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peachysunrize · 1 month

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[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Word count: 5.1k+

Warnings: tensionnnnnn, alcohol consumption (just wine) & fluff! English isn’t my first language <3

A/n: ‘m not gonna say anything more than just that ITS THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING NEW!! Reblog & comments are most appreciated🍊🧡

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Updates: every Saturday!!

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Chapter 3: The beginning of something new

He leans back on the chair, his book abandoned next to him on the desk as he carves a line on the wooden pallet, his glasses on the bridge of his nose, the sound of wood getting cut echoing in the old workshop.

He’s been here since early morning, all of his thoughts are consumed by you and your talk a few days ago. There’s still a part of him that is immensely guilty for how he treated you, especially after you told him about that Lannister boy.

He is heard and understood, maybe not by someone he expected, but the sweetness and calmness in this revelation makes it more special. You’ve been in the background image of his life for so long, someone always present yet too far and out of reach. But now, you’ve turned into someone important, someone he can rely on and trust wholeheartedly.

He sighs, letting the chisels fall from his hand on the table as he stretches his arms, groaning as he cracks his back and slowly lumps in the chair, glancing at Vhagar who does the same and slowly walks towards him, jumping on him to cuddle — the chair is so little to have them both sitting on it together, so Aemond has to hold Vhagar to his chest with a hand under her belly while she rests her head on his forearm as the other hand rubs slowly circle on her back.

Vhagar barks suddenly, jumping down to go near the door, alerting Aemond that someone is coming. He also stands up, grabs his abandoned book from the table, and walks towards Vhagar who is clawing at the door before he opens it and lets her out, locking the door workshop’s door behind him.

He follows her, watching as she bolts through the bushes and trees to reach whoever is approaching them. He hears your voice, melodically and softly when you start talking to Vhagar, giggling and letting her probably lick your face.

“Morning!” You say as soon as you spot him, strengthening your back before you stand up, holding two cups of coffee in your hands, “I couldn’t find you in the library, so I thought you’re probably taking a walk with your old lady.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “we had an early morning, and she gets restless and impatient when she doesn’t set foot outside.”

“Here’s your coffee, little nerd,” you hand him his cup, stepping closer to him until you’re only mere inches away from him, looking up at him through your lashes.

Aemond’s break is stuck in his throat as he looks down at you, he gulps when he sees you reach for his face, pushing his glasses up so he sees better. Your touch is warm against his skin, but your smile is warmer, more welcoming than anything he’s ever seen.

Get a grip, he thinks to himself as he thanks you quietly, clearing his throat before he wraps his long fingers around the hot mug.

“Let’s take a walk, shall we?” He asks, glancing back at the workshop door quickly.

“What’s that?” You turn around and follow his gaze, pointing at the door hiding behind the trees.

“Oh, um, that…” he rubs the back of his neck nervously, “nothing, just an abandoned storeroom,” Aemond shrugs, the book in his hands falling to the ground as his palm grows clammy.

“Shit—“

“It’s okay, I’ve got it,” you crouch down to grab the book, smiling softly when you look up and find Aemond turning red with embarrassment, especially when you glance at the book in your hand, “No way.”

“Give me that, please—“ he tries to snatch it out of your hand, but you hold it behind your back, biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning, taking a sip from your coffee to hide your smile, “tell me why you are reading Maester Orwyle’s book of Philosophy!”

“To kill some time, now please—“ he sighs, gesturing to you to give him the book by his hand while the ghost of a smirk finds its way to his face, “Don’t be ridiculous and give me the book so we can both go back to the house.”

“Nope,” you take a step away from him and he matches your huge grin as he extends his hand again, “if you want it, you should come get it.”

“Come on,” Aemond groans, “I’m not the five-year-old kid who used to chase you around the house to steal one of your books!”

“I’m not saying you should chase me, but maybe say please a few more times then I’ll agree—no!” You squeal when he leans over and snatches the book out of your hands, his tall and lean frame making it impossible for you to hold it back anymore, “You’re no fun!”

“Someone has to be the adult of this friendship,” he says, securing the book under his arm as he walks ahead of you, turning around to look at you, pointing at the path in front of you with his head, “Come on.”

“Fine, fine!” You laugh, following him towards the path leading to the backyard and the Weirwood tree.

The sound of friendship left a bittersweet taste in his mouth, something he only felt when Alys would give him backhanded compliments, but he knows you, maybe even much better than he ever knew his ex-fiance, and with the talk you had a few days ago, he is left confused. Not by your actions no, but by your words; it is hard to find someone who’s had the same experience, especially with someone so understanding and willing to share them.

“Don’t sulk now, Little nerd,” you bump your shoulder to him, watching him take a long sip of his coffee, “tell me about the book, it mustn’t be the first time you’re reading it.”

“Of course not,” he sighs and continues, “he was a friend of my grandfather, no one knows what happened to their friendship after this book was written, but apparently all the answers are in this—“

“You can’t be reading this giant hard-to-swallow book just because you wanna know about your grandpa's failed friendship,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him, “come on, tell me the truth!”

“No,” he gives you a pointed look, “this is the truth.”

“Alright,” you smile at him, not wanting to pressure him if he truly doesn’t wish to explain it, walking side by side with him until the trees are behind you except the Weirwood tree that looks so beautiful under the morning sunlight.

“The coffee is perfect…” he hums in delight as he glances at you, holding the mug in one hand with his arm keeping the book rightly against his body while he puts his right hand on the small of your back, walking slowly to your right side to be able to look at you more comfortably.

“My goodness, Aemond, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize—“ you try to apologize but he cuts you off with a slow shake of his head.

“It’s okay, don’t fret about it,” he rubs circles on your waist as you walk towards the house, the sunshine casting a glow on your face, and he fights off a smile when he sees how your eyes shine, “how did you find out I like my coffee with three sugars?”

“You’re not too hard to read,” you chuckle a little leaning to his side as he keeps his palm secured on your waist, “I observe people, mostly my friends and I wanted to make sure you were alright after everything, so I kept a close eye on you. Turns out you have a horrible sweet tooth!”

“You haven’t seen the worst of it yet,” he teases you, finishing his coffee in a sip, “Hel and I used to bake together, a silly hobby she took when Viserys and Mum separated. It was only simple cakes and bread but you know me, I can’t settle for less than perfection.”

“So you started to get better and better.”

“Yeah, it turns out Hel & I would make an excellent team, many of the birthday cakes were on us,” he explains, handing you the book so you’d hold it for him so he can open the door for you when you reach the building, “if you’re lucky, you’ll get a special birthday cake from me one day.”

“Stop being so talented—oh, fuck—“ you yell in shock when Vhagar runs past the two of you, knocking to your legs, making you lose your grip on your coffee and having it spill on Aemond’s book.

“I’m so sorry, fuck, I should have finished it first…” your voice grows quieter as you open the drenched book, reading the first page’s note, “Is this…?”

“Yeah,” he nods, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, “it’s yours.”

“No wonder I was looking for it when I got back home after another vacation spent here,” you laugh, tracing your finger over the blue note, “I caught you reading it in your old stable. Why would you go there to read?” It was full of horseshit, yet you seemed to like it.”

“Well, it was the only place no one seemed to want to spend any time there. Best place to read the book I stole from you,” he follows you inside the building to the kitchen to leave your cups there, “besides, you’d find me and discuss the book anyway, maybe I wanted you to find me.”

“You seem to enjoy that, don’t you? Me always finding you?” You ask him after you put the book on the kitchen island, turning around to look at him.

It seems like he has caged you with his body, he is standing close, probably closer than he should but not too much to deem it inappropriate for friends, and when you look up at him, he is sure the distance between the two of you has decreased considerably — physically and mentally.

“I like the idea,” he whispers, his good eye never leaving your face as you stare at each other before he clears his throat and pulls away a bit, giving you an awkward smile, “I think Hel and others are in the TV room.”

You nod hesitantly, moving past him towards the other room, leaving him alone in the kitchen. He sighs shakily, swallowing the lump in his throat before he decides to join you after he puts his cup away.

When he enters the room he finds you leaning on the back of the coach and Helaena is curled up on your side with Dreamfyre resting her head on Hel’s calves. His brothers are playing yet another round of Mortal Kombat — which he is sure Aegon insisted on. He looks around for Vhagar, and when he can’t find her, he assumes she must be in the library, taking her morning nap.

“Morning.”

“Hey, Aemy!” Aegon greets him, “We thought you were kidnapped when you didn’t join us for breakfast.” “Fuck off, I don’t have the patience to deal with you today,” Aemond grumbles, throwing his head back, and closing his eye before he is hit by a cushion, followed by a loud snort and soft giggles from you and Helaena, “What the fuck was the for?”

“You need to have patience! This is our summer, we will be annoying you until you give up this crappy attitude and enjoy your time with us here! Who knows when we’ll gather together like this again! You live here now with Daeron and Mum, I live in Oldtown, She,” Helaena points at you, “lives in Rosby, and Aegon… well he floats around the country.”

“I have a home, you little bitch—” “Doesn’t seem like it when you constantly show up at our places,” you say, earning a loud gasp from Aegon before he pouts and rolls his eyes at you, turning around towards Daeron with a glare when he laughs at him before he says ‘I’m gonna kick your ass’ and they start playing again.

“You know what we should do this week?” Helaena asks suddenly, sitting up with glee, “Aegon should throw one of his infamous parties! That way not only our dear brother will get better and forget about everything even for a few hours, but we get to have some fucking fun!”

“I thought you didn’t like parties,” Daeron pauses the game, turning around to give his sister a pointed look. Aemond does the same, but instead, he glances at you and finds you already looking at him, giving him a tight-lipped awkward smile before the two of you look away from each other and focus on Helaena.

“I do! But that doesn’t mean I loathe them, besides, Aegon’s parties are fun, they are not like Mum’s when we have to sit in awfully formal clothes, sipping on champagne like high-class ladies.”

“I hate to break it to you, babe, but you are a high-class lady,” you say, earning a nod from everyone in the room.

“That’s not my point,” she groans, chuckling when you side-eye her, “I just wanna have fun, and Aegon is fun—” “Did you hear that, pirate?” Aegon points at Aemond, laughing when he is met with a glare from his younger brother, “She thinks I’m fun, not you, me!”

“Don’t make her change her mind,” Aemond sighs, sneering at his older brother. “Aemond is fun, mind you,” you defend him, giving Aegon a pointed look which makes Daeron laugh out loud, “You are just too chaotic to understand him.” “And you do?” Aegon scoffs, and Aemond senses something is going to happen, that his brother can’t simply keep his large mouth shut, “his fiance didn’t find him fun—” “Jeez, Aegon!” Daeron yells, face twisted in disbelief.

“What is your fucking problem?” you ask him, scoffing at Aegon’s scared look, “You are always mean to him.” “I am not!” “Shut the fuck up I’m talking,” Aemond looks at you, surprised by your outburst, “he needs your support more than ever, his face and his life are now all over the fucking internet! Have you considered how hurt he must be? Of course, you haven’t because you don’t think. He doesn’t need to be reminded of what happened constantly when he is trying his best to move on!”

“I—” Aegon can’t say anything as he looks at you like you have grown another head.

Aemond is as equally shocked as others, he fights off a huge smile as he watches you defend him, his lips parted in surprise, jaw on the floor while you talk and put Aegon in his place.

“Morning my loves,” Alicent comes to the rescue, looking around the room to find Helaena and Aemond looking at you with a pleased smile while Aegon shrinks under your gaze and Daeron nearly falls on the floor with how hard he’s laughing, “What’s going on here?” “I thought maybe I could throw a party!” Aegon speaks, avoiding your gaze as he looks at his mum, “A month has passed from summer and I have yet to throw one of my infamous spontaneous parties!” “Alright, but you know—” “I know, I know! In the guest wing, no drugs, no strippers—” “You brought strippers to your parties?” Aemond asks, giving Aegon a disapproving look who in return only smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at him.

“Did you forget your insanely cool bachelor party? Did you think I brought random girls to give you a lap dance—” “Okay enough!” Alicent laughs awkwardly, “There are better times to discuss these matters! I have more important things to tell you.” “Like what?” Daeron asks.

“New Gossip Girls season dropped?” Aegon looks at you shrugging when you snort at his question.

“Be serious for a fucking second please,” Aemond warns his brother before he looks at Alicent softly, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing, nothing! In fact, I kind of have a surprise for all of you. Not a huge surprise but I wanted to take you somewhere,” she explains, stroking her neck in nervousness.

“Where do you wanna take us, Mum? Hopefully nowhere near Father,” Hel says, making everyone sigh in relief when Alicent shakes his head.

“No, of course not!” she scoffs as if even the idea of seeing her ex-husband disgusted her — and it did — she continued, “Do you remember when I told you I had put the winery under a reconstruction? And specifically told you to not go there?”

“No?” Daeron answers, confused as he tries to remember when Alicent told them to not go there, “I doubt you did, Mum.”

“You have a winery?” you ask, a joyful smile comes on your face when Hel nods excitedly.

“Not just a winery but a vineyard!” “Oh, wow! I had no idea!” “Well, it’s your lucky day because now it’s useable again!” Alicent matches your enthusiasm, “Also, this is not just to show you the vineyard, but…” she looks at Aemond, “It’s Aemond’s birthday too!” “It’s not,” he replies, glancing at you quickly, “It’s in a few weeks.”

“Well it doesn’t matter because I am going to throw a party for you, and for that, we need to have a winetasting session and choose a few bottles for that occasion!”

“Mum, there is no need—” “Do shut up, asshole,” Aegon teases him, “what do you mean there is no need? Those are gonna be for your birthday, and also, I don’t have to drink in secret!” “I’m afraid I agree with Aegon,” Hel says, you and Daeron nod in encouragement, and Aemond has no choice but to also agree and surrounder, but it’ll be worth it, he thinks, because the way your eyes light up at the idea of visiting their vineyard makes his heart beat faster.

“Alright then” Alicent claps, shooing you all out of the TV room, “Wear something cool, I don’t want you to get sick under this god-awful heat.”

••••••••••

You and Hel put on your sundresses and you help her apply sunscreen on the back of her neck, covering her pale skin so she won’t burn under the awfully hot sun. The weather is exceptionally warm today and you regret agreeing to go to the vineyard without cars as soon as you step outside.

Aemond and Aegon are already there, smoking together as they wait for you and Hel to reach them. Aemond sends an endearing smile your way when he spots you, taking in the sight of you; you look beautiful, with your smile and the baby blue sundress you are wearing.

“Alright, ladies! Choose your gentleman— hey! At least let me finish,” Aegon whines when you loop your arm with Aemond, making a gagging sound when Aemond rests his palm on top of yours, “Ew, get a fucking room. Come on, Hel, we’re cooler than them.”

You chuckle when Aegon throws his arm around Helaena’s shoulders, taking the lead towards the vineyard not before he gives you a middle finger.

“Asshole,” you mutter, leaning your head on Aemond’s arm as you walk side by side, “since when did you guys have a vineyard? I’ve been Helaena’s friend for years and not once did she mention anything about it.”

“It was Viserys’ vineyard, everything belonged to him, but after Mum filed for divorce and the evidence she had against him, he gave it all away,” he explains, his thumb caressing your knuckles, “I’m glad though, Mum deserves this. I mean we weren’t in need of a huge house in King’s Landing, Old Town was enough for us anyway, but after what he put her through, she really deserved it.”

“Alicent is strong, I’m not sure if I could handle such a mind wrecking thing,” you sigh, squeezing his arm as you smile at the memories you wish to tell him, “I remember when your parents were getting divorced, Helaena would spend days with me at my Grandparents’ country house, she’d bring Dreamfyre too. It felt like an eternity when we were together.”

“Hel has that effect, time doesn’t pass with her,” He agrees, both of you waving when Helaena looks back and blows you a kiss, “I feel like that with you too, maybe because we have shared interests.”

“You’re lucky,” you reply softly, bumping your shoulder to his, “because I feel the same. Every talk we have had since we were kids till now is a core memory of mine. Yeah, Hel will always be my favorite, my best friend, but you are different from everyone I’ve met, you mean so much to me.”

