you were straddling his head, and you were confused for a moment about why he put you in this position until he started moving his mouth. he slowly stuck his tongue out, licking long stripes down your folds. toying with the skin around your pussy, teasing as he barely missed the areas you wanted him to touch most. you let out one of the loudest whines you’d ever done before, sounding almost pathetic in your want for him.

he laughed, ”you are so loud." he whispered in a teasing tone against your skin, his breath sending chills across your body. he continued to play with you for a bit, licking circles on your thighs and folds until he looked up at you and said “i have an idea."

"do you trust me, baby?" he asked, murmuring between kisses.

you nodded your head fast. “i trust you with everything tetsuro.”

he can't help but feel protective and responsible in your reaction... for some reason, despite how much lust and excitement he felt from seeing you like this. "lie on your stomach for me, baby.”

you lifted your legs from their position around his head, turning around and crawling forward on the bed. you sat on your knees for a second, catching your breath before he pressed you into the position where he wanted you- laying on your stomach, your legs slightly propped up. your head was on a pillow, and you turned to look back at him. ”w-what's next, tetsuro?”

"put your hands behind your back,” he said in a soft voice. he knew you trusted him, but it felt better doing it this way. at least for him.

kuroo tied your hands with his belt so that you could not move them, tugging slightly to make sure it was secure. "is this okay with you?" he asked.

you nodded your head slowly. "y-yeah, it's okay.”

he smirked with a playful and seductive smile, and began to play with you. "oh, look at those asscheeks,” he said in a gravelly voice. "just begging to be kissed and punished... aren't they?” he moved in close to you, and began to make small circles on your thighs with his tongue.

light noises were leaving your throat as you felt his actions. you were unable to do anything, but somehow it turned you on more. kuroo’s tongue kept getting higher and higher as he licked up your thighs, slowly getting closer and closer to your pussy. whenever you would whine, he would spank you lightly, trying to punish you, but somehow it made you feel even better. it felt so naughty while he did things to your body like that.

"do you like that, darling? do you like how i spank you?" he asked in a teasing voice, as he continued to kiss your body, making small circles with his tongue on your thighs and kneading the skin.

“i l-love it, t-tetsuro” your legs squeezed together around his head, trying to keep him there, doing what he was doing. your body was quivering from all the stimulation he was giving you, and it felt so good.

kuroo laughed. "your legs are squeezing me," he said, using his lips to explore you even more. he was sucking on your body so hard that you were sure he’d be leaving marks, nibbling and pulling at your skin with his teeth to make you whimper even more. "i hope you’re prepared for the next part…” he said in a teasing voice.

he kept licking higher and higher, until you finally felt the tip of his tongue swipe through the folds of your pussy, ghosting the entrance. a yelp escaped your mouth, as you whined for him. "yes, tetsuro! yesss…”

he couldn't help but chuckle at the sound you made, smiling as he continued to make circles around the hole. "yes, what, chibi-chan?" he asked with a seducing voice. “do you want more?~”

“m-m-more,” your legs were shaking as you tried to hold yourself at least slightly up for him, trying to shuffle closer to his face.

"you sure, baby? not everyone can handle me.." kuroo said with a smirk on his face. he was teasing you so much, definitely taking his time to prolong the night. "is this really what you want, chibi-chan~?" he said in a slightly condescending tone, as his tongue continued to circle your entrance.

"y-yessss, pleaseeee” you were whining so loud at this point, wanting his tongue to do more

"i don't think you are prepared for this, babydoll... what if i’m too good?" he said, teasing you even more with the tone of his voice before his tongue suddenly made contact with your pussy unannounced.

when his tongue finally went in, you yelped, and then groaned loudly from the contact. ”s-so good, tetsuro-“ 

his tongue licking in and out was unlike anything you'd felt before then. he was sucking and scooping you slick out of your pussy like he was starved, moaning from the taste and sending vibrations across that made you throw your head back in pleasure. when he pulled his head back, his jaw was wet, covered in your slick, and he licked his lips. the sight alone made a loud moan escape your throat.

he let out a deep laugh. "you were not prepared at all, kitten~" kuroo said in a teasing tone. he was definitely not holding back... "i am so proud of you, baby~" he whispered in a soft voice, lowering his head again as he began to work his mouth on you again. his lips wrapped around your clit, suckling it and flicking it quickly with his tongue.

it was so much- his tongue mapping your body, his big callused hands holding you down tightly, the sounds of him moaning into your cunt as he worked your body.

”-tetsuro, i’m-i’m gonna…” 

you were close already.

"yes, darling-" he said in a teasing voice, murmuring against your pussy. "be as loud as you want~," he said in a seductive tone as his tongue began to work you faster, pushing deeper in an attempt to hit your sweet spots. 

is this really happening? if this is real, kenma would be so mad if he knew…

you felt your cunt begin to squeeze tight, and a shrieking yelp left your throat as your body felt like it was exploding. you were panting, your body shaking and spasming, the pressure in your pussy feeling like you were being crushed. when you finally had the ability to open your eyes, you turned to look at him, only to notice he was looking back at you with wide eyes, his face soaking wet. “y-you just squirted… on my face…” he whispered slowly, looking shocked.

he got on the bed and sat down beside you, smiling lightly, but you could tell in his eyes he looked surprised and confused…

he put his hands on your hips and helped you sit up in his lap. you were so small in comparison to his large frame, so petite in his eyes.

"chibi-chan... how did you come so easy like that?" kuroo asked in a teasing voice, as he pulled you in closer to him. he untied your hands and you immediately slumped forward, grabbing his shoulders and breathing hard.

"y-you make me like this tetsuro… thank you.”

he looked at you as his fingers ran through your hair. "is this the first time you have felt like this?" he asked in a softer, almost concerned tone. “was… was i the first?”

you looked up at him and nodded slowly. "that's never happened before… didn't know i could…” you stayed silent for a minute before squeezing your eyes shut. "i-i've never been with anyone before... but i think i'm ready though.”

“... i think you are, too," he said simply, as his eyes stared deeply into yours. you could tell this was something he hadn't expected you to say.

"chibi-chan... i know this sounds weird, but... do you want me to be your first?" kuroo asked slowly... his tone was soft, and it carried some weight to it. like he genuinely wanted to be with you.

you stared into his eyes and nodded slowly. ”yes... i want it to be you." you tightened your hold around him, trying to think of how to say what you felt. “i think i’ve always wanted it to be you.”

he froze. "no way-" he said softly and in a teasing voice, as he held you by the hips again. "do you really mean it, chibi-chan? baby, i… what about kenma? the friendship we all have?”

he paused for a minute, thinking before he spoke again. “was i your first love?" he asked slowly, his voice heavy. you nodded your head.

"from the first time i saw you with kenma, i knew it was you. playing volleyball with my brother, i thought i was just happy that he had a friend. but the more i got to know you, the more i was around you, started to realize it wasn't just happiness. it was love too.”

this moment was... so precious to him, but he also was feeling sad for you... you’d known each other for so many years...

he began smiling. "chibi-chan... can i ask you one last question... before i do anything else?"

"w-what is it tetsuro?”

"this isn't just sex. you actually want me to make love to you, right?" he asked in a whispering voice. "chibi-chan... are you sure you want to do this with me?”

you stared deep into his eyes, nodding your head. "i basically saved myself for you... and you just did all that to me, i wouldn't want it to end now. i wouldn't want this with anyone else.”

saved myself for you…

those four words made this feel like the most special moment of his life. the way you looked at him, and the way your words carried so much meaning... so sweet, yet so tempting. a forbidden relationship… 

"then..." he said in a whispering voice. "chibi-chan... let's do this.” he hoped you wouldn't regret this afterwards, but... he just knew you wouldn't.

kuroo lightly lifted you by the hips, laying you down on the bed and leaning over you. he began to kiss you, slower and with more passion than he had previously. it felt like he was trying to somehow express even more how much this meant to him, how much he actually felt for you. his hands ran up and down your sides, and the only thing that separated you by now were his black boxers…

the sounds of your moans were so precious to him, telling him just how much you wanted him, reminding him how much this whole encounter meant to both of you. he just couldn't resist anymore, and he began to move his hand downward… with the sound of fabric falling, his boxers were now on the floor as well.

your eyes were squeezed shut as he kissed you, and with him propped over your body, you couldn't see anything. but you could definitely feel when he took his boxers off- something warm, heavy, and stiff suddenly hitting your stomach. you opened your mouth as you sucked in a breath, not knowing what he was planning on doing to you next.

he had never seen an expression like this from you. you looked so lovely, yet so confused. you looked... pure in this moment. like an angel atop his bedsheets. and that was precisely what he was about to change right now…

“-tetsuro?”

you looked up at him, staring into his eyes and wrapping your arms around his shoulders tighter. "i'm ready.”

this was it for him- he finally had the opportunity to make love to you. but something about your eyes... the way you looked right at him, and then you said those soft words… he knew he would never forget this moment. "baby... i…” he said in a soft voice. "i love you…” 

and with those words, he claimed you…

your breath caught as you felt him press in, a moan escaping your mouth from the feeling. the head of his cock was fat, pushing in slowly like a suction cup stretching you out. it made your pussy ache, but you were already craving more. the further he pressed in, the more full you felt, your tight cunt sucking him in. "i-i love you too" you whispered out. "y-you feel so good…”

he could feel your body shaking... he could see your eyes slowly looking away as you were trying your best to hide your face. this was so precious to him…

"look at me darling." he whispered in a soft voice as he held you by the hips. "let me see you..." you were so beautiful to him right now... he wanted to replay this moment in his memories for as long as he lived.

"-so big" your voice was coming out in gasps; you weren't expecting this. you looked at him with your eyes glazed over, tears prickling in the corners as you felt him finally stop moving. kuroo was fully sheathed inside you, the heavy tip of his cock pushing against your cervix with a pressure that made you mewl. he slowly began to move, pulling out until just the tip was left in, before slowly pushing back forward. the more he moved, the faster he began to go.

your expressions were so cute... so pure... it was driving him insane. "you're so sweet, kitten." he whispered in a gentle tone. "just like this, okay? let's look at each other.” your eyes shifted so you were staring deeply into each other, and he could feel that you were just as passionate about this as he was. you were just as invested.

when your eyes were locked on each other's, you could almost feel his emotions. his eyes were shining as he stared down at you whenever you’d make a noise. his eyebrows would furrow with concentration whenever he’d speed up or grip you stronger. this was so much more than you could have imagined it would be. and yet somehow you still wanted more. “h-harder…”

he was smiling. "whatever you want, baby…" he said in a gentle, but seductive tone, thrusting with each word. “ask, and i'll do it.” 

he started to pick up his pace, snapping his hips harder to push in with more force. it made you whimper and moan louder, murmuring his name in a string of sloppy words that barely formed real sentences. kuroo wanted more too... his heart felt like it was beating faster and faster by the second.

you could hear the bed shifting now, bumping the wall whenever he’d push forward. the sound of your skin hitting louder as he sped up more. your cunt began to tighten again, like earlier, and you knew this time what was about to happen.

"..tetsuro..." you panted and whined out.

"chibi-chan..?" he asked in a questioning tone. "baby, are you already…” 

no way… he thought as he kept speeding up. he wanted to give you everything that you deserved at this moment. 

your teeth began to grit as you squeezed your face, eyebrows knit and eyes practically glued shut. "i-ah!" your pussy clenched around him as you came again, spraying around his cock and leaving a puddle to form under your ass. he looked down on you, surprised you had come so fast, but that face quickly turned back into a smirk. it made him feel even more confident, even more turned on when he realized he made you cum twice. he kept moving, faster than before.

"oh my god..." he whispered in a soft voice. “baby, i…” 

kuroo felt like he was about to explode. he could barely contain himself as he kept speeding up even more. "please..." he said in a hushed tone. "i feel so close, baby..." his eyes were so focused on you, and his mind was racing. "want... to... to…”

"please tetsuro... want you to cum in me,” you were panting into his ear as he burrowed his head into your neck. you wanted him so bad.

'i'm... so..." his eyes were shut against your neck. “i'm so..." his mind felt like he was floating, unstable and shaky from uncertainty. "close," he grunted out. “chibi-chan…" his movements were so much more forceful.

he was grunting louder now, practically growling in your ear as he was becoming more and more aggressive. you heard him let out a final moan, before stalling his hips and shuttering. you felt his hot ropes of cum begin to shoot into your cunt, filling it with his warmth.

"baby.." he whispered in a deep tone. "you made me... feel so.." he couldn't even explain it with words right now. he pulled away from you, sliding out and laying down on the bed beside you with a smile on his face. his fingers trailed your jawline as you lay there, your head on his chest, until you both fell asleep.

————————

after some time, kenma came over to kuroo's house to find a charger that he accidentally left over. but what he found instead when he walked into the room was his little sister and best friend, asleep on top of each other, obviously not dressed under the blanket they shared.

he shook kuroo lightly, trying to wake him up.

kuroo lazily opened his eyes, as he slowly turned to look at him. he gave him a soft smile. "oh... hey kenma..." he said in a calm voice. "what do you need?”

and that's when he looked down and remembered. he saw that you were lying on top of him, barely covered... was this really happening?

kenma slowly walked closer to the bed, staring at what was in front of him. "i came over to find my charger, but i guess i found my sister too…” he looked between you and kuroo. "you two slept together, didn't you? it'd explain the lack of clothes.”

kuroo felt his cheeks heat up, blushing even redder than they were prior. "yes kenma... we... we did." he said softly as he turned to look at him. "chibi-chan and i... i’ve been keeping feelings for her for a while now, and she did for me too…” he really, really didn't want to make this sound awkward, but his friend deserved the truth.

kenma stared down at you two, seeming to try and process what was happening before him. he stuttered a few times, trying to grasp what to say, before he finally spoke up. "just don't hurt her, okay? if you do, i'm going to purposefully send you bad sets for the rest of the season.”

when he looked back at kuroo’s face, he rolled his eyes before smiling lightly. “and clean her up, would you? i can see your… leftovers on her, it's kinda gross.”

kuroo blushed deeper at kenma’s observation, looking down to notice the small puddle of cum sitting next to your thigh that had obviously dripped out of you.

"we get it, kenma, haha." he whispered in a joking tone as he rubbed your back. "we'll take care of things now.” he turned his head to see your face, you really were asleep. “chibi-chan?”

kenma smiled as he grabbed his charger from the table, shaking his head while shutting the door and leaving the house. you were curled up in kuroo's lap, breathing slowly as you dreamed.

you really were fast asleep... kuroo’s heart was still pounding. this really happened…

he looked down at you, your beautiful face soft and peaceful. he fought the urge to kiss you, not wanting to wake you up yet.

“sleeping beauty…" he whispered as he gently caressed your hair. for the time being, at least, he just wanted to hold you close to him. you felt so precious, and you were finally his.

i guess i’m doing tags now bc i was asked lol, leave a comment or note in reblogs if you want me to add you to the list for future fics! - @tsukiran @msbyomimi

a/n: this one was a bit shorter than the last fic, but it’s bc i was writing another one at the same time & that one’s gonna be multiple chapters so uh yah prep for that lol

[happilyhertale]

Sense of duty 2 - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

Summary: After your mother Rhaenyra learned of the secret love between you and your personal knight, Aemond, she is determined to end this relationship. But Aemond is also determined that he cannot allow this to happen.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Minors do not continue reading!

Author’s note: Hey you (:

After a long wait, now the second part of "Sense of Duty". I hope you like it!

To understand the events and the story, the first part should be read beforehand. English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 5.4 k

Other stories of mine

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A heavy silence envelops the space between you, forcing you to breathe carefully. The weight of the silence is in the air, making it difficult to return your mother's gaze directly. Instead, your eyes are transfixed on Aemond. He does not notice the palpable tension, or perhaps he cleverly hides it, for he remains steadfast and fixes his gaze unwaveringly on his mother.

You want to do the same and turn your gaze forward again. Alicent's eyes are closed and this frightens you more than her usual, desperate, rather suffering look.

Your gaze flits to your mother. She looks stoic. You can't place this look. You have never been in such a situation before, never seen her look at you like that.

But suddenly she shakes her head slightly

"No," Rhaenyra simply says.

"You are not getting married," she adds.

Now you feel anger bubbling up inside you. Your gaze turns angry and you face her.

"What?" you say, trying to sound decisive.

Your original plan seems to be fading, but you can't let it.

"He took my maidenhead. I have to marry him. I am carrying his child," you say.

Your mother looks at you and then lets her gaze slide to your belly.

"Your belly is flat. It's your first child, your belly will remain flat for a while too, before anyone realises you are pregnant, you are married," she says

Your breath catches in your throat. You feel your body going numb.

"Mother! Lord Cregan will notice if I am heavily pregnant at the wedding! Getting betrothed and planning a royal wedding takes time," you say angrily.

She looks you straight in the eye again, "Then seduce him. Sleep with him before you marry," she says to you.

"After all, you could share a bed with Aemond... Even though he is actually your personal knight and you are not married," she says and her gaze goes back and forth between you and Aemond.

Your eyes grow wide and you feel sick. The thought of sleeping with another man turns your stomach. You just stare at your mother, you've never seen her so angry.

"No," Aemond suddenly chimes in. Again a silence settles over the room and Alicent, who had been keeping her eyes closed all this time, suddenly looks up.

"I am the father of this child and no cheap lord from the north will present this child as his own. This child will be born with silver hair and purple eyes," he says coolly.

"Aemond! Haven't you done enough already!" Alicent says suddenly.

Your mother's gaze is now fixed on Aemond. Again your breath catches. Your fingers gently grasp Aemond's fingers. Gently he encloses your fingers with his. Your mother is not unaware of this gentle gesture, but she does not let herself be swayed.

"We need the alliance with the North. We need the assurance that the North will not go rogue," she says. Again there is silence for some time until she continues, "This child may come into the world with the characteristics of the Targaryen family. But in this case, it will have the characteristics of y/n. Of y/n alone," she says.

"But, Aemond, you will be able to see your child. You will remain y/n's personal knight. You will continue to do your duty and protect her and the child. But she will marry someone else," your mother says to Aemond.

Tears come to your eyes. You have a lump in your throat that makes it hard to talk.

Even to breathe...

"I will send a raven to the north today. We'll invite the Starks to plan the wedding," your mother turns her gaze on you again, "Y/n. I love you. To you this decision will seem hard. But you are heir to the throne, we have duties that must be fulfilled. And you will sleep with Lord Cregan once he is here," she says, almost gently.

It seems contradictory to you how gently she sounds, yet what words leave her mouth.

You look to the side. Tears threaten to flow from your eyes and you feel yourself being overcome by nausea.

Before anyone can say anything, you storm out of the council chambers. Despite your mothers' protests, Aemond storms after you.

His voice echoes, pleading your name again and again, but you do not hear it. Lost in the whirlpool of your own racing thoughts, you press forward, desperate to reach the comfort of your chambers. With all your might, you propel yourself forward, driven by an urgency that consumes you. Prince Aemond lingers behind you, only a breath away, but always unable to seize you. The watchful guards you pass hesitate, torn between the need to protect you from potential harm and the possibility that your quickened pace is merely an expression of your own urgent affairs. Finally, they decide not to obstruct Aemond's path.

When you finally reach your chambers, you rush straight into the adjoining bathroom. The relentless wave of nausea will not let you go, and with an indomitable will you manage to find the sink just in time to release the contents of your stomach.

You don't know if it is because the thought of offering yourself to a man you don't want in your bed disgusts you or because you are pregnant.

Your eyes are closed and you are breathing heavily. Saliva pools in your mouth. You gasp and try to normalise your breathing.

When you hear noises behind you. You open your eyes and look slightly over your shoulder. Aemond is standing there, just looking at you. You have never seen such an expression on his face. A mixture of sadness and anger. Neither of you says anything. You look ahead again and sigh.

You wash your face with the water from a water bowl next to the sink.

You turn to Aemond and lean against the sink. He is still standing in the doorway.

"This is terrible," you say quietly. You drop your gaze to the floor.

"The most horrible scenario that could ever happen..." you continue quietly.

"We should never have made love... Never..." you say, your voice threatening to fail you as tears come to your eyes again.

But then Aemond comes rushing towards you.

"No, no, no, no..." he says softly but firmly. His hands gently cup your face.

"Don't say that. Don't even think that. Never. I'll find a solution, I promise you that. Do you hear me?" he says, kissing your forehead gently again and again.

Your eyes are closed, but you nod slightly.

Unbeknownst to you, Aemond's mind is consumed with racing thoughts. Since your meeting in the Council Chambers, where it became painfully clear to him that Rhaenyra would not allow your union, a singular determination has gripped him. He is driven to find a solution, a way to avert the impending tragedy.

Once Aemond has made sure that you have removed your tight dress and exchanged it for a comfortable nightgown, he helps you to lie down in your bed. Soon he leaves your chambers.

Lying on your side, you snuggle into the warmth of your blanket, seeking comfort. You press your face into the pillow where Aemond was still lying the previous night. When your love was still undisturbed and surrounded by a lightness.

As you bury your face deeper into the pillow, his pleasant scent permeates your senses. Tears well up in your eyes and you cry softly into the fabric, overwhelmed by a wave of emotion.

All day long you lay in your bed, untouched by the offers of food graciously handed to you by the industrious servants. Your gaze never lifted from its sombre position.

In a fleeting moment your mother entered your chambers and settled herself on the edge of the bed. With tender affection her hand caressed your head and comforted your troubled spirit. She told you that the letter had been sent to the North, and assured you that it was understood that if you wished to continue to have Aemond "by your side". Her understanding was unwavering and she assured you that disappointment had no place in her heart. Nevertheless, she stressed the importance of exercising discretion in such matters. But you did not answer her, instead a quiet sob erupted from within you.

How could she ever truly understand the anguish that raged in your soul? To have to be bound to a man for whom you harbour no affection, while you secretly harbour love for another man?

In the evening you are still alone in your chambers when servants enter. You are lying on your back, your tears have long since dried on your face. You look up at the ceiling. You almost didn't notice the servants, but then a voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

"Princess y/n. Prince Aemond sent us. He has instructed us to draw you a bath," the servant says to you.

You avert your gaze from the ceiling and look irritatedly at the servants. Why should you take a bath now?

But when you think about it for a moment, you suddenly find the idea very inviting.

You sit up and get out of bed. Slowly, your bare feet tread the cold floor and you go into the adjacent bathroom. The servants have already put water in the tub. You see warm steam rising into the air. Lavender oil is added to the water and the gentle scent immediately hits your nose.

You take off your nightgown as you walk towards the tub. Slowly you let yourself sink into the warm water. You close your eyes and immediately feel your tense muscles relax. You lie in the tub, trying to transfer the relaxation to your thoughts as well. Trying to push away the thoughts that keep focusing on what will be required of you in the future.

You open your eyes, slightly annoyed, as you realise that your thoughts cannot be calmed. You look down at your body, which is enveloped by the warm water. You see the faint marks on your thigh that remind you of the way Aemond had grabbed you just a day before... Loved you. You don't want another man's marks left there.

As the water gets cooler, you get up from the tub. You take a towel that the servants have placed next to the tub and dry yourself. You go back to your bedroom. But you stop as you walk towards your bed and see that there is a dress lying there. You look a little irritated. There is a note on it.

"Wear this. I'll come and see you later. A."

You look a little irritated and turn the note around, but there is nothing else written on it.

Why is Aemond asking you to wear a special dress?

You look at the dress and let your fingers wander over the fabric of the dress. The light silk fabric feels soft but sturdy. It is black, with red appliqu��s. It shimmers slightly. It is a beautiful dress.

So you dry off and put the dress on. Just as you are combing your hair, Aemond comes into your chambers.

You look at him and you can't help but smile as he stands in your chambers. Almost completely, the heaviness in your chest disappears.

He looks serious. But when he sees your smile, he can't help it and returns your smile. Slowly he comes towards you.

"You look beautiful," he whispers, gently stroking your cheek as he stands in front of you.

You blush slightly.