“You’re a dear friend or at least a dear friend to my sister,” he laughs a little, “I remember those days though, it was just me and Daeron in this huge house. Aegon was somewhere probably fucking and drinking and doing drugs while I had to take care of Daeron. He was too young to understand anything.”

“I wish things were different…”

“I don’t,” you look at him, confused and intrigued, “Maybe my eye, yes, but… I’m glad he is no longer a part of our lives, I could care less if he drops dead tomorrow, I’m happy he is no longer here to pester us about Rhaenyra or anyone.”

As soon as you try to answer him, a huge truck goes past you at a fast pace, and in an instant, Aemond wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you to his side, keeping you close to his body as he steps between you and the road.

You pant, hands fisting the front of his shirt in terror as you try to regain your breathing. Aemond looks down at you, his fingers keeping you tightly against him as his other hand reaches to caress your cheek.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you nod, resting your forehead on his chest as he embraces you, “Yeah, I think I am.”

“We’re here, come on,” he finds Aegon and Hel already waiting for you, and gestures for you to follow them inside, “are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Little nerd, I’m fine,” you reach and squeeze his hand, holding it as you walk through the entrance of the winery, finding Alicent, Daeron, and Cole already there.

“We’ll start with the winery!” Alicent announces, walking ahead of everyone with Criston on her side, “I’ve asked Qoren Martell to send us a very professional wine taster from Dorne to help us choose, and… here he is!”

“A pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Hightower,” the old man nods at Alicent, shaking her hand gracefully, “I’ve been told you produce different wines here.”

You let go of Aemond and meet Helaena midway as she takes your hand and walks with you behind her Mum and Cole, pointing at different parts of the winery. At first, you see the huge Grape-filled bowls getting crushed, the noises are loud but the fruits look so juicy and sweet.

“This is incredible!” You tell Hel as the group walks toward the next room, watching in awe how huge these oak barrels are. There are probably hundreds of them, with one glass under each so if someone wants to taste the wine straight from the barrels would have easy access.

Helaena pulls you to the next room, not just you but the Targaryen siblings are shocked as well.

“You genius,” Aegon calls his mother, “This is insane!” “I have to agree,” Aemond looks around with his hands in the pocket of his shorts as he walks toward you and Helaena, “Our previous wine cellar was so little it barely fit two people in it. This is…” “Gorgeous,” you finish his sentence and take a good look at the wine cellar; the room is rounded, the walls are curved and the temperature is low to keep the bottles cold. The shelves start from the ground to the ceiling, all of them filled to the brim with different wines in each specific section,

“It’s amazing, right?” Alicent asks, looking at her handiwork excitedly.

“You’re amazing…” It came out as a really really hushed whisper, but you and Aemond heard it correctly, Cole did say that.

You press your lips to contain your laugh when your eyes meet Aemond’s, finding him shaking his head as he reaches to rub over the huge round dining table in the middle of the room, smoothing his palm over the surface of the wood.

“Shall we start?” Alicent asks, and when you all say yes, she tells the older man to bring the bottles one by one.

You take a seat with Hel and Aemond on your sides at the table, waiting for the old Dornish man to bring the bottles. You see two other men bring a few plates filled with different cheeses and bread rolls.

“When will we see the vineyard?” You ask the siblings, pouting when Aemond chuckles at you, “Hey! Not everyone grew up with tons of money.”

“I’m not making fun of you if that’s what you’re thinking,” he replies, reaching to play with the rim of his glass, his white shirt stretching against his biceps, “your eagerness is cute.”

“Oh, fuck off!” You hide your face in your hands, laughing when Hel reaches to stroke your back, “Fine, but you need to take me there as soon as we’re done here.”

“Whatever you want,” he says, and all of you watch as Cole and the old man bring four bottles; Cabernet Sauvignon, Dornish Red, Rosè, and Chardonnay.

“Bring it on, old man,” Aegon whistles, plopping down on the chair next to the head of the table, bowing his head dramatically when Alicent sits.

You start with the Dornish Red and observe all of the siblings closely; Helaena sips gently and takes a piece of cheese immediately, Daeron and Alicent go on the exact same pace while humming at the same time, Aegon chugs the entire liquid and doesn’t let interest even for a second but Aemond… well you have only seen this move in social media but to see his slim and elegant fingers wrapped around the thin glass as he first looks at the color of the wine then swirls the liquid around before taking a whiff of the smell and after that a sip that follows with a deep rumbling from his chest.

You look away as soon as you sense he might turn around and catch you red-handed, taking a long sip of your glass before coughing at the too-sour taste of it.

“Not your favorite, huh?” Hel asks, handing you a piece of bread.

“Absolutely not,” you clear your throat before shooting Aemond a glare when he chuckles at you, “What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, “Come on, let's taste the next one.”

The next one is the white wine, it tastes much better than the Dornish Red, less sour but the bitterness of it is intolerable — you are by no means new to drinking alcohol, but wine has always been a tricky drink for you. You go through the third bottle as well, but again, it doesn’t taste excellent, until Aemond opens the Rosè, his arm bulging as he pulls up the corkscrew, making a delicious sound of ‘pop’.

“Here you go!” Alicent says as she brings a huge plate of lime and Tangerines to the table to cleanse your pallets before you have the next drink.

“How did you find Tangerines in the summer?” You ask excitedly, side eyeing Aemond as he pours the wine in your glasses before he sits down and grabs the Tangerine from you.

“Not easy to find, but you can trust Criston with these things,” she looks at Cole who’s standing in the door frame with a glass of Dornish Red. How typical.

“What are you doing?” You ask Aemond before you take a sip from your drink, humming in joy as you finally taste the most delicious Rosè you could have ever had.

“What does it look like? I’m peeling it for you,” he answers as if you have asked the most stupid question ever.

“Oh, okay, thank you,” you smile at him, completely dumbfounded by the amount of consideration he’s shown towards you today. You must look so bashful as you avert your eyes from him and stare into your glass, trying to stop the thoughts from flowing in your mind.

“Here,” he hands you the peeled Tangerine before he rises up from his seat and extends his hand to you, “come on, I promised you a tour and the vineyard looks so beautiful now.”

“Alright,” you put your hand in his, letting him pull you on your feet effortlessly, keeping you straight when you wobble a bit. You thank him shyly, reaching to grab your glass as well and leave the wine cellar.

“Why did the previous cellar not have enough room for all of you?” You ask suddenly, eating a piece of the Tangerine and offering him one as he leads you towards the staircase that reaches the vineyard.

“It was Viserys’, not ours,” he shrugs, “besides, Daeron and I were underage, we couldn’t drink—“

“This is… beautiful,” you exclaim the moment you step on the grass-covered path, the rows of Grenache trees have made a breathtaking sight, “how can you visit here so little? This is out of this world!”

“I’m glad you like it here,” Aemond smiles softly at you, watching as you slowly walk through the path, finishing your fruit before you reach and take one of the leaves between your fingers, slowly caressing it before taking a sip of your wine.

“It’s so dreamy, why didn’t you hold your wedding here?” You facepalm yourself, giving him an apologetic smile, “Sorry…”

“Sometimes people just… forget, and I think that’s what I want too, but… the wound is still fresh, I think about her more than I should,” he steps next to you, one hand in his pocket while the other swirls the rose wine in his glass, “besides, this place is too beautiful to waste it on someone like Alys, yeah, I loved her but…I was blinded by her sweet words.”

“I know, it’ll take a little while to get there, you know. Sometimes you feel unworthy, so ugly and bruised by everything but… it’ll get better.”

“It will, this place helps a bit, and I’m sure Aegon’s massive parties will be very helpful as well,” he grins at you.

“Yeah? Well, it definitely feels like a new beginning, right?” You ask him, taking a step away from him, biting your lip while smiling, keeping your eyes on him as he scoffs, “Which one will you choose for your birthday party, sir?”

“Which one did you like?” He asks and takes a step forward, finishing his glass. He hears his Mum calling you to go for lunch, but before you go, you answer him.

“The Rosè.”

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond #prince aemond #🍊dreams

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maxtermind · 3 months

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SCENE 1 :: YOU TORE ME RIGHT APART ↳ you were never not mine — carlos sainz ༉‧₊˚✧

★ : pairing :: carlos sainz x reader ★ : genre :: angst; fluff separated by a hidden emotional turmoil, carlos and y/n navigate the complexities of co-parenting their twins amidst the high-stakes f1 world. amidst paddock visits and personal healing, will they go further apart or find their way back to each other? ★ : a/n :: oh fuck okay here we go! let me know what you guys think so far <3 what are the theories!! ahhhhhh this is more introductory? but lots of drama nevertheless <3 please don't mention the diff twin pics, i'll start crying!

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yn.user 41 mins ago

yn.user boys are here to support their papa!

username OMG THE IT BABIES ARE BACK ON TRACK charlesleclerc I know they were rooting for me in red🏎 I loved the bracelet btw❤️‍🩹 ⤷ carlossainz dress up leo in red and leave my kids alone username I WOULD KILL TO HAVE Y/N AND CARLOS AS MY PARENTS carlossainz papa won this for his family👍 ⤷ username it's so cute that even though they are separated, carlos never leaves out y/n ⤷ username I think it's his loss, he wants them back so he's playing a persona w words like 'family' lol ⤷ username please get a life, touch some grass🙏 username THE BABIES MADE A BRACELET FOR CARLOS ⤷ landonorris I got one toooooo

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carlossainz 20 mins ago

carlossainz who said weekends with papa are a bore?

landonorris whoring on main papa sainz? ⤷ carlossainz please unfollow❤️ username DILFFFFF username carlos can I also be your baby mama???? y/n.user MUMMA MISSES HER BABIES ⤷ carlossainz we miss you too ⤷ username pretty sure she was talking about the kids carlos lmao username it's so strange that now we get the updates from separate accounts I miss the og paddock fam ⤷ username well people move on so🤷‍♀️ ⤷ username only the real ones rmb the sainz x y/n post spams lmao

yn.user just now

yn.user stole my tortured heart💫

username who plays cards alone on a beach? 👀 username y/n’s cryptic post has me guessing mhmmm a new love interest maybe?! ⤷ username cards on the beach when alone? definitely not alone. who’s the mystery company hehe carlossainz looks like a peaceful day. glad you're finding time for yourself! ⤷ yn.user hope the boys are still up! returning the call soon🥰 lilymhe finally enjoying some well-deserved relaxation💖 ⤷ yn.user love youuu username i see cards but no players. who's with you y/n username we need more context omg is this a date ⤷ username probably with lily lol username at first i thought you were with carlos but he's in the comments soooo does that mean a new romance

carlos is typing... (y/n's pov)

f1.wags 2 mins ago

f1.wags Our sources have spotted Y/N, ex-partner of F1 driver Carlos Sainz, enjoying a cozy dinner with an unidentified man. The two were seen sharing intimate moments, sparking rumors of a new romance. Could this be the start of a new chapter for Y/N? Stay tuned for more updates as we dig deeper into this developing story.

username wow, moving on already? poor carlos username she couldn't wait a little longer before flaunting her new man username guess she never really loved carlos. just saying ⤷ username carlos deserves better than someone who moves on so fast ⤷ username its been almost half a year? username poor kids. this is why you should never have kids out of wedlock ⤷ username hey good morning, i think you time traveled to 200 years forward. please go back username she’s just trying to make carlos jealous. grow up, y/n username so much for being a loving mother? priorities lol ⤷ username boys were with carlos for one weekend and this is how she spends it ⤷ username from a perfect family to this? disappointing username carlos is better off without her. clearly, she didn’t care about him ⤷ username fr y/n's true colors are showing now. carlos dodged a bullet

carlos is typing... (y/n's pov)

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

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7brownsuga7 · 11 months

Note

Can you write a fanfic of yandere jk or taehyung with reader as their daughter in law whose husband can't get her pregnant because he is suffering from Azoospermia (low sperm count) but their family is really strict about continuing their family line, as he is their only son so jk or tae decided to take matter into their own hand. Please consider this!! I am really looking forward to it.

Hey!! Omg I found writing this so fun, I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it! I couldn’t decide on Jk or Tae lol I’m indecisive as fuck.

Tae|JK

Word count: 2k +

Genre + warnings: smut drabble- minors DNI. Smut, angst, unprotected sex, breeding, daddy kink, yandere, infidelity, taboo, forceful, dominance, praise kink, he kind of takes advantage of her??? But consensual

Updated: pt.2 here

“Shhh, you’re doing good sweetheart”

You would have never thought you’d hear those words come out of your father-in-laws mouth, matter of fact you never thought he’d be fucking you in the same room you share with your husband.

When your husband told you about his situation, you couldn’t help but to feel overwhelmed with so many emotions. You sat on your bed crying your eyes out at the situation you and your husband were in. Although it was a personal situation between you and your husband, it also meant that his family line had a low chance of continuing, and you knew how strict his parents were about that. You was currently somewhat home alone, your husband having stormed out and wanting some alone time and his mother out for a dinner with her friends. His father was probably somewhere in his office like he is most of the time.

You muffle your cry with your hand, tears staining your burgundy night dress as you lay back and let your cries sing you to sleep.

During the night after a long and stressful phone call with his son does your father-in-law walk into your room to see you asleep in your dress, bare thighs exposed for his wondering eyes to see. His cock hardens just from the sight of your ass peaking out from under your dress.

You look so innocent and sad. Hurt and lonely. If only you knew of the things he could provide for you. He’d never let you lay here alone, tears staining your cheeks.

He was already furious with his son, yes the situation not being his son’s fault at all, but now he had to take things into his own hands for the sake of continuing his family line. He would never admit it was also a reason to fuck you. Something he’s been longing for since his son brought you to their home. He had an infatuation with you. He’d touch himself just thinking about your pussy wrapped around his cock. The fact that you was so innocent and oblivious to his intentions made him all the more crazed. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to fuck you, it was a miracle waiting to happen.

He reaches the bed, your below him unaware of his cock that hardens in his black slacks. His large hand caresses your leg, feeling the goosebumps that appear instantly. He smiles when your eyes flutter open, his hand coming up to your cheek to softly stroke it.

“I’m here” he coos, sitting down next to you on the bed.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do” you admit. Your eyes watering again just from the mention of the situation. You stare up at him with your wet eyelashes, and all he can think about is how you would look watching him as he shoves his cock down your throat. He knew he’s being insensitive towards the situation, but he can’t help himself to think these thoughts when he’s around you.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ll sort it out” you sniff at his reassuring words. It’s as if you’re talking to your husband right now. The resemblance is so uncanny. The tears that stream down your face are wiped away by his fingers, his suggestive words of, “I know, I know” and “come here” calm you down a bit.

You scoot closer to him, unaware of his intentions as his hands creep up your dress towards your bare pussy. You sniff, holding back a moan as his fingers brush against your wet folds.

“Let me make everything better” his lips brush against your neck. You nod, biting your lip as his finger enters you.

So tight and wet, just as he expected.

His finger works its way in and out of you, his eyes on you as you continue to breathe heavily at the use of his fingers. As much as he wants to continue this, his main goal is to fuck you. To breed you matter of fact. He can’t wait to fill you up, to feel your bare pussy wrapped around his cock as he fucks you. He was pissed that his son had gotten to you first. But he’d be the actual one to breed you and that was more than he can ask for.

“Lay back for me love” he urges, too eager to stretch you out with his cock.

You comply, dress bunched up as you scoot back on the bed. His tall frame leaning over you as he watches you in awe. Your bare pussy open for him to see. It glistening under the dim bedroom lights from your wetness. What he would do to taste you, but he knows he has priorities. Hopefully another day.

His hand moves your legs apart, properly exposing you for his hungry eyes to see. He eagerly unbuckles his belt and allows his cock to breathe from the tight space it was in in his slacks.

He strokes his cock along your folds, collecting your juices before he lets his tip enter your tight pussy. It’s like the air is sucked out of you when the rest of his big, hard cock enters you. Stretching you out just like he wanted. It pushes into you and you lay there wondering how much more of him is left, you can barely take what is left inside you.

Tight.

So tight.