"Do you have something planned for us? Why would I bathe and wear this dress?" you ask as you can no longer hold back curiosity.

"I didn't want you to smell unpleasant," he says, smiling slightly.

You look indignant, but have to laugh slightly. You lightly punch his arm.

He chuckles lightly.

"Take your warm coat and come with me," is all he says, walking to the door of your chambers.

Now you look after him, irritated.

"What?" you ask quietly.

He turns to you, "You've lain around long enough. We're going for a ride. It will take your mind off things," he says with a smile and only then do you notice that he is wearing his riding clothes.

You try to read something from his look, but you don't get a chance. So you sigh and take your coat and follow him.

The corridors are quiet and dimly lit. Aemond knows exactly which paths to choose so as not to encounter anyone. As you step out of the keep, you just look at him questioningly.

"Where are we going?" you ask him.

But he only smiles.

You quickly notice that you are getting closer to the hill of Rhaenys.

You smile, "Where are we going?" you try again. But he just smiles and shakes his head slightly. He takes your hand firmly in his. You enter the Dragonpit. Aemond walks purposefully towards the familiar corner where Vhagar lies. A deep grumble is heard as you approach the huge dragon. Aemond gently strokes the scales of her neck as he stands beside her. He leads you further to the ladder and helps you climb onto Vhagar. Not much later, as you sit in the saddle, Aemond is also sitting behind you.

"Is it safe to ride a dragon while pregnant?" you ask with a smile on your lips as you turn your face to him.

He smiles slightly, "As long as you don't fall off the dragon..." he replies to you. You chuckle lightly.

"Dohaeras, Vhagar“, Aemond speaks. (Serve, Vhagar)

"Issa iā lyka bantis… maghagon īlva naejot Dragonstone…," he continues. (It is a quiet night... Take us to Dragonstone)

You turn your head towards him

"Dragonstone?" you ask "Are you kidnapping me?" but you have to smile slightly

"To Dragonstone? Then I would rather take you to Essos," he says softly and kisses your cheek.

You feel the huge dragon begin to rise. How the muscles start to work and Vhagar moves towards the exit. As Vhagar steps outside, you notice that the sun has given way to the moon.

Vhagar is fast in the air despite her enormous size. Lithely she glides through the air while Aemond holds you close to his body. You see the vast sea below you and the stars in the sky. You can't help but smile. The heaviness in your chest has almost completely disappeared and Aemond has actually done it, your thoughts actually let themselves be directed to something else.

As the castle and cliffs of Dragonstone become visible, you feel an unfamiliar excitement within you. The closer you get the larger and more imposing the castle seems. Vhagar heads for the green space around the castle and lands almost gently.

Aemond's hands release you and you climb down from Vhagar. You smile and look at Aemond, who descends behind you.

"Are you going to tell me what we are doing here?" you ask him with a smile.

He looks at you, "The home of our ancestors..." he says looking at you with a smile.

"I am well aware of that...", you answer him, almost cheekily.

"This is where your mother already married Daemon in a secret ceremony..," he says quietly to you and takes your hand in his.

Slowly it dawns on you.

"What...?" you whisper.

He puts his other hand on your cheek, standing close to you.

"I will not let you marry a Lord of the North. No other man will sleep with you... You are carrying our child... And no other man will claim to be the father..." he whispers to you. With each word your lips come closer until he kisses you slowly and passionately. His thumb glides gently over your cheek.

Somewhat involuntarily you interrupt the kiss, looking into each other's eyes. His hand is still on your cheek.

"Ready?" he whispers.

You nod and bite your lip lightly.

He holds out his arm to you and you take it. He leads you to the beach at Dragonstone. But as you walk along the beach, you notice that there are small torches set up to guide your way.

You look up at Aemond and smile, "Did you give the order for this?" you ask him quietly.

But he just shrugs his shoulders slightly and smiles.

You clasp his arm tighter and smile as you continue to walk along the torches.

As you approach a small hill, you see that there is a septon there.

"Unfortunately, I did not have the desired time to have a Valyrian-style wedding performed... But I think it will do for now," he whispers in your ear as you approach the septon. Tears come to your eyes, but this time they are tears of joy. You look at Aemond and smile. You just nod and gently kiss his lips.

You stand before the septon. You hear the waves crashing against the cliffs around you. But you only have eyes for Aemond. How he smiles at you gently and lovingly.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger – hear now their vows," you hear the septon say.

As if of your own accord, you speak your words, "I belong to him. He is mine, from this day until the end of my days," comes from your lips as you gaze deeply into each other's eyes.

The next thing you know, you are aware only of Aemond's lips on yours. The kiss is gentle, but greedy. Aemond pulls you towards him and your lips can't seem to get enough of each other.

You hear the septon clear his throat, but neither of you pays attention. Passionately, Aemond claims your lips and eventually the Septon seems to understand and moves away.

"Aemond... let's go inside," you breathe as he slides his lips down your neck.

But he only whispers a "no" into your neck. Slowly he pushes you down into the sand.

"Aemond...," you just gasp.

A "mhm," sounds from him. You kneel in front of each other and kiss. His hand is on the back of your neck, pressing you closer to him. Your breathing gets heavier and you push him back slightly, he lowers himself onto his back and you sit astride him. Your kisses don't let up. You hear the waves crashing against the cliffs around you.

His arms wrap around your waist, he pulls you closer to him. His kisses become greedier. His hands clasp your curves, pressing you firmly against his crotch, and you clearly feel his hard arousal. You whimper slightly as he gently bites your lip.

You move your hips rhythmically against his hard length and feel your small clothes moisten further. You feel Aemond's hands on your back as he works on the laces of your dress. He opens it and slides it down your shoulders. His lips leave your lips and land on the soft skin of your shoulder. Tender kisses grace your skin. Your eyes are closed and you moan lightly as his lips glide over your cleavage. His lips cup your nipple and you bite your lip as you feel him nibble lightly.

"Aemond," you breathe.

But all you hear from him is a deep "mhm".

As he turns to your other nipple, his hands pull your dress down further. You moan softly.

Only the stars and the moon light up the sky above you, the waves crashing against the cliffs around you, as Aemond suddenly looks up at you. He is breathing slightly heavily, his lips slightly parted. You bite your lip lightly. Slowly, you take off his eyepatch and place it beside you. You gently run your thumb over his scar that adorns half his face.

"I love you," he simply whispers. A warmth spreads through you and you let your lips slide onto his. But more gently this time.

You start to open his waistcoat. You slide it down over his shoulder. Aemond takes it off and lays it in the sand next to you. Your hands are already on his shirt and open it. It doesn't take you long to slide it down over his shoulders as well. Your hands glide over his firm chest. Over every little scar. Over the finely defined muscles. Until you reach his trousers and start to open them.

You notice Aemond smiling slightly against your lips as you reach into his trousers and grasp his hard member. As you begin to stroke it, over and over, up and down, you feel a slight rumble forming in his chest as his breathing becomes heavier. You move your hand up and down faster and he moans softly.

Aemond's hands slide over your thighs, pushing your dress up further. Gently he pulls your small clothes over your thighs and you help him to take them off. He grips your thighs and you whimper slightly. His hands slide to the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him. You understand his intention and pull his trousers down a little, exposing his cock.

You are both breathing heavily now. Aemond leans forward and captures your lips with his, his tongue slides out, licks over your lower lip before he gently plucks it with his teeth, a whimper escapes your lips. And a wild game of tongues and teeth erupts.

You position his hot length in front of your entrance, but not without letting him slide through your wet arousal first. Now you both moan out.

Slowly you lower yourself onto him.

"Fuuck... you were made to take my cock..," you hear from Aemond and he grips your thighs tighter.

You whimper just slightly. Aemond's cock pushes inch by inch deeper into you. The familiar stretching of your wet walls makes you moan. As he fills you completely you begin to move your hips rhythmically. Aemond's hands slide further up and now firmly grip your ass, trying to set a faster rhythm. You whimper again. Aemond starts thrusting into you. With each thrust he meets your movement and your clit rubs against the base of his cock.

You moan loudly and hear him grunt as he leans in and kisses your breasts.

When suddenly Aemond grabs you firmly by your hips and lays you backwards. You are now lying with your back on his legs. You look at him a little startled at first, but his gaze is fixed on your womanhood. He watches intently as he disappears into you again and again. He grunts and moans as he lets you slide onto his cock.

You moan as his thumb suddenly rests on your sensitive pearl and makes circular, firm movements on it.

He notices how you start to clench around his cock.

He makes you slam down on his cock faster and with each thrust his thumb rubs further over your clit. With each thrust, your breasts give in to the movement and bounce. When Aemond looks up for a moment, he is overwhelmed and moans.

"Aemond... Aemond...", you only whimper. But all you hear from him is another grunt. His grunts and the wet sounds made by his thrusts reach your ears. They make the inside of your thighs tremble.

And then you come. Your moans are backed by the waves around you. You grab his forearms and moan. Your eyes are closed and you are breathing heavily.

Aemond moans out as well, making you slam down on his cock a few more times before he comes with a loud groan and pumps his seed into you.

His thrusts become softer and you hear him breathing heavily. When your eyes meet, he smiles almost shyly.

"Consummated marriage for the first time... And it was almost romantic," he says softly.

You chuckle softly, "We've had many romantic times," you reply.

Only a mhm sounds from him as the corners of his mouth, pull up slightly at the thought of it.

He spreads his waistcoat and shirt out beside you. He grabs you lightly by your thighs and signals you to lie down on his clothes. You obey and lie down there. He lies down beside you and takes you in his arms. You lie there, his fingers gently gliding over your arm. Your head lies on his chest and you let your fingers glide gently over his chest. Neither of you says anything. You just enjoy the calm. The calm before the storm.

The return flight passes almost unnoticed, as if time itself were but a fleeting whisper. Were it not for the gentle caress of the cool wind enveloping your being, one might wonder if Vhagar really flew off. But such trivial considerations fade, for your mind is captivated, utterly consumed by the enchantment of the moment. For almost the entire flight, your eyes are fixed on Aemond's face. Each tender kiss on Aemond's face becomes a symphony of affection, a delicate dance of passion and tenderness. Aemond's laughter echoes softly through the air. But not once does one of your kisses go unanswered.

When you land back at King's Landing, Aemond helps you get off Vhagar. Aemond doesn't hesitate long and leads you into the Council chambers. While you are still on your way, he catches a servant and asks him to deliver the news to your mothers that you are waiting for them in the Council Chambers.

Aemond stands beside you. He gently strokes your cheek. As he kisses you, his hand finds its way to your abdomen and gently caresses it.

"It will be fine," he whispers against your lips.

When suddenly the doors open and you both look up.

"Aemond, why are we here again?", Alicent asks you as she enters the council chambers with Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra immediately notices the closeness between you and Aemond that existed only a moment before.

"Do you want to talk about your pregnancy again? The letter has been sent, Lord Cregan is probably already on his way," your mother says to you.

You take a deep breath.

"There will be no wedding...," you say firmly, "... at least not between me and Lord Cregan"

"Y/n...", your mother says, "...we have already discussed this... you...", but you interrupt your mother

"We got married," you finally say.

There is silence. Only the sudden gasp of Alicent can be heard as she reaches for the back of the chair that is in front of her.

Your mother looks at you, "You didn't do that... You wouldn't have dared," she says almost threateningly.

Now Aemond speaks up "Yes we did. I took her to Dragonstone and married her. The gods are our witnesses," Aemond says.

"Aemond!" gasps Alicent again, "Do you realise what you have done!"

"Yes, mother! I have married the woman I love. Who carries my child!" hisses Aemond to her.

Rhaenyra regains her composure and looks at you.

"You have no idea what you have done," she says to you.

"Lord Cregan is on his way, he is expecting a betrothal... a wedding," she says to you.

"And I told you I would not marry him," you reply.

Rhaenyra shakes her head slightly and looks at you.

"Mother... I love Aemond. I carry his child within me. I will not let my child be raised by any Lord of the North.... Aemond is the father of this child and my husband," you say.

Alicent looks as if she might burst into tears at any moment. You almost feel sorry for her.

Aemond seems to notice this too.

"Mother..." he says almost gently.

"Let Lord Cregan come to the capital.... I will settle this," he says.

The turbulent aftermath, however, proves to be far more eye-catching than you had imagined.

Lord Cregan's journey from Winterfell to King's Landing spanned several weeks. Unfortunately, it quickly became apparent that this period of time provided ample opportunity to spread the news of your sacred union with Aemond far and wide. Like a whisper carried on the wind, the news passed from one mouth to another of the common people and aroused a curiosity. At the same time, an enigmatic tapestry of rumours unfolds, weaving a compelling tale of the purpose and motives that led to your secret marriage.

Why would a Targaryen princess, heir to the throne, rush to marry her uncle? Is she possibly pregnant?

Aemond's tireless efforts to debunk these rumours prove futile time and again. Each time he tries to trace their origins, he finds that he is mistaken and unable to locate the true source.

Thus the veil of rumour envelops your young happiness and suggests that you have already given in to carnal temptations before your sacred union.

The highlight of the story, though, is the arrival of Lord Cregan, who attracts great attention with his presence. As he walks the hallowed halls of the mighty red keep, his every step is accompanied by hushed murmurs.

But before he can converse with a member of the royal family, Lord Cregan, driven by curiosity, turns his attention to a simple servant. At that moment, the truth is thrust before him like a bitter potion – the arduous journey was in vain. The prospect of uniting with the Heiress of the Iron Throne, the object of his desire, is dashed. He learns that you are already married to Prince Aemond.

A tempestuous storm brews within Lord Cregan, the fires of anger and betrayal threaten to consume him. In a near frenzy, he urgently demands that the servant lead him to Princess Rhaenyra. The obedient servants escort him to the opulent council chambers, the scene of momentous decisions and momentous encounters.

When you hear that Lord Cregan has arrived, you become nervous. You immediately go to the council chambers. As the doors are opened for you, you hear a loud discussion. Lord Cregan is standing in front of Aemond and your mother. Alicent stands a little apart.

"I should marry the Heiress of the Iron Throne!" says Lord Cregan angrily. Rhaenrya nods at him.

When Lord Cregan hears the door and averts his gaze from your mother, he sees you.

His gaze becomes almost gentle until he sees the slight bulge under your dress.

His gaze falls on your mother again, "She had to marry him? Right?" he asks her.

Aemond's gaze, standing next to your mother, darkens.

"Because she's a whore and led her uncle to bed," Lord Cregan says, looking at Aemond.

Your gasp is accompanied by the sound of Alicent slapping her hand over her mouth.

The look Aemond gives Lord Cregan makes you shiver. And before you can even react, you hear a blade being drawn.

"Say this again and it will be the last thing you say," Aemond hisses as he presses the blade into Lord Cregan's neck.

"Aemond!" shouts Alicent.

"Aemond put the blade down," Rhaenyra tries to say calmly.

"Do it, Prince Aemond! Instigate a war with the North!" says Lord Cregan almost promptingly.

Aemond's eyes dart to you for a second. But that second is enough to signal him not to do it. You are paralysed, but you shake your head, barely perceptibly.

"Aemond, control yourself!" says Alicent, trying again to get his attention.

"She's not a whore! She is my wife!" hisses Aemond.

"I know Aemond... Please... Don't do anything rash," Alicent says, gently grabbing his arm.

Aemond reluctantly lowers his blade.

He looks furious, not letting Lord Cregan out of his sight, but he takes a step back.

Alicent steps towards Lord Cregan, who is also seething with rage.

"Lord Cregan, if you are still interested, I would like to discuss something with you that I have been talking about with Princess Rhaenyra," Alicent says to Lord Cregan. Lord Cregan averts his gaze from Aemond and looks at Alicent.

"What are you going to recite now? I should marry the Heiress to the Iron Throne," he asks her, still angry.

Aemond comes over to you and gently grabs your arm. He leads you to the door. You stare at him as he leads you. He is still angry, but you notice that he is slowly becoming calmer.

"I likewise have a beautiful daughter who is still looking for an honourable husband..." you hear Alicent say to Lord Cregan as Aemond leads you out of the council chambers.

Your eyes fall on Aemond as the door slams shut behind you.

"Helaena is to marry Lord Cregan?" you ask.

Aemond nods curtly.

"He will have his Targaryen princess, and the North remains our ally," he says to you. You are speechless, but you nod briefly. Aemond's gaze meets yours. He smiles slightly and leans down. Gently he encloses your lips with his.

"And you will remain my princess... my wife," he says softly.

"Your princess… whom you must continue to protect, dutiful as you are," you say softly. You hear him chuckle slightly.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 5.4 K Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. (Reader discretion is advised). Basically, it's a rough night. Prompt: You promissed you'd get that moonflower, remember? This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 20: Bad Moon Rising

November 22nd, 1976 - Monday (Full Moon)

Kless had kept his promise, 3 days ago you had gotten a package from him, an old brown owl had delivered it, biting you sharply when you tried to take it from his beak, he flew off right after, just as you brought your finger to your mouth to try and lick the wound clean. You opened the thick envelope and found a small notebook –muggle by the looks of it– with an interesting black and white pattern and Damocles Belby’s name on a small square at the front. You opened it and started looking through hundreds of notes on werewolves. On the kind of food they ate, the effects it had on them and more. If you thought your research had been thorough, his was pretty much the bible of werewolves. He had also added a very in-depth research on the Moonflower near the end of the notebook.

A note fell from it as you flipped the pages: Your turn.

You stared at the information a little longer, entering an almost hyper-focused mode as you tried to learn a bit more about the Moonflower so you’d be faster to find it, that you barely realised someone had sat next to you until they spoke. 

“What are you looking at luv?” Remus asked as he peered through his spot to look at the notebook you had on your hands. 

You almost jumped out of your skin when you realised who the person sitting in front of you was. You froze, you couldn’t tell him it was a potions project, he was your godricdamn partner in that class. Freaking James Potter, you thought. “It’s uh… Kless lent me his notes for my herbology project.” 

“Kless?” Remus asked with a frown. 

“Damocles Belby, from 7th,” You said, raising the notebook so he could see the cover.

“Damocles?” Remus repeated as if he was still trying to remember who he was, “When did you even befriend him?”  

“It was kind of an accident,” you told him, and that wasn’t a lie, “he was nice enough to help me pick up my stuff when… It doesn’t matter, actually.” 

He then pulled the notebook down a little “I’ve seen that flower,” he told you, pointing at the drawing of the Moonflower. 

“Really? Where?” You asked excitedly. 

“Grows in the forbidden forest.” 

“Thought it wasn’t a good place for humans,” you tsked. 

“Yeah, that’s how I found out,” he sassed back. 

You shook your head with a smile as you stared at him “So it grows there?” 

Remus nodded, “Sirius picked it up once, the idiot ate it and had this pretty heavy trip.” 

“He did?” You asked, eyebrows raised “Where?” 

“On a small glade, they’re common on glades,” he explained “Where they can bask in moonlight.” 

“Oh that’s super useful actually!” you said with a smile. 

He narrowed his eyes at you “You wouldn’t be thinking of getting some, right? You know how dangerous the Forbidden Forest is.” 

“Me? That’s ridiculous!” You said, pitch a little higher than normal. “I know it’s no place for humans,” you said with a little nod, managing to level your tone “It’s all for investigation,” you added in the end with a little smile. 

Remus looked at you, a little tilt in his head before adding “You wouldn’t do anything that stupid.”

You nodded lips closed tightly, taking a deep breath as you did. Remus was about to say something else, but Sirius arrived, planting a kiss on your cheek and he completely forgot about it. The moon was close, and seeing him be so domestic with you just made him jealous and of the two of you, to his dismay. 

“What you up to Starshine?” Sirius asked as he took a seat beside you. 

You closed the notebook “Just studying,” you said, “got some notes borrowed and I’m reading through them,” Sirius hummed in response and wrapped his arms around you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He was clingy today, “rough day?” 

“A little,” he whispered. 

Remus turned to the side and pulled out a piece of parchment, writing something down on it before turning it into a paper plane and sending it off. Sirius, still with his arms around you, unwrapped one of his arms ever so slightly and pointed at the paper “Who is that for?”   

“Alice,” Remus answered, a little more bitterly than he intended to. 

“Oh,” Sirius said simply before changing the topic altogether. 

Fast forward to now, you were already preparing for your little adventure. You had actually told Marlene you were sneaking out into the library, so the girls didn’t worry about you not being back at the dorms on time. Marlene wouldn’t ask too many questions which is why you’d decided to tell her instead of Mary or even Lily. 

You had been hiding in the girls’ bathroom when Myrtle popped her head out from the toilet “Someone’s sneaking out of school today,” she said in a sing-song voice. She wasn’t being loud like she was normally, which you were thankful for. Inviting her to the Halloween Party had been a good idea after all. 

“I need to get something from the forbidden forest.” You said, sitting over one of the toilets and closing the door. 

“Tonight’s a dangerous night,” She told you, “You wouldn’t want to end up like me.”

You raised an eyebrow “Would you rather I stay here and chat with you all night?”

She shrugged “It’d certainly be safer,” she said with a little nod. 

“Unfortunately I can’t, I need this thing to help my friend.” 

She hummed “Of course, the brave (Y/N) would risk her life for a friend.” 

You scoffed, “I’m not risking my life.”

“Of course, because the Forbidden Forest is one of the safest places in the castle,” she said with a tight-lipped smile. 

You huffed in response, “You’re not going to deter me from going.” 

She looked at you innocently “I’d never dream of such a thing.” She seemed to think for a second and puffed her chest as if taking a deep breath -a rather silly move for a ghost- “Just be careful… you’re not the only one roaming outside of the castle tonight,” she said before disappearing dramatically. 

You stared at the place she had gone to before checking the pocket watch. It was time, you took a deep breath and cast a disillusionment charm around you. Carefully opening the door of the stall before walking outside of the bathrooms. Once there, you looked to both sides, making sure there was nobody around before starting to walk the path you had carefully traced as you planned your outing. 

Once you reached the Quad, you pulled your broom from under a couple of dried leaves that you’d use to hide it and took off towards the forest. You landed close to the spot where you had found Fang and threw the broom into the ground. You stood there, breathing in the natural scents of the pine trees. The forest was dark, you hadn’t taken any lanterns along since you did not want to be spotted, which is why you took some time to let your eyes adjust as much as possible. You looked up at the sky, it was still cloudy and the moon wasn’t out yet either so you turned back to look at the forest and smiled, it looked as dangerous as alluring. 

You perked your ears, silence. 

Your turn, you remembered Kless’s note, and finally walked inside. Casting a footstep silencing spell to make sure the crunch under the leaves was unnoticeable.  

The disillusionment charm still cloaked you, rendering you invisible as you navigated through the dense forest. You moved slowly, cautiously, looking carefully through the trees attempting to find a clearing. That’s when you heard something behind you, you spun around, alarmed, trying to identify the source. 

Two powerful arms encircled you. From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of ashy blond curls but it was the smell that gave him away, a thick cologne that would smell nice if it wasn’t for the fact that he had threatened you while wearing it - Evan Rosier. 

You attempted to bite his hand, but he only pressed it harder as two other figures appeared from the trees. "Well, well, look who we have here," Crouch sneered, a wicked smile on his face. "Out of the castle and at this hour?”

Your breath quickened as you assessed the situation. Evan's grip was relentless, he was grabbing you with such force you were sure it would leave a bruise, and you could barely move your hand toward your wand, still concealed in your pocket. You could feel his chest behind you, firm and muscly –like James’– but Evan had you pressed against him, squishing you so tightly that you wanted nothing more than to push him off, but you couldn’t, your strength was no match.

“Finite incantatem,” Barty said, waving his hand over you and making you completely visible. 

“She’s all warm and snuggly, perhaps she’s out to snog her boyfriends,” Mulciber said bitterly. 

“Are you?” Barty asked with a menacing grin. 

Evan loosened his grip just a little and that allowed you to nod, “They’re waiting for me,” you lied, voice coming out muffled from Evan’s hand, still over your mouth. 