Every inch that pushes into you, stretches you out so gracefully you’re a whimpering mess. He grabs your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed. His strokes becoming more hard and fast as you adjust to his size.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long” he coos.

He can’t believe how good you feel. Your walls closing around him with every stroke. Your tight walls gripping around him has him ready to risk it all. He never knew just how addicting you could be. He’s so eager to fuck you. As each whimper leaves your lips, his hips move at a more forceful speed. He’s unable to hold himself back and he’s not even ashamed of it. He’s not sure if this is the only time he’ll get to fuck you so he wants to make the most out of it before this night comes to an end.

“Shhh, you’re doing good sweetheart”

Your breasts fight to spill out of your dress as his thrusts cause your body to jolt.

You cry.

You cry because of the sting you feel caused by his cock stretching you out. The pleasure you feel making it almost unbearable for you to take any more. His strokes so precise and officiant that your moans turn into cries all together.

You cry because you feel guilty, but it’s too good to stop now.

He sees you cry and wonders why. He’s aware that he’s taken advantage of your weakness, you being fragile has allowed him to take advantage of this situation, and he’s happy that he did. His dreams and fantasies coming true.

“It’s okay, daddy’s got you”

His thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away your tears before he leans down and grabs your thighs, lifting you up with his cock still inside you.

“Please ugh” you choke out as his hands grip onto your ass, lowering you down his long hard length. You try to lift yourself up, unable to take him, but he just lowers you back down at a quicker speed.

“P-please I can’t” his cock continues to penetrate you which leaves you gasping for air, tears still running down your cheeks as he completely takes over.

Your pussy is soaking, running down your thigh and onto his pelvis. The slushing sounds you create prove that.

“Look at how you take my cock so well” his neck bends down slightly to capture your breast in his mouth as he sucks on it. You let out a moan, your pussy clenching around him causing his moves to falter.

“Fuck you’re so tight” he nips at your nipple which causes you to yelp in surprise, especially when he slaps your ass.

He throws you back on the bed. Your dress barely covering your body anymore as your breast spill out from it, the dress bunched up around your waist exposing your lower half to him. You’re a panting mess, not knowing what he’s going to do next as he slowly walks over to the bed, dark eyes watching you like you’re his prey.

“Lay on your stomach and arch your back for me princess”

If only he could have you in every position known to man, he would in a heartbeat. He wants to fuck you in every position his son has had you in. However, time is of the essence.

But when you lay before him, face down ass up, your head resting on your silk bed cover and hands placed helplessly in front of you as he enters you from behind, does he battle with himself to risk everything. Your bare pussy and ass exposed for him to see, and oh was it a sight. He’d only imagined what you’d look like bent over for him, but now he has the honor of having you for the night. His strokes are slow and precise. He’s managing to hit every spot so gracefully it already has your knees ready to give out. His large hands rest on each side of your ass, guiding your ass towards his hard length.

You whimper when he enters you again and again with more force. The way his fingers dance along your bare back have your toes curling and you wonder if you’ll be able to recover from tonight. He readjusts your dress so that it slightly covers your ass, but it only slides back down your back with every move he makes. The way you feel wrapped so tightly around him has him ready to risk it all, your juices coating his cock with every stroke while you grip around him.

“You’re such a good girl, hmm?” He bites his bottom lip as he watches his cock go in and out of you, your pussy gripping onto him in ways that make his head spin. His cock can’t even go all the way in, he chuckles to himself at the thought of you whimpering when he hasn’t even got all of him in you. Your moans and whimpers are like music to his ears, encouraging him to fuck you recklessly.

“Such a good girl letting daddy fuck you like this”.

Your arms stretch out in front of you grasping onto your covers in a somewhat pathetic attempt to relieve yourself from his thrusts. You try to escape, moving your hips forward but with his firm grip on your hips, you’re not going anywhere.

“Don’t run, show me that you can take it”

You’re sensitive and overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you’re receiving, with the added force it’s a whole new experience for you. You’ve never been fucked like this, even by your husband. You’re unsure if you should even be thinking about him right now with his father fucking you as recklessly as this.

Your moans are muffled by the bed covers , your grip on them tightening as you can feel him in your stomach. Your orgasm is quickly approaching with each thrust. It’s when he grunts and slaps your ass that has you weak, but when he rubs your puckered hole with his thumb, that’s when you lose what’s left of your composure. You start mumbling your words, edging further and further up the bed as you try to escape his cock that continuously rams into you. Pussy clenching as your orgasm subsides, you yelp out when you become overly sensitive.

“Please please please, i”

He pushes you down by your back, forcing you to lay on your stomach, his hand grabs your hips adjusting them so your ass is slightly up. You’re silent as he slowers his pace, providing you with slow strokes that have you lost for words. You’re sure you’re going to cum again. He watches as his cock disappears in you. He can watch you take him all day.

“You’re so wet sweetheart, look at you” you feel his hands grabbing your wrists and holding them in place as he is positioned on top of you, him sliding into you from behind. You’re so fucked out you can’t utter a full sentence, just mumbles and whimpers. He’s so big and he’s stretching you out completely. You’re tired and are surprised that you’re able to take him let alone take him for this long. You collapse on the bed, knees giving out causing you to be laid flat out on the bed. He holds his cock, guiding it in and out of you, watching as your juices mix with your cream coating the base of his cock.

“Fuck y/n” he looks up at the ceiling trying to prolong his orgasm that he knows is approaching. He doesn’t want this to end just yet, but the way you lay in-front of him, your sensitive pussy stretching around him, he knows he’s close.

You both continue in that position, his grunts continuing as he uses both arms to keep himself up. A slap to your ass is delivered before he tells you to turn around. You comply chest rising as you watch him guide his cock along with your entrance. He watches you with low eyes, as you watch him back. Your breaths in sync as you wait for him to slide it back in. And he does, so slowly it’s almost agonising. You both watch as he enters you, you can’t believe how big he is. He stops when he’s mostly inside of you, his hand holding the rest of his length as he guides it in and out. He closes his eyes for a moment, unable to watch your eyes and your lips and the way your face is still stained in tears. You’re intoxicating.

He lifts your legs up so they are both in the air, allowing him more excess to your pussy. What a sight it is, the way it’s swollen and glistens before him. The way it wraps around him so perfectly he’s sure your pussy was made just for him.

He watches you with so much intensity that your eyes flutter closed. “Open them for me, I want you to watch” you nod watching him before you look down and watch each thrust.

You know he’s close when his thrust become more intense, he shoves his cock deep inside you not caring about your sensitivity. His skin collides with yours, creating no room for you to escape his thick length. You can’t believe that your orgasm is approaching again, you don’t know how much more you can take, you’re already fucked out.

His eyes never leave yours, the intensity and lust behind them, and the way he’s buried deep inside you causes shivers to run down your spine as your legs shake. “Good girl, let it out, let it out” he coos as he strokes your cheek.

It all becomes too much for you, your words and breath stuck in your throat. You feel everything so intensely.

“Shh, you got it. Im almost there”

And with a few more strokes, he is because you feel his cock twitch and a warm liquid engulf you. “Fuuuck”. He continues for a moment, riding out his orgasm. Eventually he pulls out, and you both watch as his load drips out from inside of you. He hold his dick in his hand and allows his red sensitive tip to rub against your hole, his cum coating his tip. “Look at that” he smirks.

“I told you I’d make everything better”

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norrizzandpia · 11 months

Text

She’s Missed You (OP81)

Summary: In which Nicole and Chris welcome Oscar’s longtime girlfriend to live with them after he leaves, only to not tell him and have to update him when he shows up for a surprise visit.

Warnings: i forgot if there’s language in this, i don’t think so but maybe? Sort of angst, reader really misses him, THE CUTEST LITTLE THINGS WITH OSCAR’S FAMILY (i would write a whole ass imagine about what it would be like if reader was super close to Oscar’s little sisters and took them out on mornings to get coffee and such if y’all would like that lmk)

Note: I KNOW IT’S NOT A REQUEST IM SORRY I WILL GET THROUGH THOSE BUT THERE IS MORE TO COME TN SO HOLD TIGHT

The feverish knocking on the Piastri’s door late at night had Chris clutching a baseball bat in his hands, stepping suspiciously toward the slab of wood. When he reached it, swinging it open and bracing for a manic person to jump out at him, he quickly realized that aggression was not the needed emotion.

Y/n stood with teary eyes, staring back at the man who had become her second father, and asked him quietly, hesitantly if she could come in. The bat was quickly shoved to the corner of the foyer, Chris’s hands coming to usher her in, wrapping around her shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. Nicole appeared from the hallway and gave him a quizzical look when she saw the way he was hugging their son’s girlfriend, the way he was consoling her.

Their hearts dropped when they heard her cry, “I miss Oscar.”

—

From that night on, Y/n slept in his room. With him being consistently away with F1, the parents had found out she was drowning in the amount of longing she held for her boyfriend, their son. They were accommodating and gentle to the girl they had known for years, even forcing her to call out of work for the first few days in order to settle in. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been over to their house, spending nights there with Oscar multiple times throughout the year before he had left to travel the world. It was just that she hadn’t been there alone. She hadn’t even shown up at their doorstep seeking a stay in his comforting four walls, but Nicole had insisted when she heard the way Y/n was dealing with the hard transition.

The parents were close to calling Oscar, but just when they decided they would, Y/n made them promise they wouldn’t. She had explained to them that if he knew how much she was struggling with his departure, he would come back and that would ruin his good streak with the season. So, the family kept quiet, dodging questions about her when they finally were able to get ahold of their son. His sisters, Chris, and Nicole were the only ones to hold the knowledge that Y/n was sleeping in her boyfriend’s bed. To be honest, they all secretly found it endearing how she would come back to their home after a long day at work, have dinner with the family, and retreat back to his room to smell him on his sheets and in the sweatshirts she stole from his closet.

The girls, his sisters, absolutely adored her being there, seeing as she would take them to Starbucks whenever she could, allowing for their bond to grow deeper. Their Saturdays were spent holing up in Y/n’s car to eat donuts and slurp down sugar coffee while watching stupid YouTube videos and grilling Y/n on embarrassing Oscar moments.

Nonetheless, as fun as it was, Y/n still felt a hole in her heart when she closed his door and came face to face with his empty bed. All she wanted was to see him, to feel him and his touch, yet she would have to settle for their few and far between FaceTimes.

It was so carefully crafted, the secret the family withheld from Oscar, that they were all so convinced he would never find out.

That was until his surprise visit.

—

Rapid knocking on their door for the second time in six months had Nicole and Chris at a loss for words. The raps being thrown against the entry to their house was powerful and held an urgency that was unmistakable.

“Can you get that, Nicole?” Chris asked her as he washed dishes from the dinner they had had earlier that night.

She nodded, traipsing over to the quickening pounds and opening the door. What met her was her smiling son with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands, a sight so dearly missed she almost fell into a puddle of tears.

“Oscar!” She exclaimed, jumping at her son and tackling him in the arms he had grown to seek comfort in.

At the mention of his son’s name and the sound of his wife's squealing, Chris peaked his head around the corner of their kitchen, catching a glimpse of the infamous brown hair. His smile was unwavering as he dropped the glasses with a loud clunk and ran over to the commotion at the front door.

“What are you doing here?!” He laughed as he wrapped his arms around his wife and son, a picturesque family.

Oscar’s muffled voice responded, “Thought I’d surprise you with the free time I have from the race being pushed back.”

The three of them disbanded, Nicole’s and Chris’s confused faces making him continue.

“Spa’s date was pushed back because of the storm they’re having right now. The race is scheduled for two weeks from now, but that could be pushed back as well because of the repairs they have to do. It hasn’t been publicized yet, that’s why you don’t know.”

At the new information, the story came together and his parents were nodding, bringing him into another hug after having not seen him for so long.

“I’ll be right back down, I’m just going to go drop off my bags in my room.” He murmured in their chests as they squeezed him tightly. The two were so excited to see him, they weren’t thinking about the girl that laid asleep in the very room their son was trying to get to.

He was halfway up the stairs when his mother yelled for him despite the rest of the house being asleep, “Oscar!”

He popped his head over the railing, “What?”

She walked to the end of the stairs, curling her finger at him, “I need you to come back down here.”

His head tilted, but he didn’t argue. His steps prodded at the rug underneath and when he reached his mother, she was ushering him to sit down on their couch.

“I need to tell you something before you go up there.” She eyed him seriously.

“Did you redecorate my room?” He deadpanned, looking at her with faux disappointment.

She shook her head, “No, Osc, baby, it’s about Y/n.”

At the mention of his girlfriend, Oscar’s demeanor changed.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, concerned.

She shook her head, Chris coming to join them on the plush cushions, “Nothing’s wrong with her physically. More mentally. She’s really missed you, Oscar.”

He nodded as if it was obvious, “I’ve missed her too. What does this have to do with my room?”

“She’s in there.” Nicole’s words struck him, but she didn’t allow for questions as she continued, “A few months ago, she showed up here and she was… she was just so tired, Oscar. She was crying and telling us how much she missed you, how happy she was that you had fulfilled your dreams, how proud of you she was, but how, at the end of the day, she couldn’t bear not seeing you. There was nothing to do, but try and comfort her which was a hard feat within itself. Understandably so, I came to the conclusion it would be beneficial if she stayed in your room for a while. Get it? She missed you and the only thing I could think would help her was staying in a place that smelled like you, felt like you were there. So, that’s how we ended up here. She’s been living with us for the past few months.”

By the end of it, Oscar was deeply confused for one particular reason, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Chris sighed, seemingly signaling to his wife he would answer, “She didn’t want us to. Trust me, we tried, but she made us promise we wouldn’t. She didn’t want you to hear and then come back here in the middle of the season, jeopardizing how good you’re doing.”

He scoffed, “You still should’ve told me if she was struggling.”

Nicole landed her hand on his knee, rubbing softly, “Oscar, it was better to have her here and watch over her then drive her away by telling you. I would’ve loved to have both, but that wasn’t reality. Reality was that your father and I had to make a judgment call and we decided what was best. That was what was best. She’s gotten better. Sure, she still misses you, but, before, she was living all alone without anyone and I can only imagine how lonely she must’ve been. With her family moving away and everything, she really had no one to come home to when you had usually been there every time. We were able to give her that piece, so we did.”

Oscar’s mind calmed, realizing who he really needed to focus on, and he nodded at his parents.

“I understand, thank you.” He whispered, standing up and walking toward the stairs.

Nicole and Chris didn’t respond, instead watching as their son took two stairs at a time to get to his girlfriend faster.

When he was out of sight, his footsteps looming over them, Nicole whispered to her husband, “I can’t wait until they get married.”

—

His hand smoothed over the cool metal of his bedroom door, taking a moment to calm himself down before opening the door.

What he found was his lovely girlfriend asleep in his childhood bed, a sight that younger Oscar would go crazy for. The Australian shuffled in and closed the door lightly, placing his bags on the floor gently.

When he was ready, he tiptoed over to her side, sitting down and brushing his hand over her arm that stuck out from the comforter.

“My love, wake up.” He said softly, hand caressing up and across her cheekbone.

She stirred, deep in sleep, but settled back down after a few seconds. Oscar smiled warmly, leaning down and kissing her forehead, trailing down to plant a kiss on her cheek, and then meeting her lips lightly.

That seemed to wake her enough for her to realize someone else was in the room with her. Her eyes fluttered open and stared at Oscar for a second. He clocked the way she seemed to hesitate, wondering if it was really him. He wanted her to understand he was really here with her, so he kissed her once more, this time with more intention. His hand smoothed her hair back and when she began to kiss him back, hands falling onto his back, he pulled away.

“Hi, baby.” He said against her lips.

She didn’t say anything, mumbling something incoherent, before her eyes teared up. The shine of the tears falling down the side of her face had his hands coming to pull her up from her laid down position. He pulled their bodies upright, so he could suffocate her in the material of his hoodie and the lengths of his arms.

She cried into his chest, squeezing at his hips when he whispered how much he loved her, how much he missed her.

Oscar was tired from traveling and even though his eyes felt heavy, he still initiated the conversation he needed to have with her, “Why didn’t you tell me you were staying here? Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling?”

Her head stayed glued to the hardness of his body, “Because I’m not going to be the kind of girlfriend that can’t handle her boyfriend going away from time to time.”

“But, baby, it’s not from time to time. It’s every weekend. You’re entitled to struggle, I was struggling just as you were. If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I can’t help you and I can’t be the boyfriend I want to be for you.”

She nodded as she sniffled, “I guess, you’re right. I just don’t want you to think that you have to come back here every time you get a break. I want you to be able to travel and see what your job allows you to see. You’ve always loved to travel, I don’t want to be the reason you don’t pursue that to its fullest extent.”

“No, Y/n, I want to come back here every time I get a break. I know I love traveling, but I’m doing it so much now that when I do get time, I don’t want to spend it off somewhere foreign, I want to spend it with you.”

He took her silence as agreement, shifting the two of them in his arms so they could lie back down on his small bed.

In the darkness of the night, he watched her fall back asleep easily, wondering if that had been something she had had trouble with during their time apart like he did.

He was so enthralled with her finally being back in his arms, he didn’t realize how long he had been watching her sleep until the rising of the sun mocked him.

It was only when the commotion of his household began to erupt, Y/n waking up beside him and suggesting they sleep in a little longer, that he allowed himself to fall asleep right next to the girl who had missed him dearly.

The girl he had missed dearly.

#mclaren #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #oscar piasstri #oscar pia #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #oscar pastry #op81 #mclaren formula 1

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covington-shenanigans · 6 months

Text

so I'm on this app, Marco Polo, where you stay in touch with people by means of sending video messages. (there are probably other features, but I'm a free user, so I remain blissfully ignorant of them.) mostly I use it to annoy my sister. ("BITCH WHAT IF I GOT A PHALLOPLASTY AND HAD A BABY SHOWER FOR MY DICK. WE COULD HAVE ZUCCHINI FRITTERS. DICK-SHAPED PASTA. BANANAS FOSTER. DO U SEE MY VISION")

anyway, during the Hell Year of 2020, I saw my childhood best friend (let's call her Lee) was on this app. and like.

when I say "my childhood best friend", I mean the Weird Girl next door, who saw the Weird Girl that I was. I mean the girl I played with from age five until just shy of eleven, when my family moved away. I mean the girl I played with every day, for hours and hours, making up all kinds of elaborate scenarios involving our menagerie of stuffed animals. there were multiple overlapping, soap opera-style plotlines that lasted for years. there was drama. heartbreak. glory. she was the first friend I remember having. she was the first girl I ever loved, in my five-year-old way.

well, I hadn't seen Lee in at least 20 years and I was like, "holy shit! Lee!!!" so I sent her a "hey, nice to see you here, how you been" message.

again, this was late 2020.

now, I had been on T for a scant three months when I sent the first message, so I was a mere baby child, relative to the gruff manly man I am now. no beard, my voice had only started to wobble, still had tits... you get it. keep this in mind, it'll be important later.

I never heard back from her, but we're both Old, so I was like "eh, she probably forgot she installed the app" and forgot about it. we'd exchanged text messages at some point during the Hell Year, but like many people my age she doesn't really text, and I'm not calling anyone if I don't have to, so our communication had been sporadic, at best.

well. today I got a notification that she sent me a reply on Marco Polo.

I figured, well, she's replying to me 3.5 years late, but better late than never. I have ADHD and no friendship degradation mechanic, so I'm excited! yay! friend! :D

and then I remember. "...oh shit. she doesn't know I'm trans."

so. the thing is. I'm from Mississippi, which is. very very fucking conservative. I know Lee grew up Southern Baptist. I also know she's still living in the same town where we grew up and where she eventually graduated from high school and college. last I checked she was still attending the same Southern Baptist church where she grew up and her remaining living parent is still living in Lee's childhood home.

so this is either going to be Fine or it's going to be a disaster. lol.

in thinking it through, I figure either she's seen my updated profile pic, where I have the beard etc., or she hasn't. so either she's going to acknowledge this change or she isn't. okay. these are the possibilities. so I watch the message.

...the secret third option is... she seems to not realize when I sent the message? "sorry, I missed this when I was at work!" girl. what? I mean, you probably did miss it while you were at work... three and a half years ago. possibly she meant to reply to someone else and got me instead?

whatever. who knows. doesn't matter.

because I have the opportunity to do the funniest fucking thing in the world now

#covington-shenanigans gets personal #story time #marco polo #trans stuff #childhood friends #trans man #transmasc #trans men

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logansargeantsbabymom · 5 months

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Too Good To Say Goodbye pt2

Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader, Grid x Fem!Reader

warnings: cursing, pregnancy, shit-talking, grid baby

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I part 7 I part 8 I part 9 I part 10

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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It had been 5 months since my last encounter with Logan. Well, the last time I actually talked to him, if you would consider the argument we had as “talking”.

After I stormed out the house with my suitcase I made my way to my Best Friend Lily’s house and told her everything. Since Lily lives with Alex, he obviously heard everything that happened and absolutely reamed Logan a new asshole.

Lily and Alex were nice enough to let me stay at their place until I was able to get on my own feet again. Lily was adamant on making me stay until after the baby was at least 6 months old, so that I could comfortably move everything out without dealing with either a pregnancy bump or a newborn that would need constant attention.

Today was the Miami Grand Prix and I attended to cheer on my Grid family and the second Logan’s eyes fell on me, he sprinted over, his hand immediately touching my stomach

“oh my baby, how are you my love? how’s she doing for you?” Logan said coming in to try and place a soft kiss to my lips, only for me to step back “cmon babe. i’ve done everything to win you back, let me just be with you. i need to be in my daughters life” Logan said with pleading eyes.

“and you will be, just not with me in yours,” i say, removing his hands from my bump “and don’t touch my stomach without my permission, especially when it’s hot outside.”

Logan looked shocked at my comment but tried to shrug it off putting his hands right back on my stomach “my pretty girl, tell your mommy to forgive daddy, daddy didn’t mean what he said”

“Hey! She fucking said to stop touching her.” a voice yells, Logan turn to see who interrupted his time with both his love and his baby

“Listen Lando, this doesn’t concern you.” Logan scoffed attempting to put his hands right back on my stomach but Lando quickly stepped in front of me.

“It actually does concern me, seeing as you’re touching my girlfriend AFTER she told you to stop.” Lando’s voice stern, absolutely shocking Logan

“your girlfriend?” Logan looked sad, heartbroken and utterly confused

“yes, MY girlfriend,” Lando started “The woman you let slip away, the woman who might be carrying your baby but will probably see me as her dad, the woman you mistreated, the woman of my dreams and my beautiful, strong, confident girlfriend”

My hormones were absolutely not on my side because the more Lando went on, the more I started crying.

I’ve never felt this type of love with Logan, I mean yeah in the beginning of the relationship it was pure bliss, but after the first 2 months it was just like we were roommates that fucked and occasionally told the other we loved them whenever we were in private.

In public however, we seemed like the happiest ever, like there was nothing wrong in our world. That we were obsessed with each other, like the world would stop revolving if we were conjoined at the hip.

I can admit, for 2 weeks after my breakup with Logan and blurting out that I was once again with child, I couldn’t stop thinking about how cruel it would be to my daughter to not be with her father and for a second I almost went running back to Logan and begged him to forgive me for my outburst and to take me back. When I went to confide in Lando and ask him if I should go back, he told me that was the dumbest thing I could’ve done because if it is beneficial for my daughter it would be the worst years of my life knowing her dad thinks so lowly of me.

Lando was really my rock during my whole breakup and pregnancy, he encouraged me to move out of Lily and Alex’s house and into his in case something happened in the middle of the night, if I needed something and just because he overall thought I shouldn’t have to live alone while I was pregnant.

Lily thought it was weird that I moved into Lando’s place just 2 weeks after moving in with her but she made me promise to go over to hers at least once a day so she could talk to her niece.

I was quickly pulled out of my daze when I felt a small tug on my arm. It was Lando urging me into the McLaren garage after Logan started throwing a hissy fit.

“What the fuck is his problem?” Lando said with a light chuckle to ease the mood, placing his hand on the small of my back before quickly yanking it away. “Sorry, I know you just yelled at Logan for touching you without permission, and I just did the same thing. Can I touch you?” Lando asks, genuinely upset that he did the same thing I reprimanded Logan for, the only difference? I craved Lando’s touch, whereas Logan’s sent a nasty shiver down my spine.

Both my hands taking both of Lando’s. One hand I guide to the small of my back and the other I guide to my bump and I watch as Lando’s eyes widen.

This is the first time I’ve let someone other than Lily touch my belly and Lando was determined to take in this moment. The look of excitement evident on his face as he feels her kick.

“OH MY GOSH, DID YOU FEEL THAT? I mean- obviously you felt that, she’s inside of you but SHE KICKED Y/N/N, SHE KICKED!” Lando screamed in excitement, almost like a kid in a candy shop.

The look of adoration and love on Lando’s face made my heart almost burst. I drowned out all the excited squeals from Lando as I pulled him in for a kiss, smiling into it.

“You’re so cute when you’re excited,” I start saying before seeing the engineers ushering Lando to his car "Okay lover boy, give me a kiss and go to your car" I said pulling him right back into a quick kiss.

"Can I give baby a kiss too?" Lando asks with pleading eyes

"LANDO, GET A MOVE ON MATE! RACE STARTS IN 5" Oscar yells from the inside of his car before putting his helmet on

I chuckled before giving Lando a nod watching him as he quickly leans down and presses a firm kiss on the top of my belly before dedicating the race to my unborn daughter.

Dedicating a race to someone is a big task, if you end with a bad position or DNF it makes everything awkward but I have faith that Lando will end up on the podium.

We’re now down to the last 10 laps and the gap from Lando in first and Max in second just keeps getting bigger and bigger. The anxiety I’m feeling right now is worse than when I was waiting for my pregnancy test results.

The amount of laps only decreased and with every lap down, the gap grew. Once we were down to the last lap and the gap from Lando to Max was at a whopping 7.7 seconds everyone knew that Lando had secured his first win, he just needed to not fuck up and crash.

Once the checkered flag came into view, tears welled up in my eyes. Not only had Lando secured his first Formula 1 win but he had prior dedicated this race to my babygirl.

As the team ran to the pit lane, Zak came to view and offered me his arm which I gladly took as we made our way to where Lando would soon be.

"Lando's lucky to have you by his side, I know he dedicated his race to the little one," Zak starts. I can tell Zak wants to add more but he doesn't want to overstep a boundary, but with a nod of approval from me, he continues. "How do you feel about this whole Lando-Logan situation?"

"What do you mean?" I cock an eyebrow at him

"I mean with Logan being your daughters biological father but Lando being more of a full-time dad than Logan'll be?" a confused look falls over my features as I think over Zak's question. "I mean no disrespect Y/N, just curious."

"No, no I mean. We wouldn't be in this situation if Logan hadn't acted the way he did, so if he doesn't see his daughter as often as he wants that's his problem." I said nonchalantly shrugging. "But no more Logan talk. Lando actually finished the race and finished first, I think we should all celebrate." I say as I unlock my arm from Zak's as I watch Lando get put down from the crowd of McLaren engineers as he makes his way to me, wrapping an arm around me pulling me into a big sweaty hug.

"Oh my gosh Lando, I love you but you smell incredibly sweaty and it's gonna make me throw up." I say half joking as I gag, not even noticing the slip up. Not at least until I see Lando smile impossibly harder, " what?"

"You said you love me" I didn't even have a chance to process that I did in fact say that I loved him because Lando pulled me into a hot and steamy kiss, one that for sure would also make the news in a few minutes.

"I mean I didn't think that I'd be able to love, especially not after Logan. You changed that for me, but my god, please get on the podium and shower. I'm going to throw up." I say with love, adoration, proudness and sickness in my voice all at once.

"I love you so much more. You and baby" Lando says before pressing another quick kiss to my lips before being dragged to the cool down room

After the podium celebration and a shower Lando makes his way to me, pressing a tender kiss to my lips before asking me "All of the grid some team principals are going to this one bar, it's karaoke night. I really want to go but if you're not feeling up to it, we can just stay in at the hotel."

"Baby, you just scored your first win. Of course we can go." I say as I put my hand on his cheek before moving it to his hair, running my finger though it.

When we got to the bar we automatically spot the rest of the grid. I mean how could we not, they took up half the bar space?

"Baby, you can go grab a seat, I'm gonna grab us drinks, and before you say anything. Yes, I'm getting you a f/d." Lando said pressing a kiss to my temple.

"You know me so well. I'm gonna go say hi to everyone." I said as I squeezed Lando's hand before making my way to the group of drivers, WAGS, and team principals.

The second I was spotted by the WAGS they all made a beeline towards me peppering me with questions and asking if they could touch my tummy, all of which I gave permission to. I look at the rest of the table, waving at all of them and they all wave back knowing it might be a minute before they get a proper 'hello' because of all the attention my daughter is getting. I had made brief eye contact with Logan offering a tight-lipped smile before feeling a tap on my shoulder.

"Here you go, pretty girl" Lando says as he offers me my f/d which I gladly accept before looking back at Logan, only to find that his spot is empty. I don't give it much thought before I indulge myself in a conversation with the rest of the WAGS as Lando goes and has individual conversations about his win.

"Ladies and gentleman can I have your attention?" some lady says into the mic "the karaoke machine is now on and we already have our first request!" the bar erupts in claps and whoops as we all wonder who the first singer would be

"Singing 'Too Good to Say Goodbye' by Bruno Mars, put your hands together for Logan Sargeant"

My face fell as the song starts

"I've made mistakes, I could have treated you better. I let you get away. There goes my happily ever after." Logan starts, staring into my soul

"Tell me why, why can't we try and start again? This can't be how our story ends. You're more than my girl, you're my best friend. Tell me you remember when, ooh, I was your man and you were my girl It was you and me against the world" tears start welling in my eyes as he continues singing.

A firm hand on my shoulder pulls me out of my thoughts and I turn to see that its Zak

"Don't you love Bruno Mars, why aren't you singing?" I stare at him, the tears on my waterline threatening to fall. I don't answer him though, I just turn my body back to the man on the stage.

"Yeah, I'm still in love with you darlin'. I know you feel the same Oh, what's the point of both of us being broken hearted? I pray it's never too late" Me? Still in love with you? In your dreams Sargeant

"Girl won't you listen? It's you that I'm missin' . Take my hand, I wanna go, I wanna go. If we're gonna fight this fight for better days. I know we're gonna make it. This is the chance, let's take it." From another person's perspective, this would seem like a nice grand gesture to win back the woman of his dreams. I mean who wouldn't want their man to sing a song about wanting a second chance after he royally screwed up?

"Baby, ain't nobody gonna love me like the way you do. And you ain't never gonna find a love like mine. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you? 'Cause what we got's too good to say goodbye goodbye Baby, ain't nobody gonna love me like the way you do. And you ain't never gonna find a love like mine. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you? 'Cause what we got's too good to say goodbye, goodbye" The songs ends and half the bar erupts on claps and whistles as Logan stares in my eyes before talking into the mic.

"Y/N, baby, I know I screwed up. I'm trying to make this work. For you and our babygirl, just please give me a chance. I don't ask for much, really. Just a chance to undo my wrongs, a chance to make you the happiest woman on earth, a chance to rebuild our family. I want a chance to be in my daughter's life" Logan said sniffling as he wiped his nose before continuing "I really hope you liked this and it's enough to change your mind." Logan finished as he hopped off the stage making his way to me

Lando's protective side started to show a bit because the second he picked up that Logan was making his way to me he instinctively stepped in front of me, only backing up when I rested my hand on his bicep.

"Why? Why would you assume that I'll get back with you after that Logan?" I ask, my eyes raking his face for any type of clues. I don't know what I was expecting to come out of his mouth, but the reply he gave me wasn't it. It also not only made my blood boil, but everyone who knew about the situation's blood boil.

"Zak said you would"

I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS ONEEEEEE <3333

Lemme know if I should keep going!!!