Barty chuckled in response, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Deceptive little thing," he taunted. "Didn't you say you saw them at the castle, Severus?"

A final figure came from the shadows “I did.” 

“Snape,” you said with a gulp, he was probably the only person you’d be able to reason with, “I’m not looking for trouble–“ 

“Shut it!” Evan cut you off, pressing his fingers to your jaw and jerking your head back. Your jaw clenching so tight you feared you may break a tooth.

You gulped, nor being able to hold a straight face and pulling a grimace instead, brows furrowed and breath heavy. But you did as told, extending your hand towards your pocket as you attempted to distract them. When you finally managed to reach the edge of your wand, you pointed it towards the tallest figure, and whispered “Opugno.” Suddenly the leaves on the floor started to move in circles and surrounded the boy, you smiled and pointed your wand straight to Barty but he was faster to notice your intentions “Accio dragon scale wand,” he said, and your wand pulled out of your pocket, flying straight towards his hands. 

“Were you trying to distract us?” He said, waving your wand in the air, you looked to the side, breath heavy as you tried to think of ways to escape. 

“Finite incantatem,” Severus said as he pointed his wand towards Muciber, who had been scraped by sharp rocks and leaves from the forest’s floor.

You huffed and tried to wiggle out of Evan’s grasp, Barty laughed again, “Well, I might have not been able to throw you off your broom back at the game, but you’re out of luck now. I see no protection charms around.” 

You looked at him as realisation hit “The jerking of my broom… It was you!” Barty licked his lips before bowing sardonically as he did, he was proud, “What… what protection charm?”

Barty raised an eyebrow “You didn’t know?” You shook your head, trying to think of what he could be referring to “Your stupid little bow.” 

Confusion swept over you, and you felt Evan's grip slightly loosened, he had been too interested in the conversation. Seizing the opportunity, you elbowed him sharply in the gut and made a run for it. However, you felt a sharp, searing pain in your back and collapsed to the ground, trembling. BIood filled your mouth, and you realised you’d parted your lip.

Barty caught up with you shortly after, tsking disapprovingly as he stared at you from above “Did you really think you could run from us? With no wand?!?” he mocked. Crouching beside you as he stared, tilting his head just a little and smiling when he noticed you tried to push yourself up and failed. “I’ve heard you like inviting ghosts to parties.” 

You turned your head to him “What are you–” 

Evan smiled, he was still standing but managed to guess Barty’s thoughts “How about a little tour in the Shrieking Shack?” 

“The– the Shrieking Shack?” asked Snape, he had no problem with making you suffer, but he did not want to murder you “I doubt it’s–“ 

“Shut up Severus, we’ll throw you in as well,” Barty said, snapping towards the boy before it turned to you again “Let’s see if she really is as brave as she claims,” he added as he pulled you up, lounging you across his shoulder, the carelessness of the action made the pain in your back worse, causing you to let out an involuntary cry. Which only got a satisfied laugh from Crouch. 

You tried to fight back, kicking and screaming but Mulciber cast a silencing spell over you. You were still screaming, it was just that no one could hear you. In a second Barty apparated you right in front of the house, leaving you disoriented, and you felt a sharp pain on your leg, probably from splinching, all of which just made you even more vulnerable. How does he even know how to do that? you wondered, still fighting to let yourself free. 

Mulciber opened the door as Barty tossed you inside, “How’s that for a creative prank?” he said as you struggled to your feet and tried lunging yourself forward. Mulciber punched you in the stomach –same place the quaffle had hit merely days ago– and it was enough to send you back to the floor, gasping for air. 

“Poor thing,” he mocked. “She won’t be able to sleep ever again after surviving the horrors of the most haunted house in England. Welcome to our country darling!” He said before closing the door. By the time you managed to get up, they were already locking the door from the outside.

You roared, rage filling every single bit of your body as you banged the door repeatedly, it was useless, their stupid silencing spell made your cries inaudible. You could hear their laughs though, mocking as they saw your futile attempts.

“Just accept your fate darling,” said Evan “If I were you I would start thinking of ways to survive.” 

You pounded the door one last time, your fist throbbing in pain from the sheer force you had used, and finally dropped back to the ground, screaming one last time before tears started running down your cheeks. You felt humiliated and powerless, seething with anger at the realisation that you wouldn’t be able to harvest the moonflower either, your palms were scraped, your leg hurt like a bitch, your back was still in pain from whatever hex they had used and yet, you could feel nothing but rage.

You weren’t afraid of the Shrieking Shack’s ghostly reputation. It might have looked run down and had scratches all over, but you knew the ghosts wouldn’t do much other than attempt to scare you. Regardless, you approached the old fireplace and squinted your eyes until you found an old poker, it was made of iron, great against spirits and even better at cranking open doors. You used it to strike the door repeatedly, still trying to open it when you heard a creak, probably coming from one of the rooms. You gulped, if there was a door, there was a way out, and if there was a way out, you could still get out of this place and harvest the flower. At least that way your outing wouldn’t have been useless. 

You took a deep breath, deciding to make use of the spell you had had and walking up the staircase, you heard muffled voices from the other side of the door of the rooms and you stood there, quietly, trying to make out anything from what they were saying, but your attempts were futile, the walls were thick, no matter how you tried, it was all incoherent mumbling. 

You heard the door creak again. Ghosts did not normally use doors, so whatever was on the other side, had to be corporeal, you tightened your grip on the iron poker, your knuckles white from the force you were using. And after a couple of seconds, you kicked the door open, the poker held high, ready to beat the hell out of whatever or whoever you found on the other side. 

But when the door finally opened wide, what you found on the other side shocked you, “Remus,” you mouthed, a relieved sigh leaving your body, the iron poker falling to the ground with a rather loud clang as you stared at the boy. He covered the distance between the two of you in seconds and wrapped his hands around your face worriedly, gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek as he stared at your dishevelled stance. The dirt sticking to your face and your parted lip made it evident that you had been through a lot that night. You relaxed into his warm hands almost immediately, the bruise from Evan’s rough grip already starting to show on your jaw and neck. 

“What happened?” he asked as he placed a piece of your hair behind your ears to get a better look at the state you were in, his hands warm and caring in comparison with Evan’s, you felt safe, so safe and he so worried that the two of you had forgotten the real reason you had ended up in the same place altogether. Remus was completely focused on you, he wanted, no, he needed to comfort you. 

“Barty,” you said, wincing when no sound came out of your mouth, he instantly realised you’d been charmed and took out his wand.

“Finite incantatem,” he said softly. 

“Barty,” you repeated, voice a little raspy from how much you had screamed earlier, even if no one had heard you. You wanted to crumble into his arms and cry like a baby, “I was trying to harvest the Moonflower because…” Remus stared at you in disbelief, ready to scold you when you stumbled into your words “…today is full moon.” 

Remus’ eyes opened wide and he put a huge distance between the two of you in seconds. You felt cold at the lack of warmth his body had brought and winced, but you instantly understood why he’d done it. You stood straighter, you were in danger, and for the third time in the night, you had to find a way to survive. 

“You have to go,” he said sternly “This place isn’t safe, you–“ 

“–You think I don’t know?” You spat, a little annoyed, your tiredness translating into annoyance as you leaned down to pick up the iron poker and walked towards the window, trying to crank it open. Your arms and hands hurt from the force you were using, the struggles from the night taking a toll on your body. Maybe hitting and fighting Barty hadn’t been such a good idea –No, hitting Barty is always a good idea, you thought as you gave another sharp swing toward the window.

Remus looked at you, confusion sipping into his head. Why are you trying to get out? What are you even– “You know,” he said finally with a gulp, had Sirius told you? he wondered bitterly.

You turn to him, sighing and closing your eyes for a moment, “I’m sorry Remus, I didn’t mean to pry, I just–“ 

“-how long?” he interrupted you, voice so dry you almost cringed.

“The last full moon.” you admitted shutting your eyes for a second before turning back to him to try to explain, “When we were at the infirmary together, it was because I was reading that stupid spicy werewolf novel; all the inconsistencies just made sense…” 

He gulped again, she guessed, of course, she guessed. He should’ve expected it, you were brilliant after all. He felt slightly relieved when he realised no one had told you, but it quickly turned into guilt since he hadn’t done it either.

“I wanted to tell you,” he admitted. 

You shook your head “We met months ago Remus, most of your friends don’t know either.”

“But I still wanted to tell you,” he emphasised the last bit, “you wouldn’t be here if I had.” 

“I probably would,” you said, still banging harshly at the windows. “FUCK!” you shouted, launching the metal poker to the window distressed, it fell gracelessly to the ground. No matter how hard you tried they didn’t even budge. “How long do we have?” you asked with a tired sight. 

“Minutes, probably,” he said bitterly “Where’s your wand?” 

“The Slytherins took it,” you responded. He instantly threw you his wand, you caught it with ease. 

You went for the door “alohomora,” you whispered, nothing happened. 

“It closes from the outside.” He explained. You sighed again. “How much did you research about my condition? You know defence spells?” 

“There are no defence spells against werewolves Remus, they’re attack spells, murder spells.” He knew, he just didn’t wanna call them that. 

“So you know them?” he said, ignoring your remark. 

“No! I ripped the page out and burned it,” you admitted. 

He stared at you angrily “Well, that was bIoody stupid on your part!” 

You stared at him in disbelief “Yeah, because learning how to murder my best friend was the clever thing to do!” 

“YES! When your best friend’s a monster, then YES!” 

You frowned when he said that, the way he perceived himself hurting your very soul “Remus…” He groaned and fell to the ground, “Remus!” You ran towards him but he placed his hand in the air, open palm facing you, a warning. 

He looked up at you, eyes glossy, he had hoped the boys would be here before it started “Hide!” he roared, voice cracking “If I get too close, please promise you will defend yourself.” 

You shook your head, eyes welling with tears “I’m not gonna hurt you, Remus.” 

“Please!” he pleaded. 

“If it’s either you or me, then it’s not gonna be you,” you said simply.

He cried out, his eyes turning golden, his teeth growing “Don’t be so fucking stubborn and bomb the shit out of me.” 

That’s it, you thought and tightened your grip around his wand, you stood right in front of him, pointing the wand to the door “Bombarda!” you shouted, Remus’ wand followed your command as if it had been your own. Once the spell reached the door   you screamed again “Protego.” The force field of the spell protected both you and Remus, who was still crouching and crying as his body continued to transform. 

Once the fire was gone, and the dust settled you realised the spell worked, the big metal door was hanging from one of its hinges. You turned around, giving one last look at poor shrieking Remus and ran for it. But the more you ran, the more stress filled your mind. You knew this tunnel, you’d been there before. In your dreams.

And then there it was, the howl that had been haunting you since your very first week, the sound of paws and claws clashing against the stone. You knew this all too well, you were in your nightmare, except this time, it was real. All the warnings you’d gotten filled your mind. The fox was finally in danger. 

Remus’ strides were even faster as a wolf, and he caught up with you with ease. You raked your brain for a spell that wouldn’t hurt him too much “I’m sorry Remus,” you said with a little frown before pointing his own wand against him “Stupefy!” you roared, the force of the spell enough to push him back a couple of metres. You swallowed thickly as you saw him scramble back to his feet, and crouched down through the thick roots near the end of the tunnel. 

There road was now going upwards, you had to claw your way up, digging your nails on the dirt until you managed to reach the light, you were sure you’d broken one, the sharp pain almost invisible as adrenaline filled your body. As you stood up, you realised exactly where you were “The Whomping Willow,” you whispered as you stared. An idea quickly forming in your head. 

While the hit from one of the branches would probably hurt the wolf, it wouldn’t kill him, not like spells would. So you crouched near the entrance, waiting for it, when you saw its snout, you ran to where you assumed the branches of the Willow reached. If you calculated it wrong, you’d be dеad in seconds, so you took a deep breath, hoping you had been smart enough to figure this one out. 

When the wolf emerged from the tunnel, you finally managed to dimension it. It was huge, far larger than your friend. It stared at you, golden eyes sizing you up. You could almost swear the animal smiled as he gave a slow step towards you. He knew there was no place for you to run where he wouldn’t catch you. 

You looked up at the willow, trying to keep your breath steady as you turned your eyes back to the menacing creature. You looked up at the branches one last time, Remus would kill you if he saw what you were trying to do, “Hey! You stupid beast!” you screamed, arms open as if the wolf didn’t already have his eyes glued to your figure “Why don’t come at me huh? What are you waiting for?” you taunted. 

You saw the Willow pull one of its branches and you smiled, “Scared your little witch?” You taunted again.

3…2…1… The wolf lunged at you, and you threw yourself to the side, rolling about half a metre on the ground. At the same time, the  Whomping Willow lunged its branch straight against your previous position, effectively launching the wolf to the side. You heard a crack and the wolf howled, you winced, hoping the sharp hit hadn’t hurt Remus too much. Unfortunately, the willow had thrown the wolf in between you and the castle, which meant: it was no longer an option to run towards it. That left only one escape route, you turned to look at the dark forest again. The wolf was still trying to get up. 

It might have been naive hope, but you thought that perhaps, you could lose the wolf in the forest. So, for the second time that night, you ran straight towards the most dangerous place in the entire school. 

The darkness engulfed you as you sprinted through the woods, no longer caring for the sounds you made, you had to gain terrain. Your legs were already trying to give in when you spotted a clearing; and there it was, shining with the white cast of moonlight, the moonflower. You turned to see behind you, no sign of the wolf. A glade wasn’t a good place to go when you wanted to lose a fierce beast since there is nowhere to hide in them.

You looked back one last time before diving to the side, breath sharp as you tried to reach the place with the flower. Once there you almost threw yourself to the ground, digging around the edges and taking the flower out carefully, trying to work as fast as possible, gently placing the flower under your shirt as you got up and wiped your hands on the grass. 

You heard a howl, and looked around, trying to spot the wolf. It sounded so close. You were terrified, the echoes of the howl reverberated all around you. If you took off in the wrong direction, you might end up running straight towards the beast. 

One deep breath after the other, you heard the howl again, and you took another step back, hearing the sound of something crunching under your feet, you turned your head downwards, spotting the cracked bone you’d seen before, in your dreams. The bones of the fox. You gulped, knowing full well what would come next: a haunting howl sliced through the air piercing your ears, you winced. 

Remus was close. You took a deep breath, trying to remember where the wolf had popped from in your dream, but it had always been from a different place, as if your dreams were all the different possibilities of how tonight would go down. You turned around again, deciding that’s the place you’d run to, only to find the beast right in front of you, its predatory gaze calculating which part of you it would feast on first.

“H-Hey, It’s ok, it’s me,”  you stammered, hands extended as if you could reason with it. You remembered your notes: Werewolves do not remember who they are once transformed. They can be very aggressive, and they have killed friends and loved ones in wolf form. What the hell had you written after that? If he turns and you’re around, run the fuck away. 

If only it was that fucking simple. 

“Remus,” you said then. The wolf growled baring its teeth at you, you winced, struggling not to step back, harsh movements could be your doom. “Moony,” you breathed out. The wolf tilted its head. You half smiled, of course! The boys sometimes talked about Moony as if it were someone else. You took a deep breath, and nodded, gulping as you considered your next words, “I’m not going to hurt you,” you said, extending Remus’ wand further away from your face dangling in between two fingers. Maybe werewolves attack wizards because they know we’re dangerous, you thought naively. 

“I’m gonna leave this in the ground, okay?” you said, you’d read how smart werewolves were, perhaps Moony understands me. You took another deep breath and bent your knees slowly. When you were close enough to the floor you let the wand fall gently on the grass, standing up just as cautiously. Finally, you stared at the wolf, his slow breaths, watching your every move attentively, and it was a stunning specimen. He was huge, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen a wolf so big, with thick and fluffy fur and eyes sharp, golden specks shining with the moonlight, just like Remus’.  

And then, all of a sudden, a sharp sound came from the forest. A growl, but it wasn’t from the wolf. The second he heard it, his ear perked and he lunged straight at you. You crashed back on the ground with a cry, landing next to the rest of the bones you had unwittingly shattered moments ago. 

Moony pushed you onto the ground with one of its paws, his sharp claws on you, past your thick sweater and digging in straight into the skin of your shoulder. His weight was also crushing your sternum, making it hard for you to even breathe. You cried in pain as he flexed his paw, claws digging deeper. You felt tears streaming down your face, but the wolf wasn’t looking at you, it was looking around. 

You were about to lose consciousness when you heard a familiar growl. You turned your head a little and you saw him “Fang!” you screamed “Get out of here, you’re in danger!” you urged, but the dog only walked closer to the wolf, baring its teeth. You looked at it mortified, but the wolf didn’t move to attack him, yet…

Then you heard a creak from the other side of the forest, a stag, a lot taller than the wolf, and with thick and strong antlers. Just underneath it, there was a small brown rat, with its hair standing on end. It looked like it wanted to get close to you, but was too terrified to do so. 

You stared at them, blinking twice before turning back to the dog, who was still growling at the wolf, attempting to get closer. The wolf shifted, its claws digging deeper into the soft skin of your arm, you held back a cry, whimpering as you bit your lip so hard you drew bIood, again. You turned to the stag once again, staring at its antlers through your lashes. The wolf acted as if it knew these animals. Werewolves don’t really attack animals, they seem to target exclusively Humans, you remembered. 

As you continued to stare, you finally discovered another secret “Prongs,” you whispered as you stared at the stag, “Wormtail,” you said as you lowered your gaze at the rat, and finally you turned around to the dog “Padfoot.” 

The dog, who you had assumed to be Fang, wasn’t even a dog, it was Sirius’ animagus form. He did it, and he turned into a dog, of all things! you thought humorously, somehow managing to smile in such a situation. No wonder the boys always laughed so much when you joked about him being a dog, or about the fact that you’d given him “Puppy” as a nickname. Moony’s claws dug deeper, and you emitted a cry, Prongs tensed as if he was preparing to gore the wolf. And that’s when it downed you: Werewolves don’t attack animals, and clearly, they didn’t attack animagus either. Finally, you smiled, recalling one last trick you had under your sleeve.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: looks like the cat is outta the bag, amma right? This was definetly an intense one, wasn't it? And it's still one of my favourites, I just loooove the action scenes hehe. Either way guys, sorry for the cliffhanger, love ya very much

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[akoyaxs]

Dangerous Games - III ✮ Pairing: Aonung x Tayrangi/Omotikaya fem reader (possible Neteyam x reader as well) ✮ Tags: Reader POV, friends with benefits, p in v, aftercare, fluffy fluff fluff, Aonung x Reader, slight Neteyam x reader, reader has intimacy issues (childhood traumaᵕ̈), jealous Aonung, jealous Neteyam <3 ✮ Word Count: 5.4 k PART 1 HERE | PART 2 HERE Note: this (backstory and character dynamic) is heavily based of my wattpad fanfiction "Dangerous Game", it's just a little more mature than I would post on my WP so I'm doing a Aonung x reader part now instead of the Aonung x OC in the fanfiction ˙ᵕ˙

You didn't exactly make a mistake, you know that, yet it's not the best position to be in. On one hand, there's a massive, obnoxiously hot skxawng that is obsessed with you, happy to do anything you like, but on the other, the principal for not giving in to his endless and amused attempts at seduction has dismally failed.

Yet every few days different encounter isn't exactly making you regret your acceptance of his "friends with benefits" offer.

You might get hot from training, or Aonung might be frustrated with his unsuccessful attempts at ikran taming, and suddenly you're finding his head buried hungrily between your legs, or bent over as he's balls deep and roughly thrusting, all the while smoothing your hair and whispering his moaned praise.

You're always careful to not get attached, to never pay too much attention to the sincerity of his words and his surprising gentleness with you when you aren't in the middle of one of your "benefits", but you can never miss it.

It's starting to worry you, the way you're now starting to like the tender touches, the way he brushes your hair out of your face and tells you how well you're doing.

No one has ever been this careful with you, bothered to try at look after you like this. You know it's your fault that you push everyone away, but Aonung is the first to refuse to be pushed away.

He cares, for some inexplicable reason that makes no sense to you. He's infuriatingly stubborn, just like you are.

So weeks after the arrangement began, you begin to notice the other things, things that only mean one thing.

"He really likes you, you know."

"What?" you say, snapping out of your daze and looking up at Kiri, who smiles, her eyes darting to where yours had just been watching Aonung with Rotxo in the river.

You, the three metkayina and the Sullys had taken the day to go to the river so Rotxo, Tsireya and Aonung could swim.

Neteyam looks up from besides you as you frown at Kiri.

"What are you talking about?" you clarify.

"Aonung is obviously down fucking bad for you," Kiri grins. "I mean, he can't ever pull his eyes away from you, and when you aren't around him, he's always looking around to see where you are."

"No he's not," you scoff. "He-"

"Loves you," Neteyam finishes, his face blank and bored, as though he's pointing out the fucking obvious.

"No," you shake your head. "He just had a little thing for me at the start that-"

"Has grown into an unbearable love?" Kiri suggests. "The only question is if that love is unrequited or reciprocated."

"No!" you exclaim, covering your face. "We're just... friends. ish. Friendish."

"Right..." Neteyam says, raising his brows at you. "So you don't fuck."

"That's - that's- no- well, yeah but- I mean NO-"

"Oh Eywa," Kiri says, her incredulous laugh interrupting your awkward, desperate stammers. "You totally do!"

"That's not a big deal," you snap. "He's attractive and it doesn't mean anything, we're just... helping each other out, I guess."

Kiri mouths the words helping each other out, before turning and shooting her brother a disbelieving look. Neteyam's gaze is still and expressionless, flicking between your flushed face and Aonung in the river. 

You follow his gaze to see Aonung staring at you, and you quickly turn away, grabbing Neteyam to do the same.

"It's just sex, nothing else," you say strictly.

"Yes," Kiri sighs. "But you're old enough to have more. You could find a mate. Besides, you deserve to be happy-"

"You don't have a mate," you say defensively.

"She has Rotxo," Neteyam points out. "Lo'ak and Tsireya have each other. You're the only one who-"

"You don't have a mate either," you protest.

"Well that's different," Neteyam sighs. "I'm the next Olo'eyktan, remember? I can't just pick anyone for my mate, and besides, who I want-"

"WHO?" you say excitedly. "Is there someone else?!"

Neteyam doesn't answer, and you tackle him to the floor excitedly, shaking his shoulders and demanding he tells you who. Neteyam reluctantly opens his mouth to speak, but then he looks over your shoulder and quickly closes it.

Aonung is standing there, so massive that you have to crane your neck to look up at him. You have to admit that it's hard to not stare too hard- his paler smooth teal skin is glittering with little gleaming droplets of river water, and when you're this low besides him, you're kneeling for a very different task.

You don't need him to speak to understand what he's thinking about, but it's a question of why. However you just slide off of Neteyam who was still pinned underneath you and stand up.

Neteyam's face hardens as he watches you face Aonung, brows raised and waiting for him to speak.

"Can I speak to you?" Aonung asks dully.

Kiri is gaping, Rotxo and Lo'ak are laughing to themselves whilst Tsireya is adorably oblivious, and Neteyam is watching silently and emotionlessly as you nod and follow Aonung through the trees. You can feel his cold golden gaze burning into your back until you slip between the trees, and even when you know he couldn't see you any longer, you can feel the ghost of his inexplicable gaze between your shoulder-blades.

"Yes?" you ask, once you pause a little while away.

"Is there something between you and Neteyam?" Aonung asks, frowning down at you.

You blink confusedly back. You weren't expecting him to speak- expecting more of the usual quick fuck so you could both release some tension then head back to the others.

"What do you mean, something between me and Tey?"

"You call him Tey, for one thing," Aonung points out. "And you're with him a lot-"

"Funny," you say, folding your arms. "Because he says the exact same thing about you."

"But we're actually fucking," Aonung says, without any pretence of a smile in his blunt, deep voice. 

"What are you trying to say," you ask with narrowed eyes.

"Do you- uh -have any other friends," he asks, arms folded and blue eyes fixed challengingly in your golden-amber ones.

"What does that matter?"

"Because I want to know what I have to share," Aonung growls.

There's a strange, almost possessive glint in those ocean eyes now. Share. He thinks that he needs to share you.

"Why would it matter," you whisper. "We're not anything, this is just an arrangement. You're free to do whatever you like too."

You think for a moment that you broke Aonung. He is completely still, glaring so irately down at you with those blazing, large blue eyes as you try to guess what he's going to do next. But he still manages to surprise you when he leans forward and crashes his lips onto yours.

Everything has always been tentative, frightened to cross the barrier that would be too much for the other, but Aonung just doesn't seem to give a damn right now.

His mouth is warm and hungry, fangs lightly nipping your soft lips, hands roaming and grabbing and caressing with careless oblivion in a way that makes your skin ache afterwards in a welcome sting and bruise.

Then suddenly you're lifted up and you're on your knees right there on the forest floor. You can feel Aonung's breath hot and heavy as he nips at your neck, folded over your much smaller, arched body and sliding your tewngs away with quick hands.

"Is this-"

"Yes it's fine," you say, gasping a little as you feel yourself being stretched open, small stings of pain shooting through you as you drop your forehead to the ground and grunt. This is different to before, bent completely over with your face pillowed against the ground.

When he starts to move, it completely knocks your breath out, so you're left gasping for air you never manage to catch as he thrusts again. His grip on your waist is bordering on strangling, yet you find yourself unconsciously following him, pulling yourself back to meet each one of your thrusts with a choked moan.

His sudden roughness and hunger and desire is startling yet undoubtedly welcome. So this is what it's like when he's unrestrained, hot and animalistic, rutting fast and hard, pushing you into a further arch while his sharp teeth nip at the back of your neck and shoulders.

It's starting to get too much, the coil in your stomach growing too close too soon, and your moans are starting to border on lewd whines and whimpers as you sink your teeth into the flesh of your arms.

You're clutching the ground for dear damn life, arms attempting to pillow your face as your whole body rocks forward with each rough, almost ruthless thrust.

"I'm going to-" You gasp, your thighs trembling as you sob against the floor. "Oh, god, oh fuck, oh shit, I'm going to-"

You can feel him twitch inside of you, and you moan at a particularly hard thrust. Each rock of his hips knocks every breath, every thought out of you until your heart is pounding in rhythm with each increasingly rough, deep, animalistic thrust of his cock rutting between your legs.

"Wa- wait," you gasp, as another thought occurs to you. "Aonung, the others."

"What about them," he grunts, not slowing down for a second, hand absent-mindedly moving to your shoulder-blades to push you into an even deeper arch.

Between choked whines, you manage to say, "They're right over there. They're going to hear!"

"Guess you're just going to have to be more quiet," he says carelessly, no doubt knowing that there wasn't a fucking chance of that happening.

You just bury your face deeper into your arms, hoping that they'll be enough to hide the moans knocked out of you with each of his deep thrusts.

He has you pinned firmly beneath him, yet it feels snug and comforting despite the pain of his grip. It feels like he's fucking everything into you, even his scent, so each thrust is enveloping you in his warm, tropical scent.

Then finally with a loud cry that you tried so hard to stifle and kill, your entire body pulses as your orgasm blazes through you like fire as Aonung continues to fuck you through the quivers of your release.

You yelp as he speeds up now, brutal and animalistic as the last tenterhooks of his strained restraint snaps and he buries himself deep inside you.

You just give out, going slightly limp so he's holding you up as he comes, hair spilling over you as you just rest against the floor, breathing heavily in an attempt to steady yourself as you choke at the sensation of impossible fullness.

Then when he finally stops, he seems to return to himself, realising that you're just lax on the floor, only held up by his rough grip on your slightly bruised hips, flushed and slightly tear-streaked face hidden shamefully in your arms and curtained away by your long dark hair.

"Shit, are you okay?" Aonung asks, pulling out and lightly tilts your chin so he can see your face.

You just groan weakly and attempt to swat his hand away, a mortified little smile on your face as he sighs in relief and flops to the ground beside you.

"Feeling better?" you croak, wrinkling your nose at him.

Aonung exhales shakily with a small laugh. He turns to look at you, and there's a note of something in his eyes that you just don't understand- like he's trying to see if he would be able to get away with something.

Then he tentatively reaches out and tucks your hair away. When you don't protest or pull away, he lightly pulls you closer, so your head is resting between his shoulder and his neck, your arm draped tiredly across his chest and your body nestled cozily against his larger one.

You're tense. You've never done this, never cuddled, never allowed someone to be this fucking close. But then again, you've never fucked the same guy twice, and you've been in this arrangement with Aonung for weeks.

But this time was different, aggressive and desperate and hot and messy and overwhelming, and you're completely fucked out.

"Are you alright?" you ask Aonung quietly.

That's weird too, that you're asking Aonung about how he is. That you care how he is.

"What do you mean?" he asks gently, nuzzling closer into your neck. You try to ignore how comfortable it is having his lips resting warmly against your collarbone.

"Well," you say, with a bitter, shaky laugh, "it looked like you were a little... pent up."

 Aonung groans and buries his face deeper into your hair.

"Aonung," you say gently, turning so you can see him.

You are inches apart, nearly nose to nose as you rake your eyes over his face. He looks torn between mortified and as though he's trying to hide from you. You wonder if it's this frustrating for him when you hide like this.

"I just forgot about the arrangement," Aonung mumbles, not meeting your eyes. "I just- I..." Surprising yourself, you tentatively reach up to brush your fingertips against the soft teal skin of his flushed face. His eyes instantly flick to yours, and his lips part just enough for you to lightly touch them too. "I just... I didn't like seeing you with Neteyam."

"Oh," you says softly. You have no idea what to say to that- especially when its something that you always kind of knew, but never expected to be told. Especially when it never processes in your mind that you could be loved. "Neteyam's just a friend," you laugh lightly.

There's a slight crackle behind you like twigs snapping, but when you look up, there's nothing and no one there. You frown, but Aonung lightly guides your face back to his before you can think more about it.

You sit like that in silence for a little bit, but it surprises you how it's not awkward at all. It's comfortable and warm and quiet, pillowed against his muscular body with his head tucked gently beside yours, hands absentmindedly playing with your hair.

Usually you would never allow this, but you're frankly fucked out, and you doubt you'd be able to push him away even if you wanted to. So you just close your eyes and rest for a moment, until he speaks.

"So when do I get an ikran?" Aonung asks, shifting slightly so you're facing each other now, yet you're still close enough for him to hold you.

"Soon," you shrug. "You can ask Neteyam to-"

"What if I don't want Neteyam to take me," Aonung asks.

"Lo'ak or Kiri might be free," you shrug. "If you manage to pull them away from Tsireya or Rotxo."

"What if I don't want the Sullys?" he asks, eyes glittering with amusement and slight incredulous annoyance as though you were being stupid.

"Then who-" you start to say, a confused look on your face before Aonung cuts you off, rolling his eyes with a fond little grin, his hand gently snaking to tilt your face as he kisses you.

You have half a mind to snap at him, to remind him that kissing was a little too personal, too intimate for the agreement when you weren't actually fucking, to shout at him for cutting you off, before you realise you don't actually mind the intimacy of the kiss when you're nestled in his arms, his hands gently caressing your cheeks and holding you close, his heart beating warmly and comfortably against you. 

In fact, the thought of him pulling away seems worse than the actual closeness, tenderness and suggestiveness of the kiss, then suddenly he is, and you're frowning at the sudden, tiny, yet extremely unwelcome distance between his lips and yours.

"Can I kiss you," he asks, just a little late.

"Yes fine," you grumble impatiently, yet by his little, delighted smile, you know he took it for what it secretly meant, yeah you'd better kiss me skxawng.

"So you'll allow this?" he grins, inching closer. "It doesn't break the agreement?"

You have a strong temptation to smack that smug, delighted expression off his face, but you are just fucking exhausted, and his kisses are like coffee. But before he can lean back in and satiate you, there's stupidly familiar voices though the trees and you're panickingly staggering up to not get caught.

"Bro," Lo'ak says, looking you up and down before raising his weird hairy human eyebrows at Aonung. "Are you trying to mark her now?"

You flush deeply, only now noticing the little purple bruises his grip had roughly left, as well as the little nips and hickeys that now adorned your body. You feel even more aware of Aonung's marks when you look back up and meet Neteyam's gaze, his rich-golden eyes blazing bright as they trail over the bruises, hickeys and love bites before turning coldy on Aonung. 

Aonung returns Neteyam's golden gaze with his own icy blue one, and an unspoken challenge seems to be passed between the two boys. You expected Neteyam to react like the others, amused like Lo'ak or scandalised like Tsireya, but he remains cold and expressionless, not looking at you or returning your nervous smile. Instead of laughing off or denying Lo'ak's question, Aonung just smirks slightly and looks away, and Neteyam swallows hotly.

The walk back to the village is a strange one. There's some weird confusing tension between Neteyam and Aonung that you probably couldn't decipher in the best of times, let alone when you're so completely fucked dumb that you're putting all your best efforts into walking normally enough so the others don't know that you're whole body is turned to jelly.

Tsireya is laughing with Lo'ak at the front of the group, but Kiri and Rotxo seemed to have noticed your clumsy tiredness because Kiri links her arm with yours and gently leads you along and Rotxo distracts you with quiet, sweet conversation.

But you're hardly listening, because you can feel two gazes blazing straight into you from behind. Although no words are spoken between them, the weirdness between Aonung and Neteyam seems to radiate straight into you. 

Whatever, you'll figure it all out when you're back to normal, when you aren't so weak that you're susceptible to Aonung's tenderness and intimacy, when you aren't so fucked so dumb and stupid and reckless that you aren't wanting to kiss him again.

But there's no mistaking the intensity of the gazes on your back as you reenter the village. One blazing gold, the other icy blue.

In the next few days after that trip to the river, you're terrified. Terrified of what happened between you and Aonung.

Not of the sex, no that was doubtlessly the best you've ever had, but of what happened after. Of the cuddling and the kiss and the tenderness with which he cared for you and the fact that you let him be so tender and intimate.

So okay, maybe seeing your whole clan get murdered and destroyed by sky people at a young age could be traumatising, maybe even give you a few silly little intimacy issues, but your total aversion for intimate affection had always been uncomplicated.

No one could betray or hurt you if you never let anyone get close enough for you to care about them. No one could ever get hurt by you if they never cared for you in the first place. But Aonung has. Yes he's pussy-whipped, but he's liked you from the start and you knew that. No matter how hard you tried to discourage him or push him away, he's just as stubborn in liking you as you are in not liking him.

And now you don't know what you like. You think you know what it means that you trusted him to take care of you, that you let him get close in a way that wasn't just meaningless activity and was genuine care and intimacy. So you have to stay away from him.

Which is why for the past few days, you've only been in your kelku. You refuse to go out, knowing full well that no matter where you go, to the forest or around the village, Aonung will track you down and ask why you've been avoiding him, be all concerned and sweet and ARGH.

You groan and flop back down onto your woven bed. You're running out of things to do- stuck in your kelku. You've woven an obscene, unnecessary amount of jewellery, carved two new knives, beaded several new tops that you can only wear if you one day summon the courage to go outside and face the prospect to running into Aonung.

You're snarling with annoyance of being self-isolated in your kelku, hissing to yourself under your breath as you string together the beads of a new top when someone ducks into your kelku. Your body stiffens, but you quickly relax when you realise who it is.

"Hey Tey," you grin, as he smiles slightly back at you. "What are you doing here?"

"I haven't seen you in days," Neteyam says, frowning slightly at you. "I was getting worried- you seemed... off, that day by the river."

"I was tired," you say, brows furrowing at your friend. Usually Neteyam would be sitting with you talking about a guy, torn between slight protectiveness over you and slight amusement at your scornful attitude to intimacy. But now he's frowning, worried about you. "Aonung tired me out."

You expect him to grin, to joke, to maybe even make fun of you, but Neteyam isn't Lo'ak. Your close friendship with each of the Sullys is different, but you always considered yourself closest to the eldest, training with Neteyam, bonding over the struggles you both went to to prove yourselves.

Since you sought refuge with the Omotikaya at a young age, you and Neteyam had been the closest of friends. As you got older, he was busier with his various duties as not only a warrior, but the future Olo'eyktan of the clan. The two of you never really discussed it, but in the last few years, when you both started having 'experiences' with others, you grew apart slightly.

It's not like your relationship had ever been romantic, but there were certain elements of intimacy and jealousy you had always just assumed to be the closeness of your friendship. But now Aonung pointed it out, was even jealous of Neteyam himself, you have to wonder if there ever was more between you and the prince of the Omotikaya.

Then the Sully's had left for a bit to the reef, and when Neteyam came back, you had both grown. Even without any spoken elements of romance between the two of you, the obvious fact that both of you had had several if not many sexual and romantic experiences with others just seemed strange for a friendship forged in childhood.

You lower your beading and look up at him to find those golden eyes are fixed straight in your own, bright in the afternoon light filtering into your kelku from the gap in the weaving he left slightly ajar, his lips slightly parted as he tries to decide what to say. Fuck. No. Okay so maybe Aonung is getting in your head. Maybe Aonung is opening your eyes, because now Neteyam just looks... different.

Since the reef, Neteyam has gotten more muscular, more than the typical Omotikaya yet without the broad physique of Aonung. It's probably all the swimming or the diet of tropical fruits and fish or something, you suppose, but why did you never notice how he's just so... attractive, with his blazing golden eyes and smooth handsome features.

Sure, all you'd heard from other girls for years was how Neteyam was so handsome and hot and strong and a good lover, but that had all just been silliness because Neteyam was your friend nothing more, to either of you.

"Can I help you with something?" you ask, swallowing heavily, horribly aware that you had just spaced out and stared blankly at him for way too long.

"Are you okay?" he asks, frowning and moving closer to you, setting down a pile of stuff so he can get a better look at you. "You're acting weird."

"Am I?" you ask nervously, swallowing hard and blinking way too much. 

"Yes," Neteyam says slowly, crouching beside you and frowning deeper. "You've been in your kelku for days, you haven't seen anyone, talked to anyone, and everyone was starting to get worried. I was getting worried about you Rey."

His nickname for you, shortened from Reypaytun and meaning blood red, was one of the first things you ever shared with him as your first friend among the Omotikaya. It was a fond name he chose given the blood red war paint favoured by the Tayrangi that you never got the chance to wear, and ever since he called you Rey, the little warrior, the last Tayrangi.

He seems to notice the way you pause at the nickname Rey as a flood of memories from your childhood washes over you, and he places a comforting hand on your leg, saying, "It's me. You can tell me if something's going on. Is it Aonung?"

The sound of Aonung's name snaps you back. The one you've been having all these strange feelings for, the one that mentioned Neteyam having feelings for you. You swallow hotly again, and Neteyam frowns. Again.

"Yes," you say quietly. Instantly, he coldens, scowling and hissing protectively.

"Did he hurt you? You looked a little bruised but I didn't say anything because I thought maybe you-"

"No there's nothing wrong like that," you say quickly. "Aonung didn't hurt me, not at all. He's been... well I've been... um..."

Neteyam sighs, his ears drooping slightly as understanding dawns on his face, his hand sliding off your leg and dropping towards the ground. The absense of his touch feels like a sign, like your friend is slipping away just as his hand had. That the two of you are growing even further apart than ever.

"I know Rey," he says gently. "I mean, it was pretty fucking obvious from the start that he liked you. I tried to tell him that it wouldn't end well, that you never let anyone get close, but you proved me wrong like usual."

"What do you mean?" you ask quietly, your tail sweeping behind you. You miss your friend.

"For years I thought we were the only ones you'd let love you," he says, now looking slightly wistful. "I never thought it would be Aonung of all people that managed to get your heart, not when literally every guy ever is head over heels for you."

"You aren't," you point out, though even to yourself, your voice sounds unsure. "Right?" 

Neteyam doesn't reply, just smiling wistfully and sighing, his strong jaw clenching. You try to think of something to say, when the rest of his words clink into place in your brain, and you sit up quickly.

"What do you mean get my heart?" you ask sharply. "He hasn't- not-"

"Rey please," Neteyam says, not looking at you. "You literally let him cuddle you, take care of you, play with your hair. It goes beyond banter and pointless sex and you know it. You know it means more to him, and you know that it means more to you too."

You make to shake your head, but then you realise your body isn't moving, as though it refuses to say that Aonung means nothing. Fuck. 

"Fuck."

Neteyam laughs humourlessly as you sit up, face twisted in distress as the stupid damn truth of your friend's words sink in and you frown at him. Neteyam isn't looking at you, hiding his face from you, and your harboured suspicion that he's secretly laughing at you is immediately stomped out when you notice.

His ears are drooped all the way down, and his hands are lightly fiddling with his necklace. It's a small habit he only fell into when he was agitated or upset- you often found him fiddling with the beading of the traditional warrior necklace when he found expectations too much, when he got in trouble with his father, when he felt he wasn't enough.

"What's wrong Tey," you ask, lightly reaching out to touch your friend's head in a friendly pat. But it feels different now that you're both all grown up and grown apart- he feels too big, not like when you were inseparable children. 

Neteyam looks up, his face suddenly so large in your hand- no longer the adorably delighted childish face it once had been, now all chiselled and handsome and suddenly twisted with almost concealed, melancholy bitterness as he sighs and pulls away from you. It means something, that he pulled away.

"It's just weird," Neteyam says, with a poor attempt at a smile. "I always felt proud knowing that you let me close to you. That I could help you and protect you, that we would be so close forever. Then shit happened and I had to leave and we just grew apart slightly I guess. I just never thought that when we came back, Aonung would be the one to get you."

He swallows and looks away, obviously having said more than he meant to. You are about to reach out to your friend before remembering him pull away, his hand slipping away, his gaze somehow refusing to reach your own. But you're closer to understanding now more than ever, and being the ridiculously stubborn person you are, you can't just let it go now.

"What are you trying to say Tey?" you ask, frowning at him. "Aonung said... he said..."

"What?" Neteyam asks, now completely abandoning the pretence that he isn't annoyed and letting the confusing, uncalled for bitterness seep into his words. "What did your Aonung say about me?"

"That you..." you start to say, throat feeling dry under his suddenly blazing golden gaze. "He thought there was something going on between us."

With that, the last remaining light in Neteyam's face just snuffs itself out, and you feel your heart sink desperately. His tail stops flicking agitatedly behind him, thudding listless and dead on the floor behind him, his gaze dropping away somewhat as the fire in those blazing eyes dies, as though you put it out.

"I mean," you hastily say, trying to get him back to normal. It makes your heart ache in a terrible, painful sort of way to see Neteyam look so doleful and betrayed, makes your whole body shiver at the thought that you made the prince of the clan look so broken. "He thought you maybe liked me. But I told him- you only see me as a friend and I-"

"It's fine Rey," he says quietly, not meeting your gaze. "I get it."

"No!" you practically cry. "I don't even know what I'm trying to say- please stop! You don't need to get anything, Aonung was just being stupid and I don't even know what's going on."

"He wasn't stupid," Neteyam says quietly.

"What?"

"He wasn't stupid," Neteyam snaps, standing to leave. "He was right."

"About what?" you breathe, heart hammering uncomfortably in your chest. You know exactly what Neteyam is going to say next- but it just can't be true.

"That I liked you. Like you," he says angrily, taking a deep breath before rushing his next words. "But I know that you see me as a friend, and that you have your whole fucked up thing with Aonung going on."

You exhale shakily, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment and trying to think of what to say. When you open them again, Neteyam's blazing eyes are filled with fiery possessiveness again. It's everything you've always marked as friendship that is so clear in his gaze now, and you swallow heavily when he steps closer.

"But I know you Rey," he whispers, suddenly towering over you as he steps closer. "And I could be better than Aonung."

At that, you freeze. This is Neteyam, your friend Neteyam, the most desired man in the clan, the prince of the Omotikaya standing over you, blinking down at you with his large golden eyes and telling you he's better than the other boy you fuck, who's also his friend. What. The. Fuck. 

"What are you saying?" you whisper, hating how squeaky your voice sounds.

"Let me prove myself," Neteyam shrugs, now just a foot away.

You mouth wordlessly. On one hand, all you've heard for years is Neteyam's incredible talent with women, his amazing looks and bravery and size working wonders for every girl in the clan, but then again, Aonung was also completely and utterly satisfying and hot and muscular in himself. You aren't tied down though. Just because you had been having a good time with Aonung didn't mean you couldn't with anyone else.

But your friendship might not last with Neteyam if you took this step. Yet then again, it's already changed, even more so now he's told you he likes you, absolutely now he's offering what he's offering.

It seems a little as though he's stepping on Aonung's toes- along the same lines of impressing you, proving himself yadayadayada, but as you meet Neteyam's gaze, you can't seem to find a problem with anything.

He's staring down at you, inches away from your lips yet still a foot taller, blazing golden eyes staring straight into your own.

fuck.

[cyber-dump-171]

Chapter 2: Weirdos

Objection! Stand your ground! Marvelous! (Twisted Wonderland x Reader)

← Chapter 1 | Masterlist | Chapter 3 →

Word count: 5.4 k.

WARNING: N/A

Note: sorry it took me a while to upload, I had to get a uni project done but now I'm almost finished with it! Thank you for the likes, reblogs, and comments! This chapter is based on chapter 2 of the manga “Disney Twisted Wonderland - Episode of Heartslaby

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“LET ME GO!” the gray creature screams in response, trying to escape from the arms of the crow man, who has no intention of letting him go. As their figures become smaller and smaller, the room seems to return to normal, the students talking in whispers about the chaos that happened just a few minutes ago and making jokes about the little monsters' “pathetic or laughable wish.”

You don't want to talk about it, much less think about what's going on around you. You've long passed the stage of denial, the things in front of you are concrete evidence that the crow man's speech was not a lie. 

Now, you're scared, a feeling of doom mixed with nausea twists your stomach into pretty bows as you slowly make your way toward Yuuken and the coffin man. You're pushing down and drowning feelings that are meant to be addressed, but honestly, right now, what else are you supposed to do? 

You convince yourself that the best option, for now, is to swallow the bitter pill, find a way to get out of this situation as soon as possible and return safely home. Furthermore, you can have an existential crisis later.

You kneel down in front of the man, getting a better look at his features as you do a preliminary scan of his body for any noticeable injuries. ‘Could this be?��� Despite the commotion and the fall from a considerable height, his slicked-back blond hair is completely intact, not a single hair out of place. His breathing is even, meaning there are no deep internal injuries or anything too dangerous to worry about… for now.

There is no blood on his cream-colored satin shirt, except for a few specks of dirt and dust from the debris, and the only injuries are a few scratches on his hands, some of his fingers adorned with expensive but tasteful jewelry, the same goes for his ears and neck. 

'He looks like he stepped right out of a fashion magazine.' Your hand gently grips his chin as you lift his head, moving it from side to side, his eyes still closed. His left cheek has a cut two fingers below the eye, but fortunately, it's not too deep. “Enma, please hold his head up, I'll treat the wound,” you gently release his chin and reach for your bag, quickly finding a small white plastic box. 

Although you are not clumsy, your classmates are, especially two of your middle school friends who are always fighting or pulling pranks that ended in bruises, cuts, or tears. The school nurse was never around for some reason, and after the third injury, which ended with a particularly nasty cut on your forehead, you made sure to carry a small first-aid kit in case of emergency. While your friends have moved away, you've subconsciously kept it with you, even though you rarely use it. You appreciate your overthinking and safety precautions.

Yuuken lets go of his gym bag, the items inside clattering rather loudly as they hit the ground, drawing the attention of some students sitting on a nearby bench, though they quickly return to their conversation. The Kendo student softly grabs both sides of the young man's head, who groans in response, before holding it in your direction, just in time for you to open the package and take out a small alcohol wipe.