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @eddieharrington

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSesvRpKqBaYY-Ow5IgHoD0gSX6OzJ03qGMXOhHUI6Xg1wfKaA/viewform

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emjayewrites · 1 month

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Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton Fanfic)(7/15)

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @lovebittenbyevans @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @omgsuperstarg @httpsserene @peyiswriting @motheroffae @eugene-emt-roe @perfecttrashface @xoscar03 @saturnville @trentswrld @weetjy @pinkcatcus @lewlewlemon44 @cranberryjulce @chaoticcoffeequeen @vile-harlot @periodjosh @melanin-queen369 @destinyg237

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

CHAPTER 7: Who Want Smoke?

As the Qatar Grand Prix weekend kicked into high gear, Rorie and Lyric strolled the paddock, with fans waving excitedly. Lewis's popularity was stratospheric, but his family's place in the hearts of his supporters was undeniable.

They pushed through the throngs of fans and paparazzi, and Rorie was touched by the outpouring of support directed to them.

"You're an inspiration, Mrs. Hamilton!" "We love your little one!" "Hang in there, you've got this!"

One woman tentatively approached, a gentle smile on her face. "I just wanted to say, as someone who also struggled with infertility, your story gives me so much hope."

Rorie felt her throat tighten with grateful tears as she pulled the stranger into a fierce hug. "Thank you, that means so much to me."

The pit lane was abuzz with pre-race excitement as the teams made their final preparations. Rorie settled into the garage, handing a squirming Lyric over to Rosa's waiting arms. Their son, who proudly wore his custom Mercedes team romper, smiled happily at the woman.

"You're on auntie duty today," Rorie winked at Lewis's communications personnel.

Rosa grinned, cuddling the giggly toddler close on her lap. "My favorite job! We're going to have so much fun, aren't we, my little prince?"

Lyric gurgled happily, grabbing at Rosa's headset with grabby hands. With a chuckle, she gently redirected him to a Mercedes toy car instead.

"He's already a natural in front of the cameras," Rorie chuckled to herself, watching Lyric babble animatedly at the Netflix camera crew capturing footage of him playing with Rosa.

Her smile faded slightly as she scrolled through the latest flurry of emails from her legal team. Despite their relentless efforts, Julian's messages held little in the way of substantive updates on tracking down the anonymous sender of those malicious texts.

"Still digging," his latest read. "But this assailant knows how to cover their tracks."

Rorie worried her lower lip, her mind flashing back to the threats of those messages. But then Lyric's tinkling laughter drifted over, dragging her back to the present. She watched her son squirm excitedly in Rosa's lap, all smiles and unbridled joy.

As the race began, the tension in the garage was palpable. Rorie's heart pounded as she watched Lewis take his place on the starting grid, however, just seconds into the formation lap, her breath caught in her throat as she witnessed Lewis get knocked into the gravel by his teammate George, the front wing of his car destroyed.

"What the fuck is he doing?" she gasped, watching in horror as Lewis unbuckled himself and began walking along the far side of the active track back towards the pit lane.

A collective cry rose from the crew as Lewis narrowly avoided being struck by another passing car. Rorie's heart dropped to her stomach, panic gripping her.

Finally, he returned to the pit lane, jaw clenched and fists flexing agitatedly.

"What the fuck, man!!" he screamed, his fingers hurrying to take off his helmet. Rorie rushed to him, pulling his tense frame into a fierce embrace just as Lyric let out a wail of distress from Rosa's lap.

Lewis's fiery eyes softened instantly at the sound of his son's cries. He reached for the distraught toddler, cradling him close and pressing kisses to his head.

"Shhh, hey, it's okay…" he murmured soothingly. "Daddy's right here. I've got you."

Rorie wrapped her arms tightly around them both, grounding her two men with her steady, reassuring presence. Lewis melted into her embrace, the adrenaline and anger slowly seeping out of his body.

"It's okay, I'm right here," she whispered roughly into his neck, and Lewis breathed in her scent to calm his racing heart.

Rorie wrapped her arms tightly around them both, grounding her two men with her steady, reassuring presence. Lewis melted into her embrace, the adrenaline and anger slowly seeping out of his body.

"Lewis…" Bono's voice cut in tentatively. "The FIA stewards are issuing a non-driving reprimand and a 50,000 pound fine for the track incursion."

Lewis tensed, his jaw clenching as the anger flared again. "I don't give a fuck," he bit out harshly.

"Lewis!" Rorie admonished, slapping his arm chidingly before turning an apologetic look to Bono. "He doesn't mean that. We'll discuss it and work through it properly."

Once Bono had retreated, she fixed her husband with a stern look. "You don't mean that 'I don't give a fuck' nonsense."

To her surprise, Lewis simply chuckled, guiding them to a quiet corner of the garage. He set Lyric down to play with his toy car on the floor. "I mean, Toto looks pissed," he sang in a joking lilt, nodding towards his team principal's stormy expression.

Rorie rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched with amusement. "Of course you'll joke at a time like this."

"It's a better alternative than letting the anger consume me," Lewis said simply. "Now distract me with something, beautiful."

His wife's brow furrowed in thought before her eyes lit up. "Well, Julian did text some updates earlier…"

Lewis kissed his teeth dismissively. "Something better than that mess, love."

A sly grin played across Rorie's lips. "How about…I'm a week late?"

Lewis's eyes widened comically before crinkling with unfiltered joy. "You mean…?"

"We might be having another baby," she confirmed, beaming.

Sweeping her into his arms, Lewis kissed her deeply, reverently. "That's amazing. You know we've been trying…"

Rorie nodded, still glowing. "And, Lil Yachty reached out. He wants me to join him onstage in Austin to perform our song 'The Zone' together."

Lewis's eyes widened with delight before crinkling into a broad grin. "Now that's what I'm talking about! My superstar wife, sharing the spotlight." Pulling her into an embrace, he nuzzled her neck affectionately. "You're definitely doing it. I can't wait to watch you shine, love."

"You really think so?" Rorie bit her lip, a touch of apprehension creeping into her expression. "In front of all those people..."

On a whim, she recorded her parts of the song late last year and was lucky that no one had figured out that it was her singing.

"Of course!" Lewis cupped her face adoringly. "This is your moment. You're going to be incredible, I just know it." He pressed his forehead to hers, their breaths mingling. "And after? Well, I've got a few ideas on how we can celebrate..."

Rorie's cheeks flushed hotly, but her eyes danced with anticipation. Giggling, she swatted him playfully. "Down boy. One thing at a time."

Laughing, Rorie pulled him close, reveling in the way their latest challenges had already transformed into cherished memories in the face of potential new beginnings.

The warm Malibu evening was made for intimate gatherings among friends. Rorie surveyed their patio, smiling as she watched KiKi dance provocatively against Miles, grinding to the pulsing beat of the music.

In the kitchen, Lewis observed the scene with a slight frown. "Does she have to be so…extra?"

Rorie rolled her eyes good-naturedly at her husband's protectiveness over his best friend. "Leave them be, babe. KiKi's just having fun." Abandoning the Mediterranean salad she was prepping, she wound her arms around Lewis's waist from behind. "Speaking of fun…have you checked on your wife lately?"

He turned in her embrace, eyes twinkling as his hands skimmed over her curves. "And how is my gorgeous girl feeling?"

"Mmm, can't complain," Rorie hummed. "But I still haven't taken that test yet."

"Rorie," Lewis groaned exaggeratedly. "The suspense is killing me! You gotta take that test." He stole a slice of cucumber from the salad bowl, grinning unrepentantly when she swatted his hand.

Their gazes drifted to the patio, where Andrew now held a giggling Lyric, the toddler's babbling laughter drifting through the open doors.

"Yeah, yeah...." Rorie murmured wistfully. "I hope he's going to be a good big brother."

Lewis brushed a kiss to her temple. "He might be a bit jealous at first, but he'll grow into it, you'll see."

"I had a good rehearsal with Lil Yachty yesterday for Austin," Rorie said, changing the subject. "Though I'll probably just keep it simple with the choreography."

"That's my wise wife," Lewis chuckled. "Oh, speaking of…I've got that tequila tasting in Mexico the day after tomorrow for Almave."

Rorie clicked her tongue in playful disapproval. "So you'll miss date night with the Biebers?"

"I'll make it up to you." Lewis backed her against the counter, his voice dropping an octave. "I promise…"

The searing trail of his kisses along her neck was interrupted by Spinz's pointed clearing of his throat from the doorway.

"The food's ready, you two. Save it for later, yeah?"

Grinning unabashedly, they reluctantly disentangled and headed outside, Rorie carrying the salad while Lewis grabbed plates and utensils.

As the group settled around the patio table, Lewis raised his glass. "To new adventures - hopefully with a little one on the way…"

He was met with hoots and hollers from their crew. Rorie beamed, shaking her head in mock annoyance at his antics.

"And to smoking out whoever's been playing games," she added, eyes narrowing slightly. "Because I'll personally beat their ass when we find them."

The group erupted into raucous laughter and dug into the spread of grilled meats and vegetables. Whatever storms awaited, they would weather them together - an unbreakable crew fortified by years of love, laughter, and unwavering loyalty.

__________________________________________

The morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains, rousing Rorie from her peaceful slumber. Before she could fully awaken, strong arms encircled her waist, pulling her back against Lewis's solid chest.

"Mmm, where do you think you're going?" he rumbled, voice still husky with sleep as his lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear.

Rorie couldn't stifle a breathy giggle. "Insatiable, aren't we?"

She turned in his embrace, pressing a tender kiss to his lips, but Lewis deepened the kiss hungrily, his eyebrows waggling with suggestive promise.

"Always for you."

A tiny cry from the nursery broke the heated moment. Rorie regretfully unlatched herself from her husband's roaming hands.

"Duty calls," she murmured apologetically, sliding out of bed.

"Tease…" Lewis whined playfully, whipping the covers off to reveal his morning wood with a roguish grin. "Come back to Daddy once you're finished."

Rorie chuckled, shaking her head in fond exasperation. "You're awful."

"Sometimes," was his nonchalant response. "Gotta make sure I put that baby in you."

"Boy, bye," she said as she rolled her eyes. Shrugging into a silk robe, she padded down the hall to Lyric's nursery. The toddler babbled excitedly as she lifted him from the crib, nuzzling his chubby cheeks.

"Good morning, little man."

"Hi Mama!" Lyric chirped, all bright-eyed innocence.

Downstairs, the faint sound of murmurs caught Rorie's ear as she settled Lyric into his high chair with a bottle. Peering out onto the patio, she spotted KiKi in an intense conversation on her phone.

"No…I'm not doing that anymore," KiKi hissed, her back stiff with tension. "I've had enough. Goodbye!"

Rorie's eyebrows shot up incredulously as KiKi spun around, nearly dropping her phone at the sight of her friend. A sickly sweet smile pasted itself across her face.

"Hey girl! Just dealing with some work drama…" KiKi blustered, waving a dismissive hand as she breezed back inside.

Rorie's brow furrowed skeptically. "Everything okay?"

"Oh yeah, totally!" KiKi replied a little too brightly. "Just a difficult customer, you know how it goes."

An uneasy prickle danced along Rorie's spine as recent events swirled in her mind. Shaking it off, she continued assembling a breakfast feast - mounds of fresh fruit, whole grain waffles, and tofu scramble for herself alongside Lyric's preferred avocado toast strips.

KiKi cleared her throat, clearly aiming to change the subject. "So…any thoughts on that test yet?"

Rorie paused, gripping the counter's edge tensely. "I don't know, Ki. Part of me wants to stay in blissful ignorance for now."

Her friend's eyes danced with both mirth and understanding. "Girl, you know that's not how it works. You gotta rip off that band-aid!"

Heaving a reluctant sigh, Rorie nodded. KiKi was right, as usual. She couldn't keep avoiding it. Just then, her phone began trilling shrilly from the other room. Rorie frowned, crossing the living area to retrieve it. The display showed Yael's name and headshot.

Answering with trepidation, she listened in growing disbelief as her image manager's anxious voice tumbled through the line.

"Rorie, you need to call your lawyer. The Sun is threatening to run another disgusting article - this time about your biological father's identity."

A bitter chuckle escaped Rorie's lips. So the rag was digging into her past yet again. She'd known the truth about her deadbeat sperm donor's identity since age twelve, his name the only paltry scrap of information her mother had given her.

"I'll look over the documents you forwarded," she assured Yael neutrally. "But I'm not concerned about that low-life's identity being made public. I've never known the man."

"I still think you should—"

A raucous clatter sounded from the kitchen, followed by Lyric's shrill giggles. Rorie's chest flooded with warmth, their call abruptly forgotten.

"Sorry, Yael but Mommy's messy boy needs me," she chuckled ruefully, hurrying back to the chaos and hanging up.

"He's such a messy eater," KiKi said with a half-smile, wiping at Lyric's face with a wet cloth. KiKi had Lyric halfway out of his high chair, his chubby limbs and cherubic face smeared with mashed avocado and fruit puree. Mother and friend shared an exasperated look as the toddler gurgled happily.

Rorie chuckled and scooped Lyric, peppering his sticky cheeks with kisses. "Oh yes, you are! Mommy's messy boy!" she cooed, causing Lyric to giggle and squirm. But then, reality intruded as Rorie glanced down at her son's soiled clothes. "Can you get him a change of clothes? I have to wipe him down," she asked KiKi.

"Of course, darling," KiKi replied, heading to the nursery. The air in Lyric’s nursery was thick with tension as KiKi entered, trying to maintain her composure despite the discomfort. Lewis was already there, his arms crossed and his expression guarded, as he paused unpacking his son's suitcase.

"Lewis," KiKi said, her voice clipped and formal.

"KiKi," Lewis replied, his tone just as cool.

They stood there for a moment, each sizing the other up, until KiKi finally broke the silence.

"Lyric had an accident so I need to get some clothes."

Lewis let out a long exhale as he walked to the chest of drawers and grabbed a onesie and a pair of shorts. He gave them to KiKi but kept his grasp on the clothes. "You've been acting weird since you got here. What's up?"

"I’m acting weird?" KiKi said, eyebrows furrowing. "Are you high or something?"

Lewis's expression hardened slightly as he released his grip on the clothes. "Just calling it as I’m seeing it."

KiKi felt a wave of anger wash over her at Lewis's accusation. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her cool.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" she asked, her voice laced with frustration.

"I mean, ever since you got here, you've been acting like you're on edge," Lewis replied, his own tone sharp. "So I just want to know what’s going on."

KiKi's jaw tightened as she processed his words. "I don’t know if crashing too many times got your head permanently fucked up, but Aurora’s my best friend, okay? I know that we don’t see eye-to-eye and y’all are knee-deep in an impending lawsuit but I’m loyal to a fault. I would NEVER do anything to mess up Rorie or Lyric."

Upon hearing his wife and son’s names, Lewis's face relaxed. "Fine," he conceded, moving out of KiKi's way. "But I’m watching you. And if I find out you’re doing anything, best believe I’ll take everything from you and have your ass deep in lawsuits you’ll never get out of."

KiKi felt a mixture of anger and hurt at Lewis's words. She knew she had made mistakes in the past, but she had never intentionally tried to hurt anyone. And for him to accuse her of such malicious intentions felt like a low blow.

"Trust me, I don't need your threats to stay in line," she retorted, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm here to help my friend, not cause any trouble."

Lewis gave her a cold look before leaving the nursery. KiKi took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down before she did or said something that she would regret. She left the nursery and returned downstairs, uneasy about her encounter with Lewis. Returning to the kitchen, she spotted Rorie wiping off an unclothed Lyric in the sink. Rorie’s face lit up as soon as she saw KiKi.

"Thanks, sweetie," she said to her friend as KiKi handed her the new clothes.

KiKi nodded, returning Rorie's smile. "No problem, I'm just glad I could help." She glanced around the kitchen, noticing that it was a bit chaotic with dishes in the sink and food left out on the counter. "Do you want me to help clean up?"

Rorie shook her head. "No need, we have a maid who should be coming now, but thanks for offering." She turned her attention back to Lyric and gently dried him off before putting on his new onesie and shorts.