“This will sting a little,” you quietly warn before gently pressing the wet cotton against the wound, the young man wincing in response as he inhales, though his eyes remain closed. Passing the swab a few times, you remove most of the blood and dirt from his face before reaching for the box and pulling out a bandage, placing it on top of the cut.

“Thank you kindly,” he whispers in return, as you roll up the trash and stuff it into one of the inside pockets of your bag. You'll find a place to throw it away later. Exchanging a single glance, you and Yuuken stand up and take each of the man's arms and swing them over your shoulders, helping him to lift himself off the ground. 

“Let’s get out of here while we can,” the Kendo student nods at your quiet words, and the two of you prepare to make your way out of the building before the crow man returns, which was your original plan before the monster wreaked havoc. Unfortunately, before you can take another step, you're stopped by the redhead whose name you learned is Riddle Rosehearts, as he angrily points his pen at you.

“You! How dare you insult me just now!?” he asks, irritated, his gray eyes fixed on your bewildered expression. “What!? How did I insult you? We barely interacted before!” your brain sorts through every single memory since the very moment you awakened in this cursed place, trying to figure out how you could — wait…

“Are you offended that I didn't let you get hit by that giant fireball!?” you ask, dumbfounded at the audacity of this man. Riddle's eyebrows furrowed in response to your question, a scowl etching his pale face. ‘What an insufferable dude! I didn’t mean to steal his stupid thunder.’ “Let me make this very clear to you… This is the same as insulting the Queen of Hearts, and I will have your head for it!” have your head!? He’s going to kill you!? Before you can even retaliate to the insane comment, a dry laugh at your side interrupts the confrontation.

“Insult? Heh, you’re quite sensitive if you believe that my friend removing you out of harm's way is an ‘insult’,” the blond man chuckles before lifting his head, icy blue eyes staring mockingly at Riddle. 

The redhead's confidence does not waiver as the piercing eyes stare back at him, Riddle only tightens his grip on the pen. You believe that the light is more likely playing some tricks, because, why is the house warden’s face turning redder? The blond man simply barks a laugh at his actions. “What? Cat got your tongue, 'queen'? You seemed eager to rant to my friend just now. What happened to your self-confidence?” his head lulls to the side as if he were a doll, a Cheshire grin decorating his lips.

Quickly, the blonde man slides his wrists out of your and Yuuken's grasp before lazily standing up and shoving his jewel-adorned hands into the front pockets of his pants. You have a bad feeling, even though he's mocking the redhead, you feel a murderous intent emit from the blonde man as he suddenly straightens his back and cracks his neck, a loud "pop" reaches your eyes and you automatically cringe.

His movements are slow but taunting as he makes his way over to Riddle, a cold smile on his lips, and the atmosphere becomes heavy and tense. The rest of the nearby students notice it too, quietly yelling at the rest of the people in the back to "shut up," and the people sitting on a nearby balcony lean forward to pay close attention to the scene. You've just noticed them. For his part, the house warden slowly backs away, and you can tell he's beginning to feel intimidated, though his face doesn't waver.

“Go on, I’m interested in finding out how you’re going to cut their head off. Will you use a knife, a cleaver, or will you point that pen at them and cast a spell like you did at the cat? Or perhaps… you spill nothing but empty threats?” the students beside you whisper excitedly at the confrontation, some even pulling out their phones to record, the spectacle before them must be amazing.

As the little man opens his mouth to retaliate, two figures suddenly rush forward, one of them a young man with green hair and a small black clover on his left cheek, placing a firm hand on the house warden’s shoulder. “Riddle, why don't we all calm down and wait for the Headmaster to return?” finally! Someone in this room with some common sense! 

At the sudden appearance of these two figures, the blond man rolls his eyes and backs away, deciding to stand right next to you, the smile now turns into an amused grin, and he chuckles darkly next to you. “Pfft, what a boring show,” he mutters lowly, his sharp eyes briefly connecting with yours, but his gaze returns to face the tiny tyrant. 

The murderous aura is now gone, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. ‘This guy… Yuuken and I have to be careful around him, he feels like a ticking bomb, poking at others for his own amusement.’

"Calm down? Why should I, when these three have done nothing but cause trouble and ruin the entrance ceremony!? They're guilty of misconduct,” Riddle sneers, his eyes focused on you. Did he forget that the chaos was caused by some random creature that broke through a window and proceeded to set the entire room on fire? Also, the concept of 'calm' or 'rationality 'is completely absent from this guy's vocabulary.

The green-haired man sighs, gritting his teeth at the redhead's reaction. However, despite the obvious frustration toward the house warden, his expression quickly changes to one of warm nervousness as the man laughs in response. It's almost like a mother's reaction to an upset child, attempting to quiet him down before he throws a tantrum. ‘Interesting.’

“Still, this is the first day for these guys, they don't know all the rules of this place,” and you're back to square one. You're momentarily distracted when the second figure, a man with orange hair partially pulled back into a ponytail, squeezes between you and Yuuken and places a warm hand on both of your shoulders, side-eyeing and avoiding the blonde man. “Yep! Soooo, can you maybe let them off the hook this time?”

You just shake your head, a tired sigh leaving your lips. “Please, we're not here to enroll, this is a mistake. We want nothing to do with this, we just want to go home!” you sound like a broken record at this point, mentally exhausted by the stubborn people who seem to be completely deaf to your words. The orange-haired man gives you a small, pitiful smile as he gently pats you on the shoulder.

“Why do you keep spouting such nonsense? The black carriage wouldn’t pick up a person who has no magical abilities,” as soon as Riddle finishes his sentence, a booming sound resonates within the walls of the room as you notice some movement in the background. In the mirror, which bizarrely shows no reflection, a sea of green flames appears, dancing fervently, and moments later, a stoic theatrical mask comes into view. “It is as you said.”

You stop dead in your tracks, the world around you momentarily comes to a halt as the monotone words spoken by the mirror reach your ears. ‘That voice… it was the one that was speaking to me before I got run over by that horse.’ It seems that you're not the only one who recognizes it, as when you turn to look at Yuuken and the blond man, their faces are ones of shock and surprise.

“You… you were the one inside my head,” Yuuken, who had been relatively quiet throughout the entire confrontation, mutters under his breath, his owlish gaze glued to the magic mirror. Though the mask pays them no mind, continuing with his monologue. “No color, no shape, nothing.”

The entire room falls silent, several eyes now staring at you, watching and examining your every move. They feel like vultures, waiting for your reaction as if you three were vulnerable prey. But, you ignore them, more focused on looking for the answers to the questions that have been eating at your brain for the entire evening.

“Did you bring us here? If so, why us?” you make your way towards the towering mirror, the warm hand that was previously placed on your shoulder now falling back towards the orange-haired man’s side. Yet the soulless, dark eyes of the mask just stare back at you without answering any of your questions. 

A pair of footsteps make their way towards your right side and the smell of expensive sandalwood and cinnamon cologne reaches your nostrils, as the unknown blonde man scoffs. “What? You too as well? Are all of you this rude or are we just simply not worthy in your presence?” behind you, Riddle gasps in shock and you can feel the incoming verbal attack from the redheaded even if you’re standing so far away from him.

“My goodness! Tonight has turned out to be quite a night! First, that monster raccoon wreaking havoc, and now this,” the room turns to face the voice that speaks from the entrance. The crow man has returned, this time without a certain noisy monster in his arms, long gone after he went out to throw it off the school grounds. “But if that's the case, then we will have to send you three back to your homes. After all, we cannot accept magicless students here.”

Yes! Finally! Thank whatever god or entity has heard your pleas! As the crow man walks towards the mirror, passing Riddle, and the other quiet students, you can't help but almost cry tears of joy at the thought of finally being able to return home and leave this nightmare of a day and place behind.

As soon as you get home, you'll tell your dad to shove that part-time job at the police station where the sun doesn't shine, and you'll lock yourself inside your bedroom for the rest of the summer, completely forgetting that this day ever happened. You’ll never set foot near the police station unless it’s necessary.

The crow man, standing in front of the mirror, stretches his arms out to his sides, a powerful aura suddenly emanating from his body as a mysterious wind shakes the crystal chandelier and the charred curtains. “O, Mirror of Darkness, guide these children back to where they belong!” you close your eyes in anticipation, waiting to wake up somewhere in the streets or inside the police station. ‘Just get us out of here!’

Yet, there’s a terrifying silence, one that takes what feels like hours to break, but in reality, it’s a few seconds. “It is nowhere to be found. Nowhere in this world does there exist a place where these three souls belong,” the voice booms the terrifying reality and the whispers of the students come back at full force.

You can't describe how you feel right now, the only word that comes to mind is "dread." You want to cry, scream at the sky, curse whoever dragged you to this place. You place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating a mile an hour, your breath coming in short gasps as you try to calm yourself internally. 'Now is not the time, I have to keep a cool head, I have nothing to gain if I just start to panic!'

“That can't be true! If our place doesn't exist, how is it possible that the carriage picked us up!?” Yuuken appears on your left side, his face drained of color, and you notice his chest rise and fall rapidly, experiencing the same emotions as you. The blonde man on your opposite side is eerily quiet, however, you feel him nod at the black-haired words. 

It’s true what Yuuken says, how can the mirror possibly claim that the world you’re from doesn’t exist? Unless you’ve somehow been living inside a simulation, your body once occupied a physical space back in your world where you experience sensations like touch, smell, and taste. 

You suffered from injuries, a broken finger, scraped knees, knife cuts, burns, and even two rejections. You’ve laughed, smiled, cried, been angry, felt proud, scared and so many other emotions in places that you remember clearly in your memory. 

At this point, you’ve come to accept that you’re nowhere near home, you’re stuck in a place where magic is real and palpable, perhaps you’ve somehow ended up in a different plane of existence, but, for your world to not be even real? 

No… that can’t be… claiming that your world does not exist is a blatant lie! Whatever is going on here, either somebody is hiding the truth and playing dumb or your captor has decided to play a cruel game and involve other people in it. ‘That mirror is by far the most suspicious one out of anyone in the room, but it looks like he won’t let up easily, so how can I get answers from him?’

“Where are you three from again?” you’re snapped out of your thoughts by the gentle voice of the crow man, who in your stupor, failed to notice him has turned around to face you three. His golden gaze is a lot softer as he addresses the three of you, most likely taking pity at the words of the mirror.

“We're from a town called Kotohira, in Kagawa Prefecture, Japan,” the faces of those in front of you are painted with puzzled expressions, the red-head even closing his eyes in an attempt to rack his brain attempting to remember if there even is a place with that name in this world. Unfortunately, judging by the crow man’s expression, your hometown doesn’t ring a bell.

“Where exactly is this? Many of our students come from all over the world, but I've never heard of this place,” suddenly, as if an idea had dawned on him, the crow man's eyes narrowed as a hand scratches his chin. His soft eyes quickly switching to a scrutinizing gaze. “Are you... please don't tell me you three are lying to me.”

‘I wish I had selective hearing like these guys.’ You're tired, you're usually good at debating and dealing with stubborn people, experience from school and multiple part-time jobs have blessed you with those skills, but it seems the exhaustion of the day coupled with an existential crisis has completely drained you to the bone. You just want to go home.

A tired and purposely loud sigh leaves your lips as your hands dig through your bag, looking for your wallet. “Believe me, we have nothing to gain by lying to you. Here, you two... if you have any kind of identification, we should show it to him to clear our names,” you don't wait for the others as you hand two small cards to the crow man: one is an Individual Number Card and the other is a motorcycle license. You point a finger towards the residency line, as the crow man examines the small object with great interest.

The other two dig through their pockets as well, Yuuken hands over his high school ID, while the blond man almost hands over three cards, but chooses at the last minute to give only one to the crow man, a Japanese driver's license. Though he quickly tucks it away, you manage to catch a glimpse of the other two IDs, noticing that each is a different color and even has a different language.

The extravagant man examines the cards, yet shakes his head after a few seconds. "I see... my, this is quite puzzling. I'm terribly sorry, but I've never heard of this place before, so if the mirror says it can't return you there... I'm afraid I can't do much either", the crow man hands you back your IDs with a disappointed yet perplexed look.

So this is it? You're stuck here with no way to get home? You feel the color draining from your face as your legs suddenly turn to jelly, the headache increasing in intensity as countless thoughts swirl in your mind. No matter how hard you try to suppress your emotions, you have run out of ideas on how to get home, as such, panic has made itself home in your cognition.

Fortunately, you don't fall into your dark thoughts when Yuuken suddenly grabs your wrist and looks at the crow man with a fierce gaze. “If the carriage found a way to get us here from our world, we can find it ourselves. So we'll make it back on our own. Thank you very much for your help!” you don't get a chance to protest as the Kendo student begins to drag you towards the exit. 

His grip is rather gentle on your wrist, the complete opposite of the harsh tone he used to address the rest of the people in the room. Yet you can’t help but go into overdrive at the idea the kendo student proposed. “Wait, Enma, how is that going to work? We don't even know what path the carriage took!” you whisper to him, worried about where to start looking. 

Yet Yuuken simply turns to you, a small smile on his face, switching his grip from your wrist to hold your left hand, those sharp eyes giving you a warm look, as if to comfort you. “Sorry, but it's better than just standing here and dealing with these guys, right?” well, he has a good point. 

The blond man, amused by the whole confrontation, doesn't spare a glance at the stunned crowd as he quietly follows you two, the pain from the earlier fall not affecting his movements at all. You make a mental note to check for bruises on his torso once you're in a safe place away from all these people, as you highly doubt that falling from that height would leave him unscathed.

“Goodness! You three! Hold on a second!” as if snapping from a dream, believing that the words declared by Yuuken were nothing but a product of his imagination, the crow suddenly shouts, his voice now sounding far away. 

At a fast pace, you and the other two men finally reach the gigantic oak doors that shield this room from the outside world, ignoring the command of the extravagant man. Yuuken uses his free hand to push the doors open, a gust of wind invades the room, in its invisible yet short path, it ruffles and messes with the hair and clothes of those sitting near the entrance and blows out the candles on a candelabra that managed to survive the monster's attack.

The air feels very good on your skin, which still suffers from the high temperature caused by the beast's fire. It's a momentary relief from the turmoil that has taken place in less than an hour.

“My, this landscape looks like something out of a fantasy book. What a breathtaking view,” the blond man's voice startles you as he suddenly stands at your right side, causing you to turn your head to look at him in surprise. The man chuckles softly at your reaction before his slender fingers gently grasp your chin, forcing you to look at what lies before you.

Your cheeks turn slightly red and warm at the sudden contact but you have to agree with his statement, as in front of you stretches a magnificent huge land filled with trees and night lights, and nestled among the lush greenery are various gothic-style buildings. At the edge of the horizon, you notice the majestic and ever-expanding blue deep sea hidden behind pointy rocky mountains, while the beautiful moon hangs over it, its warm yellow light reflected in the ripples of the water. 

‘We are either on an island or somewhere near the beach. In either case, we might be near a port. The crow man did say that the students from this school come from all over the world, perhaps the carriage or our coffins were transported via boat.’

However, Yuuken isn't as mesmerized by the view, and he drops his gym bag while looking up at the sky in utter shock. Following his gaze, you notice several cloaked students floating in the air as they mount antique broomsticks. "Dude, Misato's gonna fucking flip out when we tell him what happened at the entrance ceremony," two students laugh as they fly off, most likely to harass their friend.

The Kendo student rubs his eyes hastily, as if he had just woken up and thought he was still dreaming. “I’m not seeing things, right?… Pembroke, where are we?” he sounds so desperate and lost as he questions what he sees. Your stomach twists in knots as you can’t find a feasible answer to give him, you just shake your head with a solemn look. 

If the thought that your home doesn't exist and that you're somewhere you can't recognize is driving you to near despair and madness, you can't even begin to imagine how your other two companions feel. They were ripped away from their families, friends, and their lives, ending up in an unknown magical fantasy world with hostile people and no current way to return.

The blond man, however, seems more curious about his surroundings than worried, perhaps that is his way of dealing with whatever is going on. He begins to walk down the massive flight of stone stairs, pausing momentarily to turn to look back at you two with a mischievous smile yet his eyes are warm. “Weren’t you the one who suggested we find our way back? Let's go, we lose precious minutes just standing around.”

The man extends his hand towards you, the jewels on his fingers shining beautifully against the moonlight and this whole scene reminds you of the end of a fairy tale, where the protagonists set out on their way to the unknown destination.

However, there is something that has been eating at your brain out of pure curiosity since the moment the blond opened his eyes. The description of the two policemen inside the file room repeats itself over and over again every time your sight lands on the man. “Excuse me, before we go, I want to ask you a question,” you walk down a couple of stairs to stand in front of him, having to tilt your head up a little to be able to look him in the eyes. He nods, a flash of curiosity momentarily lighting his eyes up at your question.

"You are... Figaro Koskela, right?" upon hearing his name leave your lips, you notice his face darken, and what seems like a scowl etches on his face, but it is a reaction that is practically fleeting, being replaced with a mocking smile. “Oh my, what a lovely surprise! Are you perhaps a fan of my work?” you can clearly hear that his cheerful tone is completely forced, compared to the way he mocked Riddle earlier which seemed a lot more natural. You don't understand why his name brings him such disgust, but you won't pry on it.

“Unfortunately, I haven't had the pleasure of witnessing your works. Actually, I know you because you disappeared two days ago while returning from a party,” his eyes widen and you notice his elegant air disappear the moment the words leave your mouth. You turn to look at the Kendo student, who is now paying close attention to the conversation between the two of you. “Yuuken... you too have been declared missing, after you left the gym.”

You don't waste a single breath as you tell them everything you know: the information you gathered at the police station, the bizarre sound, and the corrupted CCTV footage. You also quietly accept that you've most likely suffered the same fate as your two companions have.

Yuuken's face turns pale and his lips tremble as you recount his grandmother's sobs and worried face, he quickly ducks his head and hides his face from you as a hand shoots up and harshly wipes away his tears. Fígaro, on the other hand, looks somber, lost in his thoughts as he stares at the horizon. 

You didn't want to hide any of this, as it might be important information to explain why you suddenly appeared in this strange world. But seeing their reaction, your stomach twists into knots as you scratch your fingers nervously. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," you apologize softly, but your voice snaps both men out of their thoughts. Yuuken sniffles, painfully trying to hide his feelings from you and puts on a strong front, though his red and swollen eyes betray him. “No, it's okay. Thank you for telling us,” Fígaro nods at the black-haired words, and his dark expression changes to one of warmth. “We should still follow Enma's original plan, it might lead us back home.”

But before you can nod in agreement, a pair of hurried footsteps catches up with you and you turn to face the crow man, who is standing at the giant doors, slightly out of breath and clutching his staff to his chest. “You three... my, you walk fast... it's dangerous to walk around at night in a place you don't know! Especially since you three have no magical abilities,” the crow man chokes on his breath as he speaks in a rather shrill tone. His expensive shoes click loudly on the stone steps as he walks towards you three, his decorated fingers ruffling his feathered coat, dusting off any dirt, and adjusting his mask.

He clears his throat as the tip of his wooden cane thumps loudly on the floor. “But since I'm so gracious, I have a suggestion!” you cringe quietly at his self-complement, but Fígaro and Yuuken seem more interested in the latter part of his sentence, paying close attention to the extravagant man. “There's an empty house that was once used as a dormitory. It would break my heart to kick you out, so you three can stay there in the meantime!”

The suggestion sounds good, in fact, considering your circumstances, it sounds almost too perfect. He was so adamant just a moment ago that non-magical students can’t be here, and yet, he suddenly offers a home? Even though the crow man seems more than excited about the proposal, you still have your doubts, and it seems that your companions do as well.

“Wait, wait, don't be too hasty, there's a catch, isn't there? I highly doubt that you're just offering us a free place to stay out of the goodness of your heart…” There are kind people in this world, you don't doubt it, but something tells you that this man isn't just going to let you stay here for free, even if he's aware of your circumstances. 

Of course, you hit the nail right on the head as the crow man closes his eyes and smiles at you with a wide grin. "Ah, you would make such an exemplary student! Why, yes! I can't just let you mooch off me, so, food and clothing will have to come out of your own pockets," he walks by the three of you, his cape flowing with the wind, and quickly turns to face you, though, you can't help but feel slightly intimidated by him.

“As such, I would like you to do some jobs around the campus. Don’t worry the pay is good” - you highly doubt that-  “Oh my, my kindness truly knows no bounds!” you cringe at his abundant self-love, but thankfully, the crow man doesn’t notice as he heads down the stairs with a slight bounce. “Now, come along, children!”

As the night wind blows caressing your skin, you look up to face the dark sky that’s decorated with small silver stars and the comforting moon. Somewhere out there, is your world, your home, slowly rotating. There, in Kotohira, your family must be worried for you, desperately searching for you in every nook and cranny. Yuuken’s grandparents and Fígaros guardians are most likely conflicted and distressed as their children are nowhere to be found.

‘Will we… be able to return home one day?’ After all, the proposition of a place to stay and a job is a sign that you won’t get out of here any time soon.

Yuuken, sensing your distress as you failed to move from your spot, gently intertwined your hand with his and slightly tugs at it, directing your attention from the never-ending void to his eyes. A warm gaze comforts your nervousness and you can’t help but return his kindness with a small smile. “Come on, let’s go.”

You nod and follow along. However, you fail to notice a pair of green eyes watching you.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Tag list:

@rotknox @agaygothicmushroom @sherryclover @mielle-estelar @yuriluvr2000 @Shironakuronatasa @yourlocalhot-simp

[newwritergirl]

Startin over | Part 13

Masterlist

Summary: After another date with Jake and Bradley, y/n's upcomming migraine will not stay the only problem. The Admiral und Maverick have bad news for the aviators.

Trigger Warnings: 18+! Minors DNI, past abusive relationship, toxic male, migraine, throwing up, au and ooc, poly relationship

A/N: This chapter is a bit longer but I didn't want to split it. Please let me know what you think.

Word Count: 5.4+ k

"Wow, Hangman. I must admit you look really good in a suit." Rooster steps into the kitchen where the blonde pilot stands at the kitchen island waiting for their partners to get ready. He strokes softly over Jake's back, getting a smirk from the other man as a reply.

"Where's y/n? We need to go in the next five minutes." Jake asks impatiently but taking the chance to take a look at Bradley who wears a crisp white button down, the first two buttons open which gives a sneak of his muscular chest and a black suit.

"Princess, Jake is a bit impa-" Bradley nearly chokes on his own words when y/n steps out of her bedroom. Her short and tight black dress is hugging her body perfectly. "I'm ready, is this ok?" She turns around to give her boyfriends an all over view of her chosen dress. She's clearly not wearing a bra in the backless garment. Jake turns around when he hears the clicking of heels on the hard wood floor.

"Good Lord, sweet Jesus help me…" The blonde aviator takes a step closer to meet his girlfriend half way, taking one of her smaller hands in his and turning her around to get one more look at her bare back. "…okay? This is not okay, sweetheart. This is fucking amazing. You look so amazing. Beautiful. I guess Bradley also wouldn't mind if we stay here and enjoying the view." He kisses her head.

"Oh no, guys. You promised me another date. So here I am." The young woman says with an excited smile. She looked forward to their date, just the three of them enjoying a slow night out in a fancy restaurant.

"You're right, princess. Let's go, otherwise we gonna be late and we have to be at work tomorrow, so let's enjoy our evening." The brunette aviator tucks y/n in his side, gently caressing her bare back. "But Jake's right, you look absolutely amazing. We have to keep a close eye on you otherwise some rich guy will steal you from us."

---

The restaurant the boys chose to have their date with y/n was amazing. Not too snobbish but fancy enough to spoil their girlfriend rotten. Unfortunately they all have to work tomorrow but with Rooster as the designated driver Jake and y/n share an expensive bottle of wine. But during the five-course menu y/n feels that something is wrong. She knows this strange taste in her mouth, it often is a clear sign for an incoming migraine attack. When she's really lucky it will be the only symptom despite a small headache, but on her bad days it means that a bad migraine will attack in the next hours or at the next day.

"You not so hungry anymore, princess?" Bradley asks as he sees his girlfriend second plate still half full despite the small portions.

Y/n doesn't want to crash their night. Jake had to pull some strings to get a reservation at short notice and all three of them were happy when he announced that he got a table for three for that night. No, she can't tell them her bad feeling about the very prominent metallic taste in her mouth and how the smell of the food is currently too strong for her. She has to stay put and hope that this will not turn out as a bad attack and praying that she will get off lightly this time. In the past she often felt ashamed when she fell ill, either her kidney acting up or her migraine coming back. Being vulnerable and asking for help is something she had to learn when she moved in with the two naval pilots. They were always supporting and caring when she felt sick but still she is a bit afraid that there will come the day when it's going to be too much for the two men, when they're annoyed that she is once more sick or feeling bad from a nasty headache.

"Sure I am, but there are three more courses to come and I'm excited for the dessert. Meringue with ice cream and fruits is my weakness." Y/n tries to reassure her boyfriends. Don't show them weakness, they're going to leave you one day. Who wants to always take care of their whiny girlfriend?

---

Fortunately y/n got through the evening without a grand attack. The metallic taste stayed in her mouth a dull pressure built up in her head but other than that she was spared of feeling worse.

Now laying in bed with Jake and Bradley brings her the much needed rest. With her smaller form in the middle of both pilots she feels safe and loved. Soon her eyes drop shut.

Jake doesn't know what woke him up in the middle of the night. With one tired glance at the clock on the nightstand he knows that it's way too early for his alarm. Another kick lands to his thigh not strong enough to hurt him but enough to wake him up. He turns around and is just fast enough to catch the small fist of his girlfriend before it lands in his face. That must've been the reason for his early awakening. Y/n is trashing and moving in her sleep. Usually she's a very calm sleeper, when she doesn't suffer from a nightmare. But today she's constantly moving and turning in her sleep, the sheets already tangled around her body. Small whimpers leaving her occasionally. It's still dark in the bedroom but Jake's eyes adjust fast so he can clearly see the crease on his girlfriend's face. With a gentle touch he strokes some stray wisps of her hair behind her ear. With his thumb he gently runs over her forehead in a soothing manner. It seems like her dream isn't so bad that he has to wake her up, she's not crying or screaming in her sleep, just mumbling some unintelligible words so he tries to sooth her while she's still asleep. Waking her up from her deep slumber is always startling her and he doesn't want to scare so he tries to calm her down this way. The blonde aviator tucks her into his warm chest after he untangled her limps from the blanket and lays it over both of them to keep her somewhat chilled body warm. In a hushed and soft voice he whispers sweet nothing into her ear when she once more tries to kick her legs and pushes her hand into his chest. "Shhh, you're safe, babygirl. It's just me Jake-y. I got you, baby."

---

“Are you ready to go? Where’s y/n?” Bradley asks as he put his mug away in the dishwasher already in his navy clothes ready to start the day and head to the base.

Jake was the first of the three to wake up and get out of the warm comfort of the bed. There was no use in staying any longer. He had a hard night with y/n trashing and wiggling in his arms. He held her close and soothed her but shortly after he fell asleep she started to whimper and turning again.

“I let her sleep a bit longer. She had a rough night, kept tossing and turning. Even kicked and hit me. Don’t what was wrong with her, but I guess she needed a bit more sleep this morning. We will meet you at the base.”

Bradley looks concerned when his partner tells him about the bad night y/h had. Hopefully it stays the exception. Since the three of them were in a relationship and they often sleep together in a bed y/n hasn’t had a bad night or a night terror.

“Oh okay. I keep your class on their toes until you arrive.” The brunette pilot places a kiss on Hangman’s cheek and hurries out the door, that way at least one of them will be on time.

---

Waking up dizzy and still with the metallic taste in her mouth y/n immediately knows that her day is going to be rough. She feels like she hasn’t slept one bit this night, her limps feeling heavy and a dull ache is forming behind her eyes. But she has to get up now and get ready for work. She has tasks she wants to finish today and to call in sick is definitely not an option. She will drag herself through the day without alerting her boyfriends that something is wrong with her and just go to bed early in the evening. Yes, that’s seems to be the best battle plan but only if the major migraine attack stays away.

---

Jake and Bradley are busy with training their recruits and to prepare them for their flight training later that day. Y/n is thankful for that for once, so she can suffer in her office in silence. When her mobile chirps and alerts her that she has a notification she’s happy to see that it’s a message from Bradley. She unlocks her phone and is greeted with a cute selfie of both her boys standing in all their glory already wearing their flight suits.

Roo-y: Hello Princess. We’re about to start the flight training. Having a tight schedule today <3 We’ll see u in the afternoon. Love u!

Her heart starts to pick up. She really loves these two morons. She types a fast reply in hopes that they will see her message before they start their jets.

Looking all good in your fight suits *.* Please be careful. See u later <3

She wants to desperately write an ‘I love you’ back, but wants her first ‘I love you’ to be told in person. She wants to see their faces, looking in their eyes. And she needs a bit more courage to do so.

---

It always starts this way, with a blind spot in the middle of her field of vision which will spread soon to the edges until it will morph into tiny little flashes. The dull ache behind her eyes is now slowly developing into full migraine attack. The letters and numbers on the sheet in front of her are growing hazy and the midday sun which filters through her office windows feels like a knife stabs in her sensitive eyes. This is going to be bad with no way out for the young woman. She knows the drill. Soon she will be dizzy and nauseous with a skull piercing headache which makes her incapable of acting. Her hands start to shake, what is she going to do? Both Bradley and Jake are in the air now, probably will be there for some more time. She has to try to sustain for some hours until they’re ready to drive her home. With trembling hands she rummages through the drawer of her wooden desk, desperately searching for some painkillers to take away the edge of the splitting headache. The items in the drawer are all blurred and it’s hard for the young woman to think straight. Dizzy and with weak legs she stands up from her desk, she needs to get to the bathroom. Cold water on her wrists should help with her dizziness a tiny bit. She nearly collapses before she can even get to her closed office door. A loud knock is bringing her out of her confused thoughts.

“Ms. y/ln. I just got that… Ms. y/ln, are you okay?” The Admiral immediately sees that something is wrong with the younger woman. She’s standing on shaky legs white as ghost in front of him using the desk as support. He instantly grabs her by her shoulders and leads her back into her chair.

“Do you need a doctor, Miss?” He crouches down in front the smaller woman and one more time lays a hand on one of her shoulders to get her attention, growing worried when she looks at him with unfocused eyes.

“Admiral, Sir…” She tries to stand up, she has highly respect of the man in front of her. Not only because he is her superior. When she started as the new and first IT-specialist at the base he was, despite all the warnings from the Daggers, always friendly and supportive with her. He never gave her the impression she’s not part of the team. As a civilian she had no idea how everything works, let alone how to act around the Admiral or other highly ranked Navy members. But it seems like he has a spot for her, so he was very loose with her from the start.

“Please stay seated, Miss. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Bad migraine, I’m sorry, Sir.” Her words already a bit slurred.

With an understanding nod he pats her shoulder. “Okay. How do we do it then? Rooster and Hangman are still in the air. But I don’t want you to wait here in your condition. Let me get someone to bring you home. I would feel better if I know you can lay down at home and take some painkillers. Is that okay, Miss y/ln?” With both her boyfriends still in the air the Admiral has only one option, he needs to asks Welsh to take the sick woman home. The guy is as useless as they come. And he can’t wait to kick him of his base already. But to take his IT-specialist home seems like a simple enough task for this scapegrace.

---

That's why she finds herself now in a Navy issued SUV on the way to their shared house. Despite the spacious driver's cab she feels cramped. The tangy smell of the man's aftershave increases the feeling nausea. Her field of vision is still dominated by colorful flashes and a blind spot on the right side. That and the hammering pain in her head which throbs with every heartbeat makes it difficult for her to concentrate on the streets. With Welsh so close to her she feels vulnerable. From the beginning the guy gave her the creeps. At his first days on the base he tried to flirt with her but not in a funny or friendly way like Jake or Bradley did. His behavior, his choice of words, his dark eyes which always seem to follow her made her scared from the start. She prays that the drive to Jake's and Bradley's house is as fast as possible over and she can stumble into their cozy home and hide herself in one of the boy's beds.

"So…how is it to live with two Naval pilots in a house? If they're as bossy as they're on base, I should probably feel sorry for you." Welsh's loud voice brings her out of her daydream. His devilish laugh at the end of his sentence makes her flinch. Why is he starting a conversation with her? She heard the Admiral told him that she has a bad migraine attack. Her heartrate picks up which only increases the painful throbbing behind her eyes.

"It's good. They're good roommates." She answers in a quiet voice in great hope that this would end the unpleasant conversation. Y/n feels the man's eyes on her after he stops at a red light.

"Hmm, good roommates… But what if, let's say you want to bring a guy home?" His voice gets a dangerous undertone and y/n feels more and more unsafe in the presence of the man beside her.

"I - I don't bring men home…" But before she can finish her sentence she feels a finger tracing down her arm, the short fingernail scraping her sensitive skin. Y/n flinches and withdraws her arm as fast as she can. A shudder is passing through her body. She can feel the bile rising in her throat.

"A beautiful woman like you doesn't bring guys home? Playing hard to get, darling?"

Y/n feels relegated right back into her past. Feeling small helpless at the hand of a sadistic man. She curls further into the seat turning her body to be closer to the passenger door, away from Welsh. The line he traced with his finger is burning on her skin. She is disgusted. Her heart is racing but she holds back the tears with all her might. She doesn't want to show more weakness by crying in the car in front of him. Fortunately he ends the forced conversation at this point, looking confident with the outcome of the intimidation of the small woman in the passenger seat. First rule: show them who is in charge, intimidate them. Then go further.

When Welsh turns into the all too familiar road and finally parks the car in the driveway of their home she hastily fumbles with her seatbelt. She can't stay one second longer in the presence of this man.

"Wow, nice house. Really cute, good neighborhood. I guess it's really cozy in there…"

When y/n stumbles out of the car she can hear his voice shouting after her. "I can help you inside, darling."

But she just hurries to the front door without looking back. She has to open the door and then she's safe. Her hands are shaking so badly and her vision problems are making it difficult for her to get the key into the lock. In her panic she doesn't notice that Welsh is already backing out of the driveway.

---

Y/n doesn't know how long she sat there, on the cold hardwood floor with her back to the front door. When she finally unlocked the door her dizziness was so bad that she only managed to close and lock the door and let herself slide down onto the floor. With her throbbing head in her hands she started to cry silently. Panic gasps tumbled out of her mouth, her heart seemed to explode in her ribcage.

On wobbly legs she finally has the strength to make her way into her bathroom to get her migraine medication and a glass of water. Clad in only an old Navy shirt of Bradley or Jake she crawls in Jake's bed, inhaling his lingering scent, eventually feeling safe.

---

The training session was greatly successful, leaving the recruits and their instructors exhausted but content. On days like this Bradley and Jake are happy that they and the Dagger Crew accept the generous offer to be permanent at Miramar, teaching the new fighter pilots of the US Navy.

"Finally finished for today, I'm so ready to go home." Bradley says as he looks at his phone.

"Yeah, let's get our girl and head home." Jake replies in a light tone patting his partner on the shoulder. He can't wait to get home with Rooster and y/n, envelope both in his arms and cuddle for the rest of the evening on their big and comfy couch. Before both reach the locker room to store away their helmets and flight suits a loud voice is interrupting their chatter.

"Hangman, Rooster. The Admiral and I have to talk to you. Nice training by the way." Maverick instructs them clearly aware of the annoyed looks he receives from both men.

---

"At ease! Take a seat" Bradley and Jake do as the Admiral tells them. Both clearly surprised why the Admiral and Maverick have to talk to them at this time of the day after their long flight training.

"First of all, I had to send Ms. y/ln home late in the morning. She was feeling unwell, suffering from a migraine. Welsh was so friendly and took her home."

Both men share a worried look, Jake nearly on the verge to storm out of the Admiral's office. Maverick's firm hand holding him in his seat.

"I don't want to hold you two here any longer. But Mr. Mitchell has important news for you." The Admiral knows y/n's past. Before she could start to work at the base he had to do a detailed background check. But with her high reputation her former employer gave her and Maverick's powers of persuasion he could overlook the fact that she is a civilian and that her ex could be a possible safety risk. When Pete told him her whole story, the reason why she has to move states that fast, his heart went out for her. For outsiders he always looks like the clinical Navy Admiral, but deep down he has a big heart and a great soft spot for his young IT-specialist. So he dearly understands the huge protectiveness his two aviators feel for her.

"I know that your contract clearly says that you two are permanent instructors for TopGun, without any long term…"

"We are not going on another suicide mission." Jake interrupts Pete immediately. In no case he or Bradley are going on another mission, gamble with their life, leaving y/n.

"Seresin, keep calm!" The Admiral barges in. Jake's posture stiffens but indicates Maverick to continue.

"The USS Harry S. Truman needs some instructors on the carrier. Phoenix and Fanboy will accompany you. Bob and Coyote are going to supervise your trainees at the base."

"How long?" Bradley looks as unamused as Jake. Both don't want to leave their girlfriend alone. Of course she is a grown woman and can handle herself but their relationship is still very new and he knows that they would constantly worry about her when they're away. With her health issues she doesn't rely on help, but both would feel better if one of them would stay back home.

"We assume that you will stay there for at least two weeks. But it will depend on how fast you can train the crew. The good news is that the carrier is currently stationed in the pacific near Hawaii and will stay nearby during the training mission." The Admiral rises to speak to the men.

"When do we have to fly out?" Jake asks while clenching his teeth.

---

The drive home was silent, a dreading silence with both men deep in thought. With heavy hearts and worried for their girlfriend who is probably still suffering from her migraine attack. They have to leave Miramar in three days. Thursday they're going to fly out to the USS Harry Truman and they have yet to tell their girlfriend, their currently sick girlfriend. How could that somewhat decent day turns out to be such a disappointment.

---

"The door is locked?!" Bradley states when he tries to open the front door of their house. Usually y/n doesn't lock the front door when she is at home, she did that a lot at the beginning of her living with Rooster and Hangman. But nowadays she feels safe enough to not lock the door when she's inside the house, in addition to that it's not possible to open their front door from the outside without a key.

Both men step into their cozy home as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake up their sick girlfriend in case she's still resting.

The brunette pilot opens y/n's bedroom door slowly and pokes his head inside the room, but her bed is empty and untouched. She has to made herself comfortable in one of their bedrooms, seeking comfort in one of their beds. That's the moment the two men hear painful coughs and retching coming out of the master bathroom.

Jake is the first to open the door to the grand bathroom which is used usually by the two men because y/n has her own en-suite bathroom. And there she is, sitting miserable on the cold tiles in front the toilet violently gagging with her whole body shaking like a leave.

"Oh baby…" Jake wastes no time and kneels immediately beside the smaller woman. But to his surprise she flinches away from him when he touches her back in a soothing manner. Her eyes fly open and there's a clear look of panic in her big eyes. She needs a moment to recognize one of her boyfriends beside her when another violent wave of nausea hits her like a train.

"It's okay y/n. I got you, don't fight it." Jake reassures her while supporting her body when she starts to throw up once again. She reaches blindly for Jake, squeezing his thigh weakly with a clammy hand. Bradley sits on her other side running a cool washcloth over her neck, catching a tear that makes its way down her pale cheeks. When there's finally nothing more in her system to throw up and also the dry heaves stop she slumps her body into Jake's.

"You done, sweetheart?" he asks in a worried tone while supporting her body to keep her in a sitting position. When he looks at her face he sees how pale she is almost ashen with cold sweat coating her forehead.

"Migraine." The small woman whispers even her own voice is hurting in her head. "M-medication." Her voice slightly slurred.

"You due for another round of your painkillers? I will get them and something for the nausea." Bradley strokes her cheek gently before he stands up to make his way to her bathroom to get the much needed painkillers and something to prevent her from throwing up more.

She curls further into Jake's warm body when he starts to massage her temples. He picks up the cool washcloth to put it back on y/n's neck but the sudden cold feeling surprises the trembling girl and her hand flies to Jake's chest fisting his shirt in an attempt ground herself.

"J-Jake." She gasps looking up at the blonde man holding her in his arms.

"I'm here, sweetcakes. You ready to get up?"

She nods her head into his chest, breathing in his scent. Despite her bad migraine attack Jake's odor doesn't make her sick, it grounds her, remind her that she's safe here, that she's home. On the contrary to the strong aftershave of Welsh. She shudders, she tries to shove the thought of his fingers touching her arm and his strong words in the back of her head.

After brushing her teeth to get the disgusting taste out of her mouth Jake takes her back to his bed. Tucking her in after Bradley gave her the medication to finally give her the release from the hammering headache she already suffers for hours.

"Can you stay with me? Please…" Y/n whispers as both her boyfriends kiss her forehead.

"Of course. We change and then we will lay down with you." Bradley caresses her cheek. He and Jake have to talk first, but he keeps that from her. They both know they have to talk to her as fast as possible but not when she is suffering from a bad migraine attack and is barely coherent. A small 'thank you' can be heard as the aviators leave the bedroom. She is the best that ever happened to them, that fact is clear.

---

"Hey, come here." Bradley opens his arms, he knows that Jake always suffers when y/n is sick, nearly as much as she does. But due to the situation that they have to fly out in the next days and leave her here alone he needs a bit more affection. Jake doesn't hesitate and gladly hugs his partner, he needs this comfort now. He would feel a lot better when he knows how long their deployment on the carrier will last, how long they have to leave y/n alone.

"I'm gonna miss her, Rooster. I'm worried to leave her."

Bradley tightens his hold he has on the blonde aviator. He is worried, too. But he doesn't know why and that scares him the most. Y/n is capable to be alone, even sick she can take care of herself, but she shouldn't. She should have them at her side, she suffered long enough alone on the hands of her ex. With Jake and Bradley at her side she should always be safe and never lonely.

"Me too, I will miss her too. We have to tell her as soon as possible. Hopefully she will feel better tomorrow."

---

The mattress dips beside her a big figure is crawling under the sheets she's huddled under. Y/n lets out a small whimper as she feels cold air spreads under the warm blanket.

"Shh, sweetheart. Go back to sleep." Jake speaks in a hushed tone as he tucks his girlfriend into his muscular chest. Her small hands wander immediately over his ribcage further up to his chest and rest directly over his heart. Felling the heartbeat of either one of her boyfriends is always calming her down and lulling her back so sleep. But she misses the other aviator dearly. "Roo-y?" She whispers into the dark room in great hope that her brunette partner is also joining them.

"I'm here, princess." She hears his deep voice behind her, a soft kiss is placed on the shell of her ear. With a content sigh she grabs one of his hands as he lays behind her, his chest pressing into her back. Finally she's in between the two man she calls her boyfriends. Before she's finally asleep again a nearly inaudible 'I love you' is coming out of her mouth. She finally said it, she loves them with all her heart. Her body goes limp, feeling safe and content to sleep off her headache.

---

"Morning." Bradley's voice still sick with sleep brings Jake out of his daydream. Both men didn't sleep that well last night. Thinking and overthinking how to tell their girlfriend that they have to fly out, teaching some morons on an aircraft carrier somewhere in the pacific ocean.

"Morning, babe. Coffee?" The blonde pilot asks as he's enveloped in a loving hug, feeling the other man's broad chest pressing into his back.

"Please, had a fucking shitty night." Bradley grunts as he ends the hug to get two mugs out of the cupboard.

Before the brunette pilot can rummage any further in of the drawers Jake grabs one of his hands.

"You heard her, yesterday before she fell asleep?" Jake asks looking deep into the warm eyes of his partner.

"Yes I did. Made my heart skip a beat. Fuck, I'm so thankful that she stumbles into our life." Even half asleep and not more than a shy and soft whisper both men heard the three most precious words out of y/n's mouth. To say the timing was awful with them going away is an understatement. But it is what it is. They have to tell her and make the best out of the next two days before their departure.

"Yes, but we have to tell her that we will leave her…"

---

Y/n wakes up slightly confused taking the heavy painkillers combined the anti-nausea medication leaves her always slightly confused and dizzy the next day. Fortunately the deadly painful headache is just a dull ache behind her eyes. She takes a look at the alarm on the nightstand and she knows that she has to hurry up she is already late for work. Peeling herself out of the warm and comfy bed leaving the content feeling of being safe and sound in Jake's bed behind she slightly stumbles as she makes her way to the door. She needs a proper shower so she has to go into her own bathroom in case she doesn't want to wash her hair with the guy's all-in-5 shower gel. She grabs the water glass from last night paddles with her bare feet to the door opening it quietly when she immediately hears Jake and Bradley talking.

"You heard her, yesterday before she fell asleep?" She can hear Jake asking.

Her hand flies to her mouth. She didn't dream it. She really said 'I love you' to them. She wanted to tell them at the right moment not when she just throw up her guts, with messy hair and confused from pain and medication.

"Yes, but we have to tell her that we will leave her…"

They will leave her. She said she loves them and they will leave her. Her hands start to tremble. She knew that this moment will come and here it is. She is certain that she has too much baggage, is too clingy and too vulnerable. And now yesterday puking her guts out like a disgusting little girl and then she telling them 'I love you' must have been the last straw. She ruined everything. The trembling in her hands increases and with a loud bang the water glass in her hand dashes to shivers on the floor just beneath her feet.

@djs8891

@darksparklesficrecs

[sjsmith56]

Neighbourly

Summary: Bucky meets the new neighbour but it doesn’t go well at first.

Length: 5.4 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, OFC (named but not described), OMC (2 named characters, one described, one not)

Warnings: Cursing, Bucky being a bit of grumpy jerk at first, reference to bad marriage, ex-husband makes an appearance, Bucky’s inner voices chew him out a bit.

Author notes: This is quite fluffy.

🪟 💐 🍕

The first time they met was when a big crash from the hallway outside Bucky’s apartment door startled him. Then he heard the swearing even over the sound of his music.

“Fucking shitty paper bag!” yelled the female voice.

He stood at his door looking out the peephole, seeing a woman bent over picking up scattered groceries and muttering. Unlocking his door, he opened it, causing her to glance in his direction.

“Need help?” he asked.

There was a big sigh, then she looked up and hesitated when she made eye contact.

“No, I can handle it.” She bent back over, then looked over her shoulder. “Thanks anyway.”

“Suit yourself,” he replied and closed the door, returning to his book and his music.

The second time they met was about a week later when he heard three knocks on his door. Looking out the peephole he saw the same woman, facing his door. Unlocking his, he opened it and gazed down at her. She swallowed, as if realizing he was bigger than she originally thought, then scratched her head.

“I locked myself out and the super isn’t answering the door or my phone calls. One of the neighbours said you sometimes are willing to climb up the fire escape and … and break in.”

Bucky resisted the urge to smile but folded his arms over his chest.

“What’s in it for me?”

“What?”

“It’ll cost you.”

“How much?”

He shrugged. “How much you got?”

She clamped her mouth shut, as if attempting to stave off something from coming out of it, then shook her head.

“Never mind. I’ll figure something out.”

Turning away she headed for the stairwell, and he closed his door, locking it. That was when he heard the crying, and he slumped against the wall.

“Good going asshole, you made her cry.”

“I was only joking.”

“Yeah, she thought it was hilarious.”

Unlocking his door again, he went to the stairwell where she was sitting on the top step. As she heard him approach, she wiped her eyes with her hands and looked out the window at a building across the street. Silently, he sat next to her and fished out his handkerchief, handing it to her. She took it and wiped her eyes again.

“Sorry, I was trying to be funny, but it wasn’t.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she agreed. “I don’t have much of anything, not even a job, and I burned through a good portion of my savings to move here, which is looking more and more like a stupid decision.”

“Divorce?”

“Something like that.” She sighed. “Can you help me?”

“Yeah, I can. Wait here and I’ll climb up there.”