KiKi watched the exchange between mother and son, feeling a pang of envy in her heart. She had always dreamed of having a child of her own one day, but with her career constantly taking priority, she wasn't sure if that would ever happen.

As if sensing her thoughts, Rorie looked up at KiKi and gave her a sympathetic smile. "You'll find someone who loves you enough to start a family with," she said softly.

KiKi managed a small smile in return. She wasn't ready to open up about her struggles with relationships yet, especially since Rorie already had a lot going on. "Thanks, girl."

Two days later, the Crypto.com Arena buzzed with anticipation as the Lakers faced off against the Warriors in a preseason matchup. Rorie settled into her courtside seat next to Hailey Bieber, both women drawing appreciative glances from nearby fans.

"God, I needed this," Rorie sighed, sinking into the plush seat. "A night out without any mama duties."

Hailey grinned, nudging her friend playfully. "And how's that test situation going?"

Rorie groaned, rolling her eyes. "Not you too. I swear, between Lewis and KiKi, I'm about ready to scream."

"Hey, no judgment here," Hailey said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "But you know we're all rooting for you, right?" Hailey squeezed her friend's hand supportively.

Rorie groaned. "I know I should take that test, but… I don't know. Part of me is scared to know for sure."

"Because of how hard it was before Lyric?" Hailey guessed.

Rorie nodded. "Yeah. And I've been feeling off lately, but it could be anything, you know? Stress, my crazy schedule, whatever. I guess I'm in denial."

The roar of the crowd swelled as LeBron executed a flawless alley-oop, momentarily drowning out their conversation. Rorie found herself swept up in the excitement, her worries fading to the background as she cheered along with the rest of the arena.

As the game progressed, Rorie's phone buzzed insistently in her purse. She ignored it, determined to enjoy this rare night of freedom. But a nagging voice in the back of her mind wondered if it might be Nina, calling about Lyric.

During a timeout, Hailey leaned in close, her voice low. "So, what's the latest with that lawsuit against The Sun? Justin mentioned you guys were dealing with some heavy stuff."

Rorie's brow furrowed, a familiar unease settling in her stomach. "It's a mess, girl. They're digging into my past now, threatening to publish stuff about my biological father. As if I give a damn about that deadbeat."

"That's awful," Hailey sympathized. "How are you holding up?"

Rorie shrugged, her eyes fixed on the court. "I'm managing. It's just… exhausting, you know? And with everything else going on…"

She trailed off as the timeout ended, the thunderous applause once again filling the arena. Rorie's gaze drifted to the jumbotron, where she caught sight of herself and Hailey on the celebrity cam. They both laughed, striking exaggerated poses for the camera.

As the game entered its final quarter, Rorie found her mind wandering. The constant scrutiny of her personal life, the pressure of her career, the looming possibility of another child – it all swirled together in a dizzying whirlpool of emotion.

"Earth to Rorie," Hailey's voice cut through her reverie. "You good?"

Rorie said nothing, her silence speaking volumes.

Hailey raised an eyebrow, clearly concerned. "Okay, spill. What's really going on?"

Rorie hesitated, then sighed. "It's just… everything. The lawsuit, the baby stuff, and now KiKi's been acting weird. I don't know, maybe I'm just paranoid."

"Weird how?" Hailey pressed gently.

"I overheard her on the phone the other day, sounding all secretive. And Lewis swears something's up with her." Rorie shook her head. "I want to believe she'd never do anything to hurt us, but…"

The final buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the preseason game. As they stood to leave, Rorie's phone buzzed again. This time, she fished it out, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Yael's name on the screen.

"Everything okay?" Hailey asked, concern evident in her voice.

Rorie hesitated, then shook her head. "It's fine. Just some work stuff. Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow."

As they made their way through the throng of departing fans, Rorie couldn't shake the feeling that something was brewing on the horizon. Whether it was the potential pregnancy, KiKi's strange behavior, or this latest message from Yael, she couldn't be sure. But one thing was certain – the calm before the storm was coming to an end.

"Hey," Hailey said softly, linking her arm through Rorie's. "Whatever's going on, you know you've got us, right? Me, Justin, your whole crew – we've got your back."

Rorie managed a genuine smile, feeling a rush of gratitude for her friend. "I know. Thanks, babe."

____________________________________________________

As Rorie drove home, her mind drifted to her upcoming show with Lil Yachty. She dialed his number, a smile spreading across her face as he picked up.

"Lil' Boat!" she exclaimed cheerfully.

Yachty's laughter filled the car. "Hey there, Ror-Ror! How's my sis?"

They chatted animatedly about their upcoming performance, bouncing ideas off each other and sharing their excitement. When Rorie turned onto her street, however, her good mood evaporated. A swarm of paparazzi clogged the road, their cameras flashing incessantly.

At first, she assumed they were there for one of her celebrity neighbors. But as she inched closer to her house, her stomach dropped. The mob was camped out in front of her own property.

"Oh hell no!" she shouted, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"What's the matter?" Yachty's concerned voice came through the speakers.

"I'll call you back," Rorie said tersely, ending the call.

Police officers were struggling to keep the paparazzi at bay. As soon as they spotted Rorie's car, the crowd surged forward, shouting questions and snapping photos.

"Rorie! How do you feel about The Sun's article on your mother's affair?" "Did you know about your father before this?" "What's your reaction to your father wanting a relationship?"

The cacophony was overwhelming. Rorie kept her eyes straight ahead as the police cleared a path for her to reach her garage. She parked quickly and practically ran into the house, her heart pounding.

She found Yael, Penni, and Lewis deep in conversation in the living room. They all looked up as she entered, their faces grim.

"What's going on?" Rorie demanded, her voice shaky.

Yael stepped forward. "Did you see my texts?"

"No," Rorie replied, looking to Lewis. "What's happening?"

Lewis sighed heavily before speaking. "The Sun published an article about your biological father."

Rorie shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "So what? I don't care if they know who he is. He was never part of my life anyway."

The others exchanged uneasy glances, which didn't escape Rorie's notice.

"What?" she pressed. "Why is it such a big deal?"

Lewis took a deep breath. "Your biological father… he did an interview with Piers Morgan. He's claiming your mother kept you away from him, and now he wants a relationship with you."

"That's bullshit!" Rorie exploded.

Yael jumped in. "That might be true, but the public doesn't know that. Worse, his wife was in the interview too. She said they were separated when he had the affair with your mom, and now she wants to meet you and Lyric. They're portraying themselves as victims and… well, they're putting all the blame on your mother."

Rorie felt like she'd been punched in the gut. "Has anyone talked to my mom?"

"We all have," Lewis said softly. "I just got off the phone with her before you arrived."

Rorie reached for her phone. "I need to call her."

Yael and Penni stepped forward, gently restraining her. "Wait," Penni said. "We're putting together a statement with evidence to counter their claims."

"We're also preparing another cease and desist letter for The Sun," Yael added. "And we're working on getting a gag order for your father and his family."

"My father," Rorie spat the word like it was poison, laughing bitterly. "And now he wants to play daddy? After all these years?"

Deemed the Black Bill Gates, Martin Edwards III is a real estate magnate and investor who cared only for himself. He never loved her mother - she was just a poor maid who got caught up in his web of lies. Of course, her mother should've never gotten involved with a married man, but Martin failed to claim Rorie as one of his children. He even had the gall to demand her mother get an abortion.

The room fell silent, the weight of the situation hanging heavily in the air. Rorie felt a mix of anger, confusion, and hurt swirling inside her. She'd spent her whole life not caring about her poor excuse of a sperm donor, and now he was threatening to upend everything.

"What do we do now?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain.

Lewis wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "We fight back, babe. We protect our family and we tell our truth. That's all we can do."

Rorie nodded against his chest, drawing strength from his embrace. Whatever storm was coming, she knew she had her real family – the ones who'd always been there – by her side. And that, she realized, was worth more than any long-lost father's claims could ever be.

The oppressive Texas heat shimmered off the tarmac as Lewis Hamilton's sleek Mercedes-AMG pulled into the Circuit of the Americas. The sprawling track, with its iconic observation tower in the distance, buzzed with the frenetic energy of Formula 1 media day. Pit crews scurried about, the air filled with the cacophony of revving engines and the chatter of eager fans and journalists.

Lewis took a deep breath, steeling himself for the day ahead. He glanced in the rearview mirror, catching sight of Lyric's cherubic face in the car seat behind him. The toddler was blissfully unaware of the chaos around their family, his tiny fingers playing with a toy race car.

As Lewis opened the car door, the wall of heat hit him in full force. He rounded the vehicle, opening the back door to unbuckle Lyric from his car seat. "Come on, little man," he murmured, lifting his son and perching him securely on his hip. Lewis hiked the diaper bag higher on his other shoulder, adjusting his designer sunglasses as he surveyed the paddock area.

His bodyguard moved ahead, creating a path through the throng of people. "Some space, please," the guard requested firmly but politely. Fans pressed forward, waving items for autographs, while photographers' cameras clicked in rapid succession.

Lewis approached the paddock entrance, shifting Lyric slightly to free up a hand. He fished out his ID card, swiping it through the turnstile with practiced ease. The familiar beep and click signaled his official arrival for the day.

As he made his way through the paddock to the Mercedes garage, Lewis nodded to his crew members, his mind racing with thoughts of Rorie. She'd been so sick lately – more than just the usual pre-performance jitters. The constant nausea, her heightened sense of smell, the fatigue that seemed to cling to her... All signs pointed to pregnancy, but Rorie steadfastly refused to take a test. Lewis understood her hesitation, remembering the heartache they'd endured before Lyric, but he couldn't help the glimmer of hope that sparked in his chest. The upcoming Austin City Limits festival loomed large in his mind. Despite everything, Rorie was still determined to perform. He felt a surge of pride thinking about her resilience, her talent; and wanted nothing more than to see her conquer the world stage, to watch her dreams unfold even as they navigated this storm together.

His phone buzzed with a notification - the flowers he'd sent to Rorie's mother had been delivered. A small gesture, but one he hoped would bring some comfort. The media circus surrounding Rorie's biological father had been relentless. He'd done everything he could to shield his family – hiring additional security, considering legal action against some of the more aggressive paparazzi, and even arranging for Rorie's mother, stepfather, and sister to be relocated temporarily to their home in Denver.

Lewis's jaw set with determination. The Sun's underhanded tactics, and the sudden appearance of Rorie's biological father - it all fueled a fire within him. He was committed to bringing down the tabloid, to make them pay for the pain they'd caused his family. The lawsuit proceedings were set to begin next month, and Lewis was ready for battle. The support from their friends had been overwhelming. Just that morning, he'd received messages of encouragement from the Biebers, Beyoncé and Jay-Z, and Rihanna. Their united front against the media onslaught was a testament to the bonds they'd forged over the years.

Lewis spotted Nina, their nanny, making her way through the garage. He felt a mix of relief and reluctance as he prepared to hand Lyric over. Part of him wanted to keep his son close, a tangible reminder of what truly mattered amidst the craziness of race day and ongoing personal drama.

"Lewis," Rosa approached. "The press conference is in ten minutes."

Lewis nodded, giving Lyric a final squeeze before passing him to Nina. "Be good for Nina, okay?" he murmured, pressing a kiss to his son's forehead.

Lewis made his way towards the press conference area, his mind racing with thoughts of Rorie and the impending media onslaught. He knew the questions wouldn't just be about the upcoming race or his strategies for the circuit. The recent revelations about Rorie's biological father had become fodder for gossip columns and social media speculation.

As he walked, he nodded to a few fellow drivers - Valterri gave him a supportive pat on the back, while Charles offered a quiet "All's good?" Lewis appreciated their discretion and support, a stark contrast to the rabid curiosity of the waiting press.

_____________________________________________

Once the press conference was finished, which thankfully focused more on the upcoming race than personal matters, Lewis found himself surrounded by his fellow drivers.

"Hey, Lewis," Pierre called out, a grin on his face. "Is it true Rorie's performing at Austin City Limits tonight?"

Lewis nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "Yeah, she is. You guys planning to come?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Pierre replied enthusiastically. Several other drivers chimed in with their interest as well.

Lewis spent the next hour with Lyric, cherishing the quiet moments with his son, and when he was about to head to get lunch, Toto approached.

"Lewis, can you come to my office for a moment?" Toto's expression was unreadable.

Handing Lyric back to Nina and Rosa, Lewis followed Toto, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. As they entered the office, Lewis froze. Sitting there, looking far too comfortable, was Martin Edwards - Rorie's biological father.

Lewis's jaw clenched. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

Toto held up his hands. "He requested to speak with you. I thought it best to provide a neutral and private space."

Reluctantly, Lewis took a seat across from Martin, his posture rigid.

Martin leaned forward, a smile plastered on his face. "That boy of yours, Lyric - he's the spitting image of you. That's really your seed. Can't deny that baby even if you wanted to," he chuckled as if he'd said something hilarious.

Lewis remained stoic, his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. "What do you want, Martin? Haven't you fucked up enough?"

Martin's smile faded slightly. "I want to make things right. I've missed out on so much of Aurora's life—"

"Rorie," Lewis corrected sharply. "She goes by Rorie."

Martin nodded, continuing, "Rorie, then. I want to be a part of her life, of my grandson's life."

Lewis's voice was low and controlled. "You had years to be a part of Rorie's life. You chose not to be. And now, what? You think you can just waltz in because it's convenient for you?"

"I made mistakes," Martin admitted. "But I want to fix them. Surely you can understand that, as a father yourself?"

Lewis felt a surge of anger. "As a father, I understand being there for your child, no matter what. Something you know nothing about."

The tension in the room was palpable. Toto shifted uncomfortably, clearly regretting his decision to facilitate this meeting.

"Look," Martin said, his tone changing to one of barely concealed frustration, "I have rights. I'm her father—"

"No," Lewis cut him off, standing up. "You're the man who contributed DNA. I'm her family. We're her family. And we'll do whatever it takes to protect her and Lyric from this circus you've created."

With that, Lewis turned to leave. As he reached the door, he paused, looking back at Martin. "If you really care about Rorie, you'll respect her wishes. And right now, she doesn't want anything to do with you."

Leaving Martin and a stunned Toto behind, Lewis strode out of the office, his mind already racing with plans to further shield his family from whatever Martin Edwards seemed determined to bring.

That motherfucker had another thing coming if he thought he was getting close to my family. Nigga going to end up meeting nothing more than the barrel of my gun if he keeps fucking around.

For the rest of the day, Lewis shifted his focus away from what occurred in Toto's office, ultimately deciding against mentioning the impromptu meeting with Martin. Rorie was already stressed for a myriad of reasons, and Lewis would be damned if he brought more bad news to her. His wife needed to focus on her performance - nothing more, nothing less. He'd handle everything else.

That was what a husband and father did - properly lead his family and protect them, which wasn't something Martin knew anything about. An intrusive thought wondered how Martin could just weasel his way into speaking with Toto and demanding a meeting with him, but then Lewis remembered how having obscene amounts of money could always provide access to certain people.

His phone rang and Rorie's smiling face lit up the screen.

"Hey, babe," he answered.

"Hey," Rorie replied. There was a pause before she continued, "Is everything okay? You sound... off."

Lewis hesitated for a moment before responding, "Just race stuff, you know how it is. Nothing to worry about."

"Mm-hmm," Rorie hummed, not entirely convinced. "Can you bring home something sweet and salty when you're done?"

Lewis let out a laugh, the tension from earlier melting away.

"What's so funny?" Rorie asked, a hint of defensiveness in her voice.

"Nothing, nothing," Lewis chuckled. "It's just... the last time you asked for this exact combination, you were pregnant with Lyric. Still in denial, are we?"

Rorie huffed. "I just want that, okay? Don't make it a big deal."

"Alright, alright," Lewis conceded, grinning. "I'll bring something back for you. And you know what? I'll grab a pregnancy test too, so we can stop fucking around and know for sure."

"Whatever," Rorie grumbled, but Lewis could hear the smile in her voice.

"Love you too, babe," Lewis said, his tone softening. "I'll see you soon."

As the call ended, Lewis pocketed his phone, a mix of emotions swirling within him. The day's events - from the press conference to the unexpected encounter with Martin - seemed to fade into the background. What mattered now was Rorie, their family, and the possibilities that lay ahead.

Lewis glanced at his watch, mentally calculating how long it would take to wrap up his duties at the track, find Rorie's requested snacks, and make it back to the hotel. He had a pregnant wife to take care of - whether she was ready to admit it or not.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over Zilker Park, Rorie stood backstage at Austin City Limits, her heart racing. The air was thick with anticipation, the distant roar of the crowd washing over her like waves. Lil Yachty's energetic performance was coming to a close, his last song echoing through the night.

Rorie closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to calm her churning stomach. She'd barely kept down her dinner, a combination of nerves and what she stubbornly refused to acknowledge might be morning sickness. The thought of pregnancy flitted through her mind again, reminding her that she had a test to take after the show, but she pushed it aside.

Focus, she told herself. The show comes first.

She silently thanked the universe for the unwavering support of her husband, friends, and family. Their love had been her anchor in the stormy seas of recent events.

The crowd's cheers swelled as Lil Yachty addressed them, his voice booming through the speakers. "Y'all ready for something special?" The response was deafening. "DJ, hit it!"

The opening beats of "The Zone" began to pulse through the air. Lil Yachty started his verse, the crowd singing along. Then, he paused, his voice filled with excitement. "Now, give a warm Austin welcome to the one, the only… Rorie!"

Taking a final deep breath, Rorie stepped out from behind the curtain. The sea of faces before her erupted in screams and applause. The energy was electric, palpable.

As she began to sing, her rich voice filling the night air, Rorie's eyes scanned the crowd. In the VIP section, she immediately spotted Lewis, his proud smile visible even from a distance. Beside him were Yael, Pierre, Charles, Valtteri, and Susie, all cheering her on.

"I never meant to make you feel alone," she sang, her voice carrying emotion with every word. "A non-chivalrous tone you've used since I got home. I feel wrong, deep down inside, I'm stoned. I feel cold and alone."

The lyrics seemed to take on a new meaning, reflecting the turmoil of recent weeks. But as she continued, Rorie felt a surge of strength.

"But now I know that you love me (Love me). Will you put anyone above me? Let me know, is this home?"

As she sang the last line, her eyes locked with Lewis's. In that moment, despite the thousands of people surrounding them, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. This was home, she realized. Not a place, but the people who stood by her through everything.

The music swelled, and Rorie threw herself fully into the performance, letting the rhythm and the energy of the crowd wash away her worries, if only for this magical moment under the Austin stars.

As the last notes of "The Zone" faded, the crowd's enthusiasm remained at fever pitch. Lil Yachty engaged with the audience, asking if they wanted to hear more. The resounding cheers and screams made the answer clear.

Rorie glanced back at the VIP section, catching Lewis's eye as he recorded the entire performance on his phone. The crowd began chanting her name, the sound washing over her in waves of adoration and support. Overwhelmed with emotion, Rorie felt tears prick at her eyes.

"You hearing this, Ror? They love you!" he shouted over the noise.

Rorie nodded, visibly moved. "This is incredible," she managed to say.

Lil Yachty addressed the audience. "Y'all want more from Rorie?" The answering roar was deafening. "Alright, alright!" Lil Yachty laughed. "Let's give them what they want, big sis!"

The opening chords of "Running Out of Time" began to play, eliciting another round of cheers from the audience. Rorie and Lil Yachty's voices blended beautifully, the lyrics touching on themes of time, connection, and staying together. The audience swayed and sang along, clearly familiar with the song.

When the performance ended, Rorie took a deep bow, her heart pounding with adrenaline and emotion. She lingered for a moment offstage, basking in the continued chants of her name from the adoring crowd.

Later, as she relaxed with Lewis and their group, enjoying the rest of the festival, everyone showered her with hugs and praise.

"That was incredible, Rorie!" Pierre exclaimed, giving her a warm hug.

Lewis pulled her close, kissing her with an intensity that made their friends playfully protest.

"Get a room, you two!" Charles laughed, shaking his head.

Lewis grinned, his eyes never leaving Rorie's face. "I'm just incredibly proud of my wife," he said, his voice full of love and admiration.

As the night wound down, Lewis and Rorie found themselves in the back of a car, heading back to their hotel. Lewis's hand rested on Rorie's thigh, his brown eyes fixed on her face.

"What?" Rorie asked, noticing his intense gaze. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Because I love you, baby," Lewis replied softly. "I love you so much."

Rorie smiled, her heart swelling. "I love you too, Pookie."

Lewis leaned in closer, his voice low. "And knowing that you might be carrying another seed…fuck Rorie, you don't even know what's in store when we get back."

Rorie giggled at his enthusiasm. He could be such a dirty freak at times. "Lewis, we don't know if I'm—"

"You are," he interrupted gently. "I can smell it."

"Oh? And what does that smell like, Lewis?"

His eyes sparkled with mischief and love. "Smells like a woman strengthening my bloodline."

"Goodness, you sound like such a caveman," she teased, but his words only heightened her arousal.

"But you like that shit," he murmured, pulling her closer for a deep, loving kiss.

And do.

Lewis wasted no time in carrying Rorie inside the bedroom once they arrived at their hotel. He set her down on the bed and began undressing her slowly, taking in every inch of her body.

His lips trailed down her neck and onto her chest, Rorie let out a soft moan and arched into him, craving more of his touch. He knew every sensitive spot on her body, and it drove her wild with desire. Lewis moved lower, planting kisses on her stomach until he reached the apex of her thighs. His hands firmly held onto her hips as he teased her with delicate licks and flicks of his tongue.

Rorie's breath hitched as she felt herself becoming wetter with each passing moment. She reached down to tangle her fingers in Lewis's braids, urging him on. "Oooh baby, don't stop."

With a wicked gleam in his eye, Lewis obliged and began sucking on Rorie's clit, sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. Her moans grew louder as she neared climax, and she couldn't hold back any longer.

"Fuck!" Lewis’s tongue soon brought Rorie to an explosive orgasm that left her panting and trembling beneath him.

"Mmm, you taste so good," he murmured.

Rorie came down from her high, and Lewis crawled up her body to kiss her deeply. She could taste herself on his lips, and it only turned her on even more.

"I want you inside me," she whispered against his lips.

Lewis groaned and quickly positioned himself between her legs. Rorie wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he slid into her in one smooth thrust.

They moved together in perfect rhythm. It wasn't just about the physical pleasure for them; it was about the deep connection they shared. With each movement, they were both expressing their love and desire for each other.

Rorie ran her hands over Lewis's back, feeling the muscles flex beneath her touch. She loved how strong and powerful he was, yet how gentle and attentive he could be with her.

Their lovemaking became more intense as they both approached their release. Rorie cried out Lewis's name as she came once again, and he followed soon after with a deep grunt of satisfaction.

They collapsed onto the bed in a tangled mess of limbs and sweaty skin. Lewis rolled onto his side to face Rorie, pulling her close to him. As they cuddled in each other's arms, Rorie couldn't help but think about the possibility of being pregnant again. She knew Lewis would be overjoyed at the news, but she couldn't shake off the slight fear and anxiety that crept into her mind.

"Are you okay?" Lewis asked softly, sensing something was bothering her.

"I…I'm just thinking about what might happen if I am pregnant," Rorie admitted hesitantly.

Lewis's expression softened as he cupped her face in his hands. "Hey, whatever happens, we'll handle it together. We've been through so much already and have come out stronger."

Rorie's heart swelled with love for this man who always knew exactly what to say to comfort her. "I know…I just don't want to disappoint you if I'm not pregnant."

Lewis shook his head and pressed a gentle kiss on Rorie's forehead. "You could never disappoint me, baby. Our love is so much more than having another child."

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, feeling grateful for their love. "We should just take the test," she said firmly.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, let's just get it over with." Rorie stood up abruptly and walked to the bathroom. The pregnancy test was sitting on the counter, and with trembling hands, she unwrapped it and followed the instructions carefully.

She then nervously paced around the bathroom as Lewis watched intently, waiting anxiously for the results. As the timer beeped, Rorie's heart raced in anticipation. She closed her eyes and prayed for a positive result.

Slowly opening her eyes, she looked down at the test and saw two distinct lines. A wave of emotions washed over her as she realized that she was indeed pregnant.

Tears of joy streamed down Rorie's face as she stepped out of the bathroom to show Lewis. He immediately wrapped her in his arms, knowing without words what the result was.

"We're going to have another baby," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and happiness.

Rorie nodded, unable to speak through her tears. They held each other in silence for a few moments before Lewis pulled back to look at Rorie's face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, wiping away her tears with his thumb.

"I'm just so happy," she managed to say before kissing him passionately.

The California sun hung low in the sky as the woman drove toward a discreet restaurant nestled off the Malibu coast. The sleek, modern lines of the Hamilton's mansion were barely visible from the road, obscured by sprawling trees and winding driveways. The ocean’s rhythmic crash played in the background, but all that resonated in the woman’s mind was the bitter truth she clutched like a weapon.

The restaurant’s parking lot was mostly empty, save for a lone car parked in a shadowed corner. The woman’s heeled boots crunched over loose gravel as she approached. The maid, nondescript and dressed in plain clothes, glanced up from where she leaned against the car’s door. Her eyes were wary, darting around as though expecting to see someone lurking.

"You’re late," the maid muttered, shifting nervously.

"Traffic," the woman replied, dismissively. "Do you have what I need?"

The maid hesitated before producing a small USB drive. She handed it over with trembling fingers. "I can’t be seen doing this. If Rorie finds out…"

"She won’t," the woman interjected sharply. "You just keep your head down and play your role. If she suspects anything, you’re done. But right now, I’m your best bet for protection."

The maid swallowed hard, clearly torn. "Why are you even doing this? Rorie has been good to me...she treats my kids like her own."

The woman’s expression darkened. "You think kindness and loyalty matter to people like her? She uses them as currency to keep you close until you’re no longer valuable. Believe me, I know better than anyone. And if you want any fucking help getting your husband to Los Angeles, you shut your goddamn mouth, okay?"

Silence fell between them as the reality of their situation settled in. Eventually, the maid nodded, wiping her palms nervously against her jeans. "Okay, but be careful. This game you’re playing—people get hurt."

The woman tucked the USB into her jacket pocket and turned on her heel. "People always get hurt. It’s just a question of who gets hurt first."

As she walked away, the wind picked up, rustling through the palm trees and carrying the distant hum of approaching cars. The maid stayed put, watching the woman disappear into her car before driving off like a bat out of hell.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

#lewis hamilton #emjayewrites #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black oc #lewis hamilton x black reader #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #private landing #lewis hamilton x rorie hamilton

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year

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Practice On Me — Part Five — Azriel x Reader

Note: I feel like this part isn’t that great but as you may have seen, I had a family emergency and I got kind of distracted whilst trying to finish it. It was going to be even longer with even more drama, but I wanted to get an update out today and I wouldn’t have finished it in time, so I’ve cut it short (on a cliffhanger, of course), and the next part will be out quicker as it’s already mostly written. You can look forward to more drama 😏 I hope you enjoy this part all the same! Also, I try to tag everyone who asks, but it won’t let me tag some of you, so please check your settings to make sure your blog is able to be tagged/searched for!

Summary: Reader is trying to carry on as normal, but a trip to a rival camp has tensions rising once more, and jealous Azriel makes a return. Trouble seems to follow our poor girl everywhere…

Word Count: 6.1k.

Warnings: A bit of violence.

This is all wrong.

The beautiful female hovers over Azriel, her lips slanting over his. Her mouth is commanding, entirely in control.

She smiles against him like she knows it.

She grabs Azriel’s hands, plants them on her waist. And she whispers in a voice that is so seductive, it almost seems impossible, “Touch me.”

So Az touches her. And it’s all wrong.

He can’t exactly place why it’s wrong. Just that there’s a panic unfurling inside of him that this is all happening too fast—

No, not too fast. It’s not that.

It’s who hovers over him that’s the problem. The realisation is nearly suffocating. Something has changed.

He doesn’t…doesn’t think he wants to be doing this here, right now, with Kaeda. It feels…off. He’s not comfortable, not at ease, like he’s always been with—

The door bursts open, and it’s a relief when Kaeda tears her mouth away from his.

The relief instantaneously disappears as he turns his head, drinks in who stands at the threshold. His stomach lurches.

Y/N looks as if she’s about to keel over on the spot. She trembles so violently that she can’t seem to keep her body still. Her tunic and breeches and shoes are sodden, as though she traipsed all the way here, through the snow, with nothing shielding her from the cold. Her hair sticks to her face, and there’s blood — blood streaking down her chin.

Azriel goes cold. Something has happened.

But Y/N seems oblivious to the blood as she stares, wide-and-watery-eyed, between Azriel and Kaeda.

And Az thinks…fuck. Fuck, fuck, a thousand times, fuck.

His head is reeling, roaring.

And then Kaeda says, “The shop hand from the forge,” and Azriel doesn’t like her tone; like being a shop hand is something shameful. She adds, “What happened to your face?”

Az is wondering the same fucking thing. It’s then that be remembers how to move, and he’s wrenching up and scooting out from beneath Kaeda, and his voice is quiet, soft, as he murmurs, “Y/N…”

He wants to go to her, fuss over her, but she’s gripping the door handle and shaking her head in a way that stops him from doing so.

“Sorry for interrupting.” She chokes out. In a flash, the door is yanked shut, and she’s gone.

All Azriel can think is no. Something prickles at his skin. He forgets there’s someone else in the room with him.

“Do you know her?” Kaeda’s voice jolts him.

“She’s my—friend.” The word sounds strange in his voice, tastes funny on his tongue. It tastes…sour.

“You think she got into a fight, or something?”

“No, that’s not—” He stops himself from revealing too much. Presses his back into the pillows. “No. I’m not sure what happened, but…no.”

Kaeda seems to think on that for a mere second or two. And then she shrugs. “How strange.”

Before Azriel can reply, she’s climbing into his lap, legs either side of his. She grabs his hands, planting them on her hips. Her soft hair tickles his cheek as she leans down, and she smells pleasant. Sweet and powdery.

“Where were we?” She murmurs, and then she kisses him again.

There is no excitement in this. There should be something thrilling about the way her lips attack his hungrily, and the way she’s stroking her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, and the way she rocks on top of him. Az may lack experience, but he doesn’t lack knowledge, basic common sense.

His cock should be hardening in his breeches by now. But all he feels is…panic.

He’s too concerned about Y/N to focus.

He rips his mouth away, panting, “I can’t.”

Kaeda blinks down at him. “What?”

“I’m sorry, I just — I need to find Y/N. I need to check she’s alright.”

The female studies him, reading his face.

And then her expression softens. She nods. “Of course, Azriel. I’m sorry. You should go find her.”

Kaeda is nice — he’s thought so since the moment he met her, when she took a late night trip to one of the training rings a good few months ago, and Az had had the same idea. She’s one of those personable people who can get along with anyone — who could coax conversation out of a lump of snow. People light up around her, and they laugh, and she makes everyone she talks to feel special.

So of course she has no problem with Az skipping out on her. It thaws his heart a little. The panic is still there, though.

“I’m sorry.” He stands from the bed, a twinge of guilt biting at him for just…leaving her here. “I’ll check on her and make sure she’s okay. I’ll come back after.”

Kaeda smiles at him brilliantly. “Go on. She needs you.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement than that. Later on, he might regret how quickly he darts from the room, as if it’s on fire. But right now, all he thinks of is Y/N.

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You end up at the cottage. You’re not sure why. Nor how — you have no recollection of the walk there.

The pain of an aching heart blocks out the cold, at least.

You need…you don’t know what you need.

It feels as though you’re standing still as the world moves too fast around you.

You numbly walk through the front door, forgetting to kick the snow from your shoes. And you stop at the sight of Cassian in the kitchen, stood alone at the counter, his back to you. Your mind can’t register that he’s here, when you expected him to be at the centre of the Solstice festivities, drinking the night away and finding someone to fall into bed with by the end of it.

He turns, unperturbed by your abrupt arrival. “Sandwich break.” He chirps, and then his eyes land on you. The sandwich slips from his hands. “What the fuck?”