She nodded and watched as he went down the stairs. A few minutes later, she heard her door open, and she turned around to see him waiting for her in her open doorway. Standing up, she walked towards the big man and entered as he stepped out into the hallway.

“I had to break the lock on your window, so I’ll head to the hardware store and pick up a new one. I can get you a new chain as well, as the one that’s on your door has seen better days.”

“Thank you,” she answered, then she put her hand out. “I’m Brooke.”

He shook her hand, noticing he had forgotten to wear his gloves. “Bucky.”

She nodded, then handed him his handkerchief back and closed the door, locking it. Bucky stood there for a moment, then put his handkerchief back in his pocket. Returning to his apartment he put his jacket and gloves on, and headed to the hardware store, more of a little hole in the wall operated by a bent over old man, Isaac. As the bell over the door tinkled with his arrival, Isaac came out from the back.

“Bucky, what do you need?”

“A new window lock and a door chain,” he replied, letting the old man search the cluttered shelves for them. “How are you, Isaac?”

“You know how it is for us elderly folks,” he chuckled. “Everywhere hurts but I’m not ready to retire so I work through it. Helps to own the building. If I had to pay the going rent for this size of store, I’d have been out of business years ago.”

“Well, I like your store. Reminds me of when I was a kid and I’d do odd jobs, like sweeping the floor, or cleaning out the storeroom.”

“You need a job, Bucky? If you know bookkeeping, I could use your help.”

“No, I’m on call for the Avengers and can’t commit to regular hours,” replied the super soldier. “My new neighbour needs a job. Maybe I should ask her?”

“A lady? Is she pretty?” Isaac peered up at Bucky with his watery eyes.

“Yeah, she is attractive.”

“You should ask her out. That would be neighbourly.”

“I just met her a week ago and I don’t think she’s looking for company,” answered Bucky. “I think she’s going through a breakup.”

The old man hummed. “That’ll be 8 dollars and 47 cents.” He watched as Bucky opened his wallet, taking out a ten-dollar bill. “Faint heart never won fair lady.”

“I’m not a coward, Isaac,” answered Bucky. “I just don’t want to pressure her when I don’t know her story.”

The old man dropped the change into Bucky’s hand and put the lock and chain into a small paper bag.

“So, start with coffee. That’s no pressure.”

“Thanks, I’ll think about it.”

With a wave, he left the store and headed back to his place. It used to be so easy back in the late 1930s and early 1940s. Women wouldn’t leave him alone, especially when he was in uniform. But that was a lifetime ago and he wasn’t the same man. His anxiety made him clam up or say the wrong thing. A lot of women now were also suspicious of a man who came on too strong, usually with good reason. They sweet talked their way into a woman’s life then made her life miserable by trying to control her, equating it with being masculine. He huffed a little, angry at guys who believed in that alpha male shit.

“You’re working yourself up over it again. Let it go.”

He was getting bothered by thinking of it again and breathed deeply as he walked. Soon, he was at the door to his apartment building and headed up the stairs to his floor. Knocking on Brooke’s door he could hear music inside then footsteps before hearing the sound of her looking out the peephole.

“I have your new lock and chain,” he said, holding the bag up.

She opened the door and stepped back as he stepped in.

“Do you have any tools?”

She shook her head, and he headed back to his place, picking up what he needed. The door was ajar, and he stepped inside to see her unpacking a box of books.

“Me again.” He headed over to the window and unscrewed the broken lock, then lined up the new lock. “Do you have any toothpicks or matchsticks?”

“No, why?”

“I put them in the hole of the old screw, just to fill it in a bit and provide something for the new screw to grab onto. I think I have some. Give me another minute.”

He came back with some wood glue, and several toothpicks and broke them in half. He poured some glue into the holes left behind by the old screws, then stuffed the broken toothpicks into the small holes. After he fitted the new lock over it, he screwed it into place, testing it several times.

“There you go, almost as good as new. Now the door chain.”

She smiled at him and kept unpacking the box, although she glanced over several times as he replaced the door chain. When he tested it, he was satisfied and unlatched the new chain, then opened the door.

“All done.”

“How much do I owe you?” she asked.

“I broke the lock so nothing for that,” he said. “As for the chain … have coffee with me sometime. There’s a nice coffee shop about a block away. I just like regular black coffee so I’m a cheap date, even though it wouldn’t be a date. It would just be neighbours catching up on neighbourhood things.”

A slight smile crossed her face and she nodded.

“Okay, I’ll buy you a coffee. Tomorrow morning at 9:30?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he said, smiling. “See you then.” He stopped. “I almost forgot. The owner of the hardware store is looking for a bookkeeper. I said I would ask if you were interested. His name is Isaac and he’s a sweet old man. If you are interested just tell him you’re my neighbour.”

About 15 minutes later Bucky heard Brooke’s door open and close, and footsteps heading towards the stairwell.

“I guess she’s interested in the job.”

That night, Bucky was called for a mission, and he slipped a note under Brooke’s door explaining that he had to go out of town for work, apologizing for missing their coffee date. It would be another week before he saw her again.

When he returned it was late, he was exhausted, and he fell into bed immediately, still in his clothes. It was light when he woke up and he quickly had a shower, then went across the hall and knocked on the door. There was no answer and as he listened carefully, he couldn’t hear any signs of her being there. He went to the coffee shop, but she wasn’t there so he walked past the hardware store, glancing in and saw her at the counter. Opening the door, he stepped inside, the bell on the door announcing his presence.

“You’re back,” she smiled.

“You’re here,” he answered. Then he looked around, noticing the store wasn’t as cluttered as it had been. “What’s happened here?”

“I got the bookkeeper job, then Isaac asked if I could help him organize the store better, so we worked on it all week and this ….” She gestured all around her. “This is what we did. He asked if I wanted to work the counter as well, so I’ve basically got a full-time job now. What do you think?”

Bucky smiled, noticing how excited she seemed to be. “I’m happy for you. You and Isaac obviously hit it off well. Where is he?”

“He’s upstairs in his apartment having a late breakfast. I could call him for you, if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. I was just hoping for that coffee date.”

“The date that isn’t a date, you mean.” She grinned. “Isaac told me you think I’m attractive.”

“I might have said something to that effect.” His face felt warm. “I guess I have to wait until you have a break.”

“Or, we could have a real date.” Now her face was warm. “I kind of owe you for the job. It’s only fair.”

“Tonight?”

“I’m off at 5, and I would like some time to get ready. Pick me up at 6:30?”

“6:30,” he smiled. “Do you like Italian?”

“Love it.”

“Until then.”

He felt a little self-conscious when he left but when he stepped out onto the street, he felt good that somehow, he managed to change a brief coffee date to a real one. Now, all he had to do was get ready. First, he stopped and picked up some flowers. Despite Sam telling him that men didn’t do that these days it was one habit that he really didn’t want to give up. He liked giving women flowers and he thought Brooke might appreciate the sentiment.

Next, what was he going to wear? Right now, his wardrobe was almost exclusively Tshirts, Henley shirts, and well-worn black or blue jeans. He looked down at his scuffed boots. They wouldn’t do. Perhaps a switch to nicer jeans and a button-down shirt would be good. His leather jacket was a little worn as well, so maybe a cloth one would be a good change, especially with the warmer weather. There was a little men’s wear shop on the next block. Perhaps he could go there, tell them what he wanted and not have to spend too much time deciding on colours and styles. When he found himself in front of the shop window, while looking at the mannequins he almost turned around and walked away but a man inside saw him and waved him in. With a deep breath, he opened the door and entered the shop. The man looked him over before speaking.

“Let me guess, you hate shopping for clothing but now you have to attend a special event and you don’t have anything nicer.”

“I have a date.” Bucky’s answer was brief and to the point since his anxiety had already increased. “It’s still casual but these clothes aren’t nice enough for that.”

“I see. What were you thinking?”

“Nicer blue jeans, a button-down shirt, cloth jacket, and nicer shoes than my boots. We’re just going to a little Italian restaurant I like. It’s nothing special but I want to look better than I do now.”

The man studied Bucky as he walked around him. “Do you know your size?”

He shrugged. “I just took what I thought looked right and tried them on. Then I bought extra so I didn’t have to come back. I have issues.”

“Would you allow me to measure you, properly? I promise to make it as quick as possible, but these clothes are a little snug and you want a little give in your clothing for comfort’s sake.”

“I just want solid colours, nothing patterned, or fancy. I’m just an ordinary guy.”

He asked Bucky to remove the leather jacket, then measured quickly around his chest, neck and back. He measured the left arm, noting the firmness of it but not saying anything. Then he measured Bucky’s waist and inseam. Quickly he picked out a couple of button-down shirts, showing them to Bucky, then a pair of dressier jeans and a pair of chinos. Taking them to the dressing room, he left them on the chair and stepped back.

“Try these on. If the shirts are a little snug, we can try a different cut, but I think you’ll like this. The chinos are nice for something a little dressier than jeans but still casual. We can pick out a jacket when you come out as well as a pair of shoes.”

Peeling off his clothes, Bucky put one of the shirts on then pulled the blue jeans on, looking at himself in the mirror. He went out to the front and the man looked at him approvingly.

“Okay, try the chinos.”

With a little sigh to indicate he was approaching his limit for patience; Bucky tried the other shirt and chinos on. Although he liked the feel of the pants’ fabric, they felt even tighter than his normal jeans, plus they were short, barely covering his ankle. It must have been evident on his face because the man found another cut and handed them to him. Reluctantly, he tried them, admitting that he liked the look. When he came out the man was pleased. He had a couple of cloth jackets for Bucky to try, helping to put them on, then stood behind him as the super soldier looked in the mirror, choosing the dark navy one. Finally, he brought several pairs of shoes out, but Bucky didn’t like their look and he didn’t want sneakers. The man brought out a dressier boot which Bucky tried on and nodded.

“I like these,” he said. “Now, tell me truthfully. Do I look good?”

“Yeah, you look really good. You’re a handsome man with a fit body. You should be wearing clothing that emphasizes that. Are you satisfied?”

“Yeah, I am,” smiled Bucky briefly. “I’ll take the jacket, boots, jeans, chinos and both shirts. Might as well have two looks, right?”

“That’s the spirit,” said the man. “Bring everything to the desk once you’ve changed and I’ll ring it up.”

Ten minutes later Bucky was walking home, balancing the flowers and his shopping bags in his hands. it cost more than $300 to update his wardrobe, which was highway robbery. In 1941, $300 would buy him more clothes than his closet could hold. But it wasn’t 1941 anymore, and he really did want to look nice for his date with Brooke.

When he arrived home, he took his new clothes out and hung them up. It would have been nice to wash them first, but the circumstances wouldn’t allow it in the time before he picked Brooke up. Then he took his other clothes off and had a shower, washing and conditioning his hair. When he looked in the mirror after, he wished he had time for a haircut.

“You’re fine. Put some of that product in.”

“Shut up.”

He shaved, for all that was worth as he would have a five o’clock shadow before the end of the night. Then he got dressed, deciding to go with the chinos. As he stood in front of the mirror again with his shirt open, he ran his hand through his hair. When he first got it cut, at that place that specialized in cutting children’s hair and keeping them happy while it was done, the stylist (are there no barbers anymore?) said to put the pomade on dry hair so his hair looked more natural. Gone were the days of slick shiny hair. Now, just about anything went in men’s hair styles except for slicked back, which apparently looked sleazy. Who was he to argue? Rubbing the pomade through his hair just like she told him, he styled it until he was satisfied and washed his hands, then did up his shirt and tucked it into the chinos.

He bought a spray to protect the boots from water damage and sprayed them as instructed on the can, coughing at the chemical smell, then leaving them to dry. The clock on the microwave showed 5:30. He sighed at having to wait another hour and put the TV on, watching the early news, turning it off after 5 minutes because it was all the same thing, trouble in the Middle East, global warming, and crime rates up in the New York area.

“Stop thinking negative thoughts.”

“It’s in my nature to think that after all the shit I’ve been through.”

“But you’re going on a date with a real nice woman. Put some music on.”

He breathed out heavily, then went over to his iPhone and opened it. He found his Benny Goodman playlist and started it, linking it to the Bluetooth speaker he picked up in a clearance bin, turning it up high enough to drown out the stupid voices in his head. Sitting in his armchair, he closed his eyes and let the music distract him, bringing him back to a simpler time. It must have worked because he noticed the clock on the microwave suddenly displayed 6:25. Turning it off, he put his phone in his pants pocket, slipped on his boots, slid a knife down beside his ankle, donned his jacket and picked up the bouquet of flowers. With his door locked, he took the two steps to Brooke’s apartment and knocked. There was no sound. He knocked again. That was when he heard the sound of a restrained whimper, followed by the whispered murmur of a man’s voice, audible only to his enhanced hearing.

“Stay quiet.”

Returning to his apartment he placed the flowers on his counter, then climbed out the window to his fire escape, taking it up to the rooftop. Quickly, he headed to the other side of the building and down the fire escape there, approaching Brooke’s window silently. Instead of coming down the stairs, he climbed on the outside of the landing and let himself drop, using his metal hand to grasp the railing, while his feet quietly slotted onto the open grate of the platform. Climbing over, he peeked in the window but didn’t see anything. Checking the window lock that he just installed the week before, he found it still locked, so the man obviously didn’t enter this way. He must have come in through the door. Pulling his knife out he carefully jimmied the lock without breaking it. Thank goodness for some of his assassin skills. Quietly, he lifted the window up and climbed into the kitchen, slipping off the boots so he didn’t make a sound. Calming himself, he listened for sounds then heard it; Brooke’s worried voice begging the man not to hurt her.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Brooke. Did I ever hurt you before? No, that’s not the type of man I am. I’m going to take you home. The city is too dangerous for you. If I can break in, anyone can.”

“No, I won’t go with you. We’re done, Ray. The papers were signed.”

“Don’t care. We promised til death us do part and I’m holding you to it, regardless of what some piece of paper says. Now pack.”

While the conversation was happening Bucky silently stepped closer to Brooke’s bedroom, until he was just outside the door. He pulled his cell phone out and dialled Brooke’s number; later he could explain why he had it, since she didn’t give it to him. It rang in the bedroom and the man picked it up, seeing the (unknown) as the number.

“Who is it?” Ray asked, angry.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Let me answer it.”

“No funny stuff,” he warned.

“Hello?” Her voice sounded in Bucky’s ear. “Hello? Who is this?”

“Bucky. Hit the floor.”

She looked at the phone and dropped while he leaped in and tackled the man, knocking him against the wall. Straddling him, Bucky grabbed the handgun the man was holding and turned it against him, aiming it at his forehead. Slowly, Brooke stood up, approaching Bucky and the man.

“My ex, Ray,” she said. “He found out where I lived, picked the lock on the door and was waiting for me when I got home from work.”

“Are you okay?” asked Bucky, without taking his eyes off Ray. “Did he hurt you?”

“Who are you? Brooke, who is this guy?”

She smiled. “My neighbour. He’s an Avenger. Perhaps you’ve heard of him, Bucky Barnes and no, he didn’t hurt me.”

“The Winter Soldier?” Bucky pressed the gun into the man’s forehead, shaking his head. “Are you going to kill me?”

“If Brooke wants me to,” he answered. “What do you say? I can take him out permanently and make it look like a suicide.”

“As tempting as your offer is, no,” she answered, then she dialled 911 on her phone. “I would like to report the breaching of a protection order. My ex-husband broke into my apartment and attempted to abduct me at gunpoint. My neighbour came to my rescue, but I need a couple of officers to take my ex into custody. I wish to press full charges.” She gave them her address, then sat on the bed. “They’re on their way. How did you get my number?”

“I checked you out,” answered Bucky. “Had a hunch you were leaving a bad situation. I can delete it if you want.”

She smiled. “No, keep it, but I get yours in return. Did you have reservations?”

“Yeah, but if you take my phone, you can change them to a later time, if you still want to go out.” She reached into his pocket, held it to his face to unlock it, and found the email confirming the reservation. Calling them, she changed it to an hour later. “You knew who I was.”

“Your left hand was visible when we shook hands. I kind of checked you out, too. Isaac said you were a kind man.”

Ray squirmed. “Wait, you were going out on a date? With him?”

They both looked at him as if he was rudely interrupting and he shut up, still looking at the gun in Bucky’s hand as if it would go off at any moment.

“You look nice,” said Brooke. “You dress up well.”

“I kind of went overboard and bought some new clothes,” replied Bucky, glancing at her. “You didn’t get a chance to get ready.”

“No, jackass here was all over me.”

“I’m not a jackass. Brooke, I love you.”

“No, you don’t, Ray. You wanted a mommy to look after you and cater to your every whim. I wanted a man who pulled his own weight and didn’t make me feel like a prisoner in my own home.” There was a knock on the door. “That should be the police. You can let him up now.”

She left and Bucky stood up, emptied the gun and put it on the bed, before offering Ray a hand.

“Leave her alone, Ray. Let her have her own life.”

“With you?”

“If that’s what she wants. I’m just her neighbour and maybe her friend. Whether it goes further than that will be up to her. But if I see you anywhere near her again, I’ll make it my business.”

He pushed Ray ahead of him, then alerted the officers that the gun was unloaded and on the bed. While one cuffed Ray the other went and retrieved the gun, placing it in an evidence bag. Brooke swore out the complaint, then thanked the officers as they left with her ex-husband. She looked at her watch.

“I’ll be ready in 15 minutes, if you want to wait for me,” she said.

“Yeah, just let me grab something from home,” said Bucky, pulling his boots back on. “I’ll be back right away.”

She left the door unlocked for him while he returned for the bouquet of flowers which still looked fresh. Letting himself in, Bucky looked for a vase in the kitchen, filling it with lukewarm water and pouring the plant food in, using a long spoon to stir it until it dissolved. Then he cut the ends of the plants off with his knife and arranged the flowers, bringing the vase into Brooke’s living room and placing them on the coffee table. He went back to the kitchen to lock the window he jimmied, checking it was still securely fastened. Brooke walked into the living room, putting a sweater on as she walked, and stopped at the sight of the flowers, while Bucky entered from the kitchen.

“You got me flowers,” she stated, seeming surprised.

He shrugged as he looked at the arrangement. “I always brought my dates flowers before the war. It’s old fashioned, I know.”

“I like it. Thank you.”

She beamed at him.

“Damn, she’s cute when she smiles.”

“You’re welcome. Shall we?”

She allowed him to open the door and walked out into the hallway first, as he followed her. Taking her keys out she locked it, then looked at the lock, remembering her ex-husband broke in.

“I can put a new lock in,” he said, taking a closer look at what she had. “These are relatively easy to pick. I can get you one that’s better.”

“Could you pick it?”

Shyly, Bucky smiled. “Probably. But I won’t, unless you want me to.”

“I’ll give you a key, since you’re a good neighbour.”

“I promise to use it only when necessary.”

They walked down the stairs, then he opened the door, letting her out ahead of him. Placing himself between Brooke and the street, Bucky offered her his arm and she took it. They didn’t talk on the short walk to the restaurant, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable for either of them. Once there the hostess seated them right away and asked if they wanted drinks. Bucky chose a beer, while Brooke chose a white wine. After studying the menu, they made their food choices, then waited for their drinks to be served.

“So, do you date much?” she asked.

“No. I think you’re maybe the third date I’ve had since I moved in to that flat.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she smiled. “I mean, you’re so charming at first acquaintance.”

She said it with a straight face then started to laugh. Bucky smiled with her, as their drinks arrived.

“Touché. I was kind of grumpy that day. I am really sorry that I made you cry. That was inexcusable.”

“You made up for it quickly,” answered Brooke. “Especially today. Although, I may have to move now that Ray knows where I live.” She sighed. “I signed a six-month lease as well.”

“I don’t think he’ll bother you again.” Bucky drank his beer. “I kind of told him if he showed his face around you, I would know and make it my business. That wasn’t too presumptuous, was it?”

She sipped her wine and shook her head. “No. I hope that’s just you being neighbourly.”

“It is. Once I update that lock on your door, I can also talk to a friend about a security system,” he said.

“Another Avenger?”

“Yeah, but he knows that stuff and would do it as a favour. You would just have to promise not to reveal his identity.”

“I’m good at secrets.” She smiled, sipping her wine, then looked towards the kitchen as the server brought their food. “This looks good.” She noticed the size of his pizza. “You going to eat all that?”

Bucky nodded. “High metabolism. Means I burn through food quicker.”

“Aah, that explains why you’re grumpy sometimes.” He paused, holding the first piece in midair. “You get hangry.” He shook his head, confused. “Hungry and angry, hangry. It started out as a pop culture term used by a certain chocolate bar for their commercials but apparently scientists have confirmed that a combination of low blood sugar and the hormones released when your stomach is empty can make you feel irritable.”

“Is she serious?”

“Seriously?”

Brooke nodded, then smiled. “We’ve all been there. I might have been a bit hangry myself, at the time. I don’t usually cry in front of strangers, which you were then.”

“And now?”

She looked at him seriously. “You’re a good neighbour who’s quickly approaching the friendship line.”

It was strange how good that made Bucky feel. His friendships were few and far between, usually forged over many weeks of acquaintanceship and shared experiences. All of his stronger friendships were with men, like Sam, and Isaac. Yori had been a friend, but still hadn’t spoken to Bucky since he confessed to killing the man’s son when he was the Winter Soldier. Leah … well, she was an acquaintance who pulled back as well, after he told Yori.

“Hey, are you still with me, Bucky?” asked Brooke. “You kind of went somewhere else for a moment.”

“Yeah, sorry,” he smiled, then picked up another piece of pizza. “I don’t have many friends. It wasn’t exactly a skill that my captors wanted me to retain. I’ll try not to disappoint you.”

“You won’t.”

They talked of many things during their meal, and on the walk home, as Bucky carried Brooke’s take-out container of her leftovers. When they finally got up to her door and she unlocked it, Bucky handed the container to her.

“Should I kiss her?”

“No, you’re not even fully at the friend stage yet.”

“But I have to do something, and a handshake isn’t enough.”

“You’re somewhere else again,” said Brooke, looking up at him.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Just arguing with myself over whether a kiss goodnight is too much but a handshake isn’t enough.”

“I see.” She looked up at him. “Well, a kiss would make it weird and quite frankly, so would a handshake. How about a hug, a quick one?”

Without waiting for an answer, Brooke quickly wrapped her arms around Bucky’s shoulders and hugged him. He barely had time to put his arms around her back before she was pulling away, but she was right. It was better than a handshake and a kiss would have made it weird. With a nod of his head, he went to his door and unlocked it. They both waved, a little self-consciously, then stepped into their apartments and locked the doors. Strangely enough, they both leaned against the wall just inside their doors and wondered if perhaps someday a kiss would feel just right.

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One Shots Masterlist

[lesbolieeh]

Jelly (m)

Bratty!Sub!Tzuyu ✦ Dom!F!Reader

WC—5.4 ✦ k

WARNING—69 ✦ oral sex ✦ face-sitting ✦ begging ✦ teasing ✦ stripping ✦ praise ✦ tzuyu being the cutest fkn girl out there ✦ light degradation ✦ light hair pulling ✦ mommy kink ✦ baby girl kink ✦ ft. Sana x Miyeon, Lisa x Jennie

THEMES—smut ✦ new relationship au ✦ jealousy

NOW PLAYING—Only Girl (In The World) ✦ god

[A/N.] I hope u guys like the new look<3

M.LISTS—twice ✦ latest updates ✦ read on wp

All rights reserved © lesbolieeh

✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦

"I have a mommy kink."

Tzuyu liked it when you called her Babygirl so it shouldn't be too much of a stretch to call you Mommy, right? She turned her head and looked at you, grinning as if you were joking. After a few seconds of not getting a similar reaction back, her mouth gaped out of shock. "Or to be more specific, I like being called Mommy," you attempted to get her out of her trance.

When she'd done enough thinking, which was five long seconds, she replied in the brattiest voice ever, "You're not my mother." Of course, it sucked a bit that you weren't into the same kink but you two shared a lot of other kinks so it was OK. It's impossible to had the exact same kinks as someone else anyway. At least she didn't act weird around you because of it.

But your sex dynamic was affected by this incident. Usually Tzuyu could get a bit shy to initiate sex and would rather hint at it by keeping eye contact for a long time when holding your hand or by resting her head on your boobs when you were cuddling or giving a quick kiss to your neck and blush. All of a sudden she got bratty, mostly by using your kink against you, like whenever you were clumsy and accidentally walked into a table or dropped a chopstick, she'd clap her hands and sarcastically sad "Good job, Mommy".

But this meant you two found a new kink together; punishments. You progressively introduced kinkier punishments from overstimulating her to edging her to blindfolding her. It was almost as if telling her about your Mommy kink (that she didn't reciprocate) opened up new doors for you to explore kinks especially Tzuyu would've been too shy to tell you about. Truthfully, finding new kinks together was such a fun activity and even if you two explored something that you didn't necessarily end up liking, the intimacy of the activity made up for it and you could just give each other head and orgasm anyway. However, Mommy still wasn't one of the kinks you two explored at all in bed and that would always be in the back of your mind. But as long as you two had fun it didn't matter if she called you Mommy or not.

Later.

"How does it feel?" you jumped with a smile, your girlfriend's hands in yours.

"I'm excited since you've told you so many stories about them and it's a bigger step in our relationship but I'm also a bit nervous," Tzuyu said a small, smiling in pain.

"Awww, Baby, I like you so they will like you too, don't worry. As long as you don't mention that you hate mint chocolate ice cream I think it'll be fine," you kissed her hands and pulled her into a hug.

The hug calmed down her nerves but she was still nervous. It was impossible not to since she was always a bit awkward when meeting new people and this time the new people were your extroverted friends so she felt pressure to come across as likable to them. Knock, knock! They'd arrived. You opened the door.

"Miyeon! The blonde hair fits you so well," you said when you saw her blonde hair.

She flipped her hair, "I know right~" 

She threw herself at you in a needy hug and whined out, "____, I've missed you sooo much." Miyeon can be a very touchy person with her close friends and that's one of her best traits but it can be a less good one in a situation where you're in a relationship and your partner isn't aware that the girl acts like that around all her best friends.

Therefore Tzuyu stands there awkwardly, breathing quickening, looking at an attractive girl latch onto her girlfriend like a leech. You could hear Miyeon making exaggerated smelling sounds, which was weird until she uttered "I missed your smell! You smell like something I can't describe. Hmm fruity."

You laughed at her weird behavior while Tzuyu just stood there, watching silently. Your arms squeeze extra hard for a moment just to be a little more dramatic when you said you had missed her too.

You let go of the hug and turned to the second friend.

"Omg hi Sana!" you eye-smile back to the woman who already held her arms out to hug you.

"_____! Missed you," she said with a muffled voice from her burying her face in your neck.

Your girlfriend turned her gaze to the ground, finding her feet more interesting than the scene in front of her. Fuck, she's pretty too. Tzuyu was rarely this intimidated when she met new people,  but the two women had known you for much longer than she had, and they felt so comfortable with showing affection towards you — and the fact they were so pretty did not help.

But there was one more person who was hiding behind the door that you didn't know of. Out she jumped from behind the door, "Hiii!" 

"LISA!" your smile grew, not having seen her in almost a month.

You pulled her into a hug, "I didn't expect to see you! I thought you were going on a trip to Laos!"

"As if I would miss meeting my favourite person! Actually I'm going tomorrow instead," Lisa smiled.

"You know I missed you like crazy, right?"

Tzuyu frowned.

"I missed you too," you said with a pout of guilt as you looked down at Lisa.

"ANYWAY, this my girlfriend!" you turned to her with a smile, not having detected any jealousy yet. "Tzuyu, this is Sana, Miyeon and Lisa."

"H-Hi..." Tzuyu said with insecurity as visible as a watermelon in a pumpkin patch.

"Hello," the oldest girl said loudly as she reached out to shake her hand. The tense girl next to you took the other's hand and shook it, probably wetting it with sweat.

"_____ has told us a lot about you," Miyeon said with a friendly smile which had the opposite effect than intended.

"Why did you steal ____ from us?" the remaining girl asked as she crossed her arms, with an aegyo angry pout.

"I—" your girlfriend tried to form a sentence and looked at you for help when she failed.

"I was just joking," Lisa smiled and winked at Tzuyu playfully.

That worked, Tzuyu smiled back.

2h later.

"Now I understand why she got with you! Like, you're cool, Bro," Lisa laughed and high-fived Tzuyu while she blushing slightly with pride because of the compliment, but also at the mention of her lover.

During the past few hours, Tzuyu and your best friends had bonded. Sana, Miyeon and Lisa were great talkers and they had made Tzuyu feel comfortable in their company enough to have courage to hang out with the three of them without you when you made food for everyone (which meant a lot because she expected to be next to you the whole day to not be awkward and embarrass herself by stuttering and shit).

"How does the TV work?" Miyeon asked Tzuyu since this was technically her apartment.

"I don't know," Tzuyu felt a little flustered for not knowing how to use her own TV. But in her defense you two usually watched Netflix on her phone laying in bed together and not on a TV sitting on the sofa together.

"Forget what I said about you being cool before," Lisa joked.

"_____!" Sana called out.

Nothing.

"PLEASEEE, Mommy, WE NEED YOUR HELP," she yelled with a nice tone.

That action sent Tzuyu in a state of shock for a few seconds. Why did Sana call ____ Mommy? Soon "Mommy" showed up and asked tiredly "What do you want help with, Sana?"

Slowly a bad feeling crept inside of Tzuyu. What the fuck. Why is she acting so indifferent? Sana literally called her Mommy! Another girl shouldn't be calling her that. How the fuck does Sana even know of _____'s kink?

By the time Tzuyu stopped drowning in her thoughts, you had already helped with the TV and Miyeon was looking through Netflix. "Can you please get you a blanket, Mommy?" the devil on Earth, also known as Sana, asked Tzuyu's girlfriend with a cute voice on purpose and made grabby hands.

Bitch.

Tzuyu looked at you, not sure what she was expecting or hoping you to do. And then you were gone. Yes! She just left her hanging! Fuck yes— Suddenly Tuzyu's thoughts were interrupted again when she saw you...with a fluffy, red blanket in your hand.

"Thanks, Mommy," Sana exaggerated the title once again, making your girlfriend's face turn red.

"Don't interrupt me again, folks, or else food will be burnt and you'll have air for dinner," you warned before you went back to cooking the food that might or might not be ruined already.

Tzuyu tried to act like nothing happened when Miyeon turned on RuPaul's Drag Race on the TV. But it was very hard. Tzuyu's thoughts kept racing so she decided to confront that shitbag.

"Why did you call her Mommy?" Tzuyu asked bluntly, not caring about sounding rude.

"_____? Oh, well, I always do that when I want her to do me—"

Tzuyu clenched her fists. This fucker—

"—a favour and it always works!"

"Yeah, ____ probably loves being called that," Miyeon commented looking at Tzuyu.

"But you probably know that already," Lisa's eyebrows danced up and down.

"Can you get us sodas, please? Mommy~" Miyeon called out.

For the rest of the night it seemed like Tzuyu's social battery had run out.

Days later.

Tzuyu had been acting a bit cold towards you for the past couple of days and you didn't know why but you suspected it had to do with meeting your friends since that's around the time she distanced herself. You had texted her to meet up (because you wanted to talk to her about this) and, thankfully, she quickly replied to one of your texts (you had expected her to ignore it for a few hours at least).

Come to my place.

You didn't know what to expect but you put on a nice outfit, which consisted of a skirt with a zipper that went all the way down to the end paired with an oversized T-shirt. Before you knew it you were standing outside her door. Knock, knock!I If you two weren't having problems right now you'd just use your key (that she'd given you weeks ago) to just open the door without knocking but due to not communicating that well lately you were not sure if you were allowed to do that anymore and you didn't want to overstep her boundaries.

The walls were thin, so much that you could hear whenever a neighbor flushed the toilet, so you expected to hear her footsteps to let you know she was going to open the door but... nothing. Is she gonna ignore my existence this way too...?

When you realized that she might not have heard you you took a leap and went for the door handle and walked in.

"Tzuyu?" You said out loud, waiting for her to show up.

With no response you started getting worried.

"Tzuyu? Baby?" you called out her nicknames, hoping it'd show her you were coming with peace and love to solve your problems, not to argue.

"Here," you heard her beautiful voice coming from the direction of the living room.

After you hung up your jacket and took off your shoes, you slowly followed her voice. Walking into the living room you didn't expect to see the sight you were met by. There she was. Your girlfriend, Tzuyu, laying on her stomach on the sofa, facing the TV...

Naked.

Plump butt, godly thighs, muscular back, honey smooth and colored skin...all on display for you.

Confused about why she was naked when we were supposed to talk, you asked her with a light tone, "What happened? Why are you...naked?"

She turned her face to you and put her cheeks on the armrest of the sofa with a pout, "I hurt myself!"

Your protective nature kicked in, immediately getting worried, and asked her where she hurt herself. She sat up and spread her legs, exposing yet another surprise. That surprise being her throbbing, red pussy with wetness dripping down her thighs. She whines, "I walked into a table."

The view of your girlfriend laying naked, so wet and with a cute pout for the most innocent' reason was one of the sexiest things you'd seen in your whole life...and it was also making you unconsciously clench. You were not sure what to say since you were not expecting to see her in this state, so stayed quiet. If you were shocked before, you were speechless when you heard the next sentence coming from her delicate lips...

"Can you kiss it better? Please, Mommy, it really hurts so, so much," she asked, still with the innocent pout as if she was not a kinky masochist. For some people that might sound like just a very dirty sentence, but for you it sounded like the gates to the heaven of sins had opened. This flipped the switch from worried-about-your-relationship mode to let-me-take-care-of-my-lover mode. You didn't need to give her an answer, you simply walked over to the sofa and looked down at her.

"My safeword is moonlight. What's your safeword?"

"Sunrise," she answered.

From seat on the sofa, she felt small and submissive compared to your tall self standing in front of her looking down at her with a powerful aura. Crouching down to the same level as her pussy, you looked at her and saw her staring at you while breathing loudly. Smirking, you brought your face closer to her and stopped a few centimeters away.

"Where exactly did you hurt yourself, Baby?" you asked her teasingly, making her groan.

"Everywhere, Mommy. Everywhere. Kiss me everywhere, please," she begged, although she was sexually frustrated she tried to sound composed.

"Please, Ma—" you interrupted her from her begging by putting your middle finger on her slit lightly.

Looking up at her, you could see her eyes glistening with curiosity, mouth slightly agape from where her sentence stopped. Her pussy was pulsing from resisting to masturbate for the last three or so hours. You placed a tiny kiss on her clit and heard a small, flustered whine escape her mouth. She must've denied herself for a long time before you'd arrived if she was this sensitive.

"Waited for me instead of touching yourself? What a good girl you are, Baby," you said proudly before you started placing light kisses all over her pussy, making it, if possible, even redder than before.

"I'm Mommy's good girl," she barely let out, having a hard time speaking. She wanted to be claimed by you. She wanted you to know that she was dedicating herself to you, even going as far as not touching her aching pussy for hours, getting uncomfortably wet, letting it run down her thighs. She wanted you to know that she wanted to be a good girl for you.

The kisses were light and so small yet they made her high on ecstasy. With satisfaction visible in your eyes you started licking gently on her outer lips, making her groan louder and instinctively close her eyes. After a few seconds she opened them again and asked for another request "Mommy, can you sit on your face? Please?"

She wanted to please you too. Your baby wasn't completely selfish. "I don't want you to sit on the carpet."

"Why not?" You asked her to get on her nerves a little bit more than you already had.

"Your knees will get red, the carpet's so uncomfortable. And you told me my cheeks are soft so you should sit here, Mommy," she pointed at her face, showing you where you should sit.

"My pretty girl," you said and kissed her button nose, making her flash her beautiful smile.

You wanted to sit there, until I remembered the fact that she'd ignored you for these past two days. So you decided that teasing her was what she deserved. You stood up. She immediately laid down on the sofa, excited. You smiled at her enthusiasm. And then you sat down...

...on her chest, not her face. Close yet far. Hearing her complaining behind your back, motivated you to start licking her, maybe that would shut her up. But no. It didn't. Instead she let out more moans, letting you know that you were pleasing her but it was also her way of trying to make you wetter since she knew your weakness was her pleasure. You twirl your tongue around her clit lightly and got a high-pitched moan in return. You loved it. Her clit was her most sensitive part and she didn't know if she should be happy that you were making her feel good or if she should be complaining that she will come too early if you keep your attention on her clit for too long. With a smile you gave a small suck to her clit and the moans leaving her mouth went straight to your core. You started adding a little more pressure to her clit, not too much though, she brought her hands to your thighs and rubbed them gently up and down. That was OK until her fingers found their way to the edge of your skirt, slowly and sneakily trying to pull it up your legs.

"What are you doing?" you asked fast, sending vibrations that made her twitch. You quickly went back to worshiping her pussy, not wanting to leave her unattended for more than a few seconds. Grunts of pleasure are heard from the woman under you, yet she miraculously finds a way to talk.

"Mommy, you smell so good. Can I taste? Please," she said in between low moans.

How can she care so much about your pleasure in a moment when she's so pleased?

"A good girl who asks so nicely deserves to be rewarded."

Her face lit up at the thought of getting to eat you out; it's been her wish to do this for a while now. These past few weeks you've mostly focused on making her cum over and over again and although she made you cum too it had mostly been from her fingering you or you riding her thigh, not much cunnilingus. With smooth hands she touched you from the ankles beside her head up to the thighs that are hidden under the material of your skirt. She loves feeling you up. Especially, getting to feel your thighs under your skirt. It felt like she was doing something naughty; being in contact with skin hidden under fabrics, something nobody else could touch... She felt like a bad girl.

Confidence and curiosity made her tug the damned skirt and jerk it upwards until she could see the ivy blue panties you had on with a big dark patch covering the entrance to paradise, revealing how turned on you had gotten already. Her Mommy was wet for her. You moved your pussy further back until you could feel her hot breath on it through your panties. As soon as her mouth was close enough, she happily put the fabric to the side, so she could get to your wetness, and started kissing it. She kissed it smoothly and slowly, showing how much she appreciated you, since she rarely got to show you in this particular way.

Unlike her, you started going rougher. Sucking her clit harder, but not too harsh, and humming against her, sending wonderful vibrations. She kept whining and turning you on more so you started moving your tongue from her clit and licking between her lips too. Everything for your girl. She began to chant your name sinfully and dove her silky tongue inside you too, trying to return the favour as best as she could when she was moaning. Her moans were so addicting. She had this specific type of moan that sounded like a mixture between a sad whine and a woman getting fucked by another woman for the first time. She moaned so angelically it was as if she were singing.

She licked deeper between your folds, though her moans were getting louder and making it harder for her to focus, she really wanted you to cum first. For hours she'd been trying to restrain herself from touching herself at the thought of what you two were going to do tonight. She couldn't keep herself from thinking about it; it wasn't her fault that her girlfriend was the sexiest woman she'd ever met and that the thought alone of pleasing her was enough to make her pussy clench and get wet.

But what you were doing together right now was nowhere near her fantasy. This was way better than she ever could've predicted and she's really creative and has a huge imagination, which said a lot. To actually experience this was so much harder than fantasizing about it. She'd been restricting herself from cumming since before your tongue even met her sensitive skin.

Suddenly your skirt that was curled up on your thighs sank down and barricaded Tzuyu's head, not letting the cold oxygen from the room get in, which made her even hotter. Her hair was sticking to her forehead and her hands were cupping your ass, grabbing and playing with the thick flesh.

You could sense that she was on the verge of cumming, making you smile. You wanted her to cum, she deserved it and you had missed making her cum these past two days. "Baby, cum for me," you said against her skin, blowing on it to make it cooler and make her shiver.

"Wanna wait for you, Mommy," she moved her lips against you softly.

"But, Babygirl, you've been waiting for me for so long. You've been treating you like the queen I am. You deserve to cum," you encouraged her.

"Do it, Babygirl. Your cum is my pleasure," you whispered against her and sucked on her clit lightly.

All this praise was too much for her, she couldn't hold it in anymore so she finally let go, her legs shaking, you held them down. You kept on licking all over her pussy, not to overstimulate her or make her cum again, but just to savour the taste of her cum. Looking back you saw that your skirt has surrounded her and you couldn't see her face when she licked you so you lifted yourself off of her up and sat up on your knees.

With her tongue out in the air she looked disappointed and confused, "But you haven't cum yet."

You smirked at her cuteness and brought your hand to hold her cheek softly, "Be patient, Babygirl."

She was a little impatient now.

"You're gonna get it soon," you chuckled lightly at her eagerness for you to cum.

When your hand left her cheek and your steps took you a few meters away from her, she got confused again but kept quiet, waiting for what you'd do. You turned to her and watched her longing face as she laid there beautifully, looking like an angel yet like a sinner. Without breaking eye contact you dropped your panties and her mouth opened more than before. You were putting a spell on her. You were like an enchantress with power over her mind, body and soul. She was like a puppet with the strings you had the control of. She was aware of it. And she absolutely loved it.

Walking over to her with your mighty aura made her gulp, she had no idea of what you had in store for her. But she really wanted to see you drop some more garments. Then you sat on her chest again but this time with your front facing Tzuyu, making the girl gulp again with anticipation as she looked down at your wet pussy. "I just wanted to see your pretty face when I ride it," you said innocently, looking at her blush. Fuck, she was always so pretty when she blushed.

She watched as you made a knot on your shirt (you didn't want the shirt to cover her face like the skirt had done before). "Show me, please," she begged with her needy voice, having expected you to take off your shirt or at least uncover your boobs for her.

"Let's see if your tongue is worth it, Babygirl." There was no chance she was not witnessing a strip tease and your golden body. As if on cue, she went back to kissing your folds, keeping your eyes locked, wanting to see your reaction to every single trick she was going to pull out. She explored your body with her hands on your legs and stomach since she hadn't had the opportunity last time you fucked when her hands were tied above her head. You loved how she was so affectionate and could make sex romantic by an action as simple as holding your hand and looking into your eyes. To many people, eye contact during oral sex was all about power but to you two it was also about intimacy. You smiled down at her.

Soon she started licking on your folds, not yet moving between them or on your clit, she wanted to care for you and behold up your excitement — and it worked. Although she hadn't given you cunnilingus in so long, she was so damn skilled with her tongue and reading your body language.

You started touching her hair, putting it away from her face while still looking at her to motivate her. She licked between your folds and a stray groan escaped your mouth. She took it as a clue to keep it going, making more groans leave your mouth. You grinded on her face, which formed a confident smile on it, making Tzuyu's tongue go deeper in you. "Fuck, that feels so good, Baby."

When her tongue accidentally came in contact with your clit you moaned louder. Kisses were peppered on your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending shivers down your spine that made you arch your back. She was the type of pussy eater to not just lick but also kiss. Smiling at your reaction, she started going back and forth between kissing and licking your pussy. One kiss, one lick. Two kisses, two licks.

"Good girl," you praised her, zipped down your skirt and tossed it away in a random corner of the room, making your girlfriend whine against you.

She put her hands on your knees, that were on each side of her shead, in an innocent matter...until she moved her hands up your thighs and stopped at your ass, kneading each stretch marked cheek in each hand. "Hey! No touchy-touchy—" you were interrupted by your lover's magic hands pushing you into her face deeper, making you moan louder than before.

With loud moans escaping your mouth uncontrollably you grabbed a fistful of her wet hair. She liked it; it was rough and showed that you fucking loved what she was doing. "So desperate to see me naked?" you ask her as teasingly as possible when you were grunting.

She responded by vibrating "mhm" against your clit, making you pull her hair harder. As you grabbed the edges of your shirt, you saw her big eyes full of lust. When you pulled the shirt up and threw it away with an evil smile she whined in annoyance. You were wearing a lace bralette. A wine red one because fuck matching underwear. She wanted to see more. With the desire to make you cum and show your all for her, she put her cute lips on your clit and suckled a bit harder than before. Her desperation down there made you scream out loud.

"You're doing so well for me, Babygirl. Make Mommy proud."

As she kept pleasuring you, you decided she should be rewarded. She had earned a reward by now. The sound of you unclipping your bralette made her doe eyes twinkle with penchant. She took one of her hands away from your butt and put two fingers inside you to push you even faster to the edge. The other hand she brought up to cup your right boob with. You were on the verge of cumming. She noticed and started pinching your nipple. Fuck. She knew you so well. You couldn't hold it anymore and released your juice. Looking down, you were by her face of accomplishment and pride. She continued licking, but not to bring you to another orgasm but just to taste you some more.

"Thank you for your cum, Mommy," she said, breathing loudly.

You moved away from her face and laid back against the cushions of the sofa.

"Don't leave me, Mommy," she whined lightly at the lack of contact. She moved towards you and rested her head between your boobs. As she laid on top of you and relaxed with her eyes closed, you played with her hair. Maybe I went a little too rough on her cute hair...

You put Netflix on the TV and looked through shows to find something to watch before you went back for round two. You two had seen almost everything on there already. But there was one show you never grew tired of: RuPaul's Drag Race. You'd seen all seasons but rewatching them was still entertaining.

Tzuyu put her chin up on your left tit to look at you, accidentally hurting you in the proces.

"Ouch, that hurts, stop," you told her.

She immediately moved her chin to the middle of your chest instead and apologized "Sorry, Mommy."

No praise made her pout. So she started licking your left nipple lightly while pinching the other. You took her chin between your fingers and lifted her away from your skin and up to face you. "You're so naughty, Baby." If she couldn't get praise she didn't mind getting attention in another way. She smiled.

"I'll go and get us some water," you kissed her before you got up.

"And a blanket for cuddles, please?"

"Everything you need, Baby."

"Also tell Sana, Miyeon and Lisa to stop calling you Mommy, please?"

"Baby, they do it as a joke. You know Sana and Miyeon are dating right? And Lisa has an on-and-off relationship with a girl named Jennie."

"Really? I just thought they were straight besties who kiss and act gay with their friends for no reason!"

You laughed and came back with two glasses of water and the red blanket that Sana had asked for days ago tucked under your arm. "But if it makes you feel uncomfortable then I'll just tell them to stop of course."

Tzuyu laid her head back on your chest the moment your body touched the sofa, "That would be lovely!"

You kissed the top of her head, hugging her body. "Next time you feel jealous or uncomfortable, please tell me rather than acting cold," you pouted at her.

"Sorry, I'll definitely not do that again," she pouted back and kissed your pout.

Your pouts turned into smiles as you snuggled up against each other for another twenty minutes before going back to fucking.

✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦

❝ Make me feel right (uh)

Baby, I'll tell you all my secrets that I'm keeping

You can come inside (yeah)

And when you enter, you ain't leaving

Be my prisoner for the night, oh ❞

—god; 2010

[sergeantsporks]

Witch Switch Part 5.4

This one's for all the "Kiki riding on Phillip's shoulders" fans out there ✌️

(First) (Previous) (Next)

(Masterpost)

Transcript under the cut

[Evelyn wanders into the hallway]

Evelyn: Hey, Phillip, are you sure you’re—

[A net drops down on her, glowing ominously]

E: AUGH! What—Phil-LIP!

[Kikimora and Phillip pop out of hiding, Kikimora riding on Phillip’s back]

Kikimora: Haha! At last, Cardinal Criminal, you fall to me, Kikimora of Palm Stings! You never suspected I’d lay a trap for you in your own home!

E: [disembodied] You?! How did you get in here?

Phillip: I let her in. You’re under arrest, Evelyn.

[Cut to annoyed Evelyn]

E: Phillip, she’s not actually a guard member, she’s just a wannabe! You’re not actually arresting me!

[Cut to triumphant Kikimora]

K: Save it for the Cursebreaker. You’re going straight to the Ward, criminal.