You open and close your mouth, not even sure what might come out. There’s a disconnect somewhere. Nothing’s working right.

You just hope it isn’t Azriel’s name that slips past your lips. You don’t want to have to explain your complicated feelings where he’s concerned.

“My father.” You eventually rasp. “He…”

You don’t need to finish the sentence. Cassian knows. He always knows.

He comes striding over to you and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. And you feel a little deceitful that the tears that immediately begin to fall have nothing to do with what went down with your father. But what’s one more negative emotion to add to the growing pile? You sink into the embrace, accept it greedily. Cassian’s hugs will one day feature in legendary tales, you’re sure.

“I told Az I had a bad feeling about tonight.” He says, pulling back to study you. A rare fury flames his gaze, turning him instantly into the feared opponent that so many other males simply refuse to fight. He clenches his jaw, features harsh for once. “Gods, I just want to go straight to your father’s house and—”

“No.” You quickly cut him off. “Not tonight. Please. I can’t take any more tonight.”

Cass can be stubborn and driven by emotion and he’s damn well attracted to fights like a moth to a flame. But he’s also a fiercely loyal friend who will listen to what you need and act accordingly.

Which is why he gently takes your face in his huge, warm hands, inspects your split lip, and says, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You could kiss him for that, alone.

Maybe you should.

No, you’re not thinking straight.

You don’t want to think at all, as you allow yourself to be seated on the couch, and Cass begins rummaging for whatever scant medical supplies Rhysand’s mother keeps in the cottage. Years under your father’s thumb means that you’ve got the art of emptying your mind to an almost frightening level of perfection. Perhaps an unhealthy coping mechanism, but a necessary one. You force your head to go quiet, to empty.

But then Cassian is perching himself in front of you, a gentle smile on his face.

“I’m totally making this up as I go along.” He admits. “I’ll make it as painless as I can.”

A bizarre thought strikes you that you actually want this to hurt.

You’re not sure what to make of that one.

Luckily for you, you can’t exactly provide much conversation with Cass cleaning the wound on your lip. It’s nice not to have to think beyond the vague hums you give in response to his occasional comments.

But before long, he’s rubbing a salve into the cut — and apologising as you hiss at the sting — and then he tells you, “All done. The bleeding has stopped.”

Your attempt at a smile is more of a grimace. “Thank you.”

The silence in the room is odd. Pressing. Even in the most testing of times, Cassian is known for trying to inject some humour into the situation — he’s a master at easing tension. But he stares at you in a way that strips you bare.

And then he asks, “What happened tonight?”

You frown at the question, not entirely sure how to answer. You know he’s asking in regard to the wound, wanting to know exactly how you got it, but your thoughts are aimed — uncontrollably — in a singular direction, and if you open your mouth, you’re not at all sure that Azriel’s name won’t just roll off your tongue.

“Y/N?” Cassian presses.

“I…” You swallow. It’s a good start. “I think I might be homeless.”

Not exactly an answer. But it seems that’s enough for Cass.

He shifts his position so that he’s able to fold you into his side. He guides your head to his chest, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“No, you’re not. You have this place.” He murmurs. “You’ll always have this place. Or you could move into my room at the dormitories, if you’d like. I’ll even clean it for you.”

That drags a weak, rasping laugh from the depths of your aching chest. “You really are a catch, Cass.”

“Oh, I know. But I’ll clean my room for no other female but you.”

Would that change, you wonder, if he met Kaeda, saw how beautiful she was? He may not have had the pleasure of an introduction yet, but you’re sure that Azriel must have shared at least some information with him and Rhys. They probably know more than you do.

Your curiosity piques, and before you can stop yourself, you’re speaking. “Cass?”

“Yes, sweetpea?”

You should totally backtrack, blurt out something pointless and irrelevant—

“What do you know of Kaeda?”

Or maybe not.

There’s a short pause as Cass seems to mull the question over, his fingers beginning to absentmindedly rake through your hair.

“Not much.” He eventually admits. “Her family aren’t from this camp. Her father is Lord of Camp Fenlaros. I think they’re a wealthy family, highly respected. I don’t know any more than that.”

Which explains why you’d never seen her until the day she’d walked into the forge. You’d certainly remember meeting her before. The Fenlaros Camp sits at the other side of Illyria — the furthest one from Windhaven.

“You don’t need to worry, though.” Cass then says, and you stiffen, wondering if your silence has somehow exposed you. “Az has a good head on his shoulders. He knows what he’s doing.”

Yes, you want to say, because I fucking taught him.

But before you can muster a reasonable response, the door is bursting open.

Azriel strides in, damp hair sticking to cold-bitten cheeks and his chest heaving. His eyes drink in yours and Cassian’s current position, before zeroing in on your face.

“I’ve been looking for you.” He pants.

You stare back at him, and you hate that you feel…angry. You have no right to feel that way. What has Az done, besides what he always intended to do? Exploring your affections was only ever supposed to be a practice run. If he feels ready for the real thing, you should be excited for him.

But quite simply, you’re not.

“Why?” The word comes out too brusque, too harsh. You correct yourself, clearing your throat. “I mean—what for?”

A pause. “I was worried.”

“I got her all cleaned up.” Cass jumps to his feet, gathering the healing supplies in his hands. “It’s not as bad as it looks, thankfully.”

Azriel’s eyes don’t leave your face. “Your father?”

You lower your eyes to your hands, your fingernails of sudden interest to you. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

And you don’t. But as the words leave your mouth, you know you’re not referring to your father’s behaviour. And you think that somehow, Az knows, too.

He stares at you in silence, still breathing a little heavily. And as that silence becomes thick, almost uncomfortable, Cass catches on to it.

He pauses his movements in the kitchen, staring between you and Azriel. It becomes suddenly clear to him that there’s an elephant in the room, and both of you are refusing to glance at it.

You really, really don’t want him to leave you alone with Az right now. You need time to gather your thoughts and feelings and know what you’re not going to say—

“…Anyway…” He clears his throat loudly. “I’m going to head back to the dormitories while the night is still young.” He swivels towards you. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’ve got her.” Az answers before you can. “We’ll be fine here. Go have fun, Cass.”

And, well, Cassian doesn’t need telling twice. So typically of him, he finally scoops his dropped sandwich off the kitchen floor, blows on it, and eats half of it in one bite.

“Happy Solstice, fuckers.” He says around a mouthful of bread. “Come back to the party when you’re finished here.”

You have no plans of doing that. All you want is to climb into bed and cry. But you know there’s no getting out of whatever is about to follow.

“Thanks, Cass.” You murmur quietly, forcing a weak smile.

“Anything for you, sweetpea.”

With the remainder of his sandwich still in hand, his tall frame ducks out of the cottage. The closing of the door is a death knell.

Az stares at you. And then he’s rounding the couch, stopping just inches away.

For the first time in nine years, you’re not sure you can face him. There’s an oily feeling of…of humiliation, that coats you, and it may just worsen if you make eye contact.

“Are you alright?” He breaks the silence, his voice solemn, grave.

You nod. Twist your hands around each other just to give them something to do. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Thanks.”

“I don’t mean it like that. But your lip—”

“Cassian saw to it, Az.” Finally, you force yourself to make eye contact. And for his sake — or yours — or whatever — you push your mouth into a watery smile. It hurts your lip and it hurts your heart. “It’s really not that bad.”

There’s a momentary pause. Perhaps he’s not expecting you to be so calm in the wake of such an awful day. Little does he know, it’s all a front. Self-preservation.

You almost — almost — flinch, when he steps closer and perches himself on the coffee table in front of you.

“I should have been there.” He presses his lips into a thin line as he studies the wound up close. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t want to talk about this. You can’t talk about this. You may just die if you do. You just…need the night to end. To go away.

And just as Azriel reaches out to brush a finger over your hurt lip, you’ve decided you’ve had quite enough.

You jump up way too quickly for it to be casual, clearing your throat. “Where is Kaeda?”

“…She’s still at the dorms…”

“You shouldn’t have skipped out on her like that, Azriel. It’s rude.”

“I explained to her that you needed me. She understood—”

You whirl around to face him. You dread to think what he might have told her. “Go back to her, Az.”

Does he know you’re begging him, not telling him? You’re not sure.

He studies you like…like he doesn’t understand your demeanour. And then he says, “I will when I’m done here.”

A brusque laugh leaves you. “There’s nothing to be done here. Cassian already helped.”

You see the words hit him. Part of you feels like a wretch for throwing it in his face. He’s done nothing wrong. He owes you nothing.

This is on you for letting your feelings get out of hand. Your eyes shutter, and you draw in a slow, steeling breath.

“I’m very tired, and I just want to go to bed.” You explain quietly. “And I appreciate that you interrupted your night to come and check on me, I do, but there’s nothing that can be done for me. I just…need to sleep.”

Az stares at you again. Swallows. “Then I’ll stay until you fall asleep—”

“Az. Don’t keep Kaeda waiting.”

You can see how torn he is. You almost feel bad. He wants to do right by everyone.

But he can’t do right by you. Not tonight. It’s too late for that.

And maybe that realisation dawns on him, because finally, he pushes to his feet.

“You know where to find me if you need anything.”

You won’t. But you nod, all the same. “Yes.”

“Lock the door.”

“I will.”

He strides to the door. Pauses with his fingers on the handle, like he wants to say something else.

But then he leaves.

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The cold hurts so good. Every inhale burns your lungs. Your eyes water against the brisk air.

Pushing yourself hard like this, working against the elements, is precisely what you need. You’ve been up here every morning for the past week, putting your body through its paces before the sky has even lightened.

You’ve got avoiding Azriel as much as possible down to an art form, and when you’ve no choice but to face him, your act of breezing nonchalance, or normality, is so convincing that you almost fool yourself.

Almost.

It’s a routine, if not a strange one.

You pant heavily through the exertion, gazing up through the towering trees as you take a moment to catch your breath. It seems that the harder you push yourself, the more your muscles burn, the less your heart aches. The quiet and solitude has been a welcome companion in the days since—

Snow crunches under boots. You stiffen at the approaching footsteps.

If the males training below catch you doing your exercises up here again, they may do more than just chew you out.

But through the trees, Azriel’s unmistakable form emerges in a halo of early morning light. The nature around you seems to pause and bask in his presence, and you can’t blame it one bit.

Gods, he’s beautiful. Painfully so. Gut-wrenchingly so—

It’s for that reason that you snap your front into place; the one you’ve spent the past week perfecting. You will simply act as you always have — as you always did before that first night you offered Azriel your help — and maybe, hopefully, you’ll even start to believe it.

Maybe it will stop hurting.

“Thought I’d find you up here.” There’s an edge to his voice that makes you think he’s waiting to follow your lead. He smiles tentatively.

You smile widely and hope it’s convincing. “I’d much prefer having smoother terrain to work on, but beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.”

The rigidity of his shoulders ease. “How many times have you tripped over these rocks?”

“Oh, seven hundred, or so.”

He breathes a laugh, a little white cloud pluming in front of his face, and you do the same.

And it’s bad — it’s really bad — but your thoughts are immediately jumping to Kaeda and assuming her natural grace would hold its brilliance on smooth or rough terrain. There’d probably be no tripping, no falling.

You banish those images quickly.

Sometimes, you’re not sure whether you want to be her, or be in bed with her.

Azriel clears his throat, his face sobering. “Listen, I wanted to talk.”

Oh, gods.

Surely he’s not going to just…confront things, right here, right now, like a reasonable person. You’re not even slightly prepared for that. You claw at your mind in panic, searching for some way out of this besides tucking and rolling down the hill away from him—

“I have an invitation.” He says, and you pause. “Well — Kaeda does.”

Bizarre, that the first thought that hits you is a bleating, please don’t ask me to have a threesome.

You drag your mind straight back out of the gutter and will your face into neutrality. “Oh?”

“…Yeah…” Az rubs the back of his neck. “I know the two of you haven’t been properly introduced, but she’s throwing a party back in her home camp — Fenlaros — and she invited me and said I should bring some friends.”

For a moment or two, you simply don’t know what to say. Going into a rival camp is usually best avoided, given that Illyrian males will look for any excuse for a fight. You don’t know much, admittedly, about the Fenlaros Camp, but Illyrians are Illyrians, and that’s just a fact.

But it makes you question, for the first time, a thought that hadn’t so far occurred to you — why has Kaeda been hanging around Windhaven? You don’t even know the story of when she came here, or for what reason.

And that’s on you, you suppose, for wanting to know as little as possible.

“She doesn’t really know anyone here in Windhaven, besides me.” Az continues. “So she told me to bring you, Rhys and Cass along. I think she’s eager to get to know you.”

You’re silent as a thousand thoughts filter through your mind, one by one. So many things you suddenly want to ask, and yet what comes out is merely, “Fenlaros?”

Az nods. He seems to be studying your reaction closely.

“Is that a good idea? We’re not supposed to breach rival camps without express permission.”

“We have permission. Kaeda’s father is Lord of Fenlaros, and the party will be held at her dwellings. She tells me they’re a tad more civilised there than they are here.”

Hard to believe, of Illyrians. But who are you to talk? You’ve never ventured to another camp like she so boldly has.

You can’t exactly explain your hesitation, besides the obvious — subjecting yourself to being in the company of both Azriel and Kaeda seems unnecessarily cruel. But something else about it also just feels…odd. Just strolling into another camp as though that’s a done thing.

To Kaeda, you suppose it is.

“Look, you don’t have to come.” Az says, reading the caution on your face. “Rhys and Cass are eager — it’s our last chance to enjoy ourselves before training gets intense again. But I wouldn’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with—”

“I’ll come.” You blurt. “Of course, I’ll come.”

Even Az looks a little surprised. He studies you, giving you a moment to retract. And then he smiles. “Alright. Great.”

Maybe going to a party with your friends is exactly what you need — doing something normal, something you would have done without thought before you created this mess for yourself.

Perhaps the key to getting past this is to just…pretend it doesn’t hurt, until it no longer does.

And perhaps getting to know Kaeda, making a friend of her, will even help.

“Listen, I need to get back.” Az tells you, glancing over his shoulder. “We’ll discuss the details later.”

Before you can reply, he’s reaching out and pulling you into a tight hug. His scent envelopes you, soothes and pains you in equal measure. You close your eyes against his chest and find yourself hoping — really hoping — that this ache will go away soon. Azriel’s embraces have always been a place of solace. You don’t want that to have changed.

Just as quickly, he pulls away, dropping a kiss onto your forehead. “I’m really glad you’re coming, Y/N.” He says. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

You’re vaguely aware of the non-committal response you give him. Your mind is suddenly screaming at you.

And as he turns and walks away, you can’t help wondering what the fuck you’ve just got yourself into.

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It’s high up in the skies, two nights later, that the true regret begins to seep in.

Not just because the idea of this party makes anxiety coil tightly in your gut, like something in the air whispers to you that tonight will be a total shit show.

It’s the humiliation that hits you on the way there. An itchy kind of humiliation that you haven’t allowed yourself to feel for a very, very long time.

Not far in front of you, Cassian flies freely, the wind stirring his hair. He always wears the same expression while flying, one that’s a combination of elation, freedom and pride.

A small distance ahead of him, Azriel, too, is the picture of soaring grace. And at his side, Kaeda is the same. Her brilliant hair is like a streak of crimson blood that’s been smeared on the night landscape.

And you — you have to be carried by Rhysand. Like a youngling.

You stopped pitying yourself a long time ago for what your father did to you, the way he stole your ability to fly before you ever really had the chance. It was one of those things you had to come to terms with, because you’d never be able to change it.

That old feeling is returning with a vengeance, now, eating you up from the inside. Seeing Az be able to fly alongside a female, something you’d never be able to do—

“I’ve never been to the Fenlaros Camp.” Rhys speaks into your ear, ripping you out of your thoughts. From the way his fingers rub soothing circles into your hip, you know he didn’t miss your bleak expression.

You fix your gaze on the sprawling landscape below. Noises are drifting up to you, becoming louder. You must be close.

“Az says there’s nothing to be worried about.” You answer quietly. “But do you really think all will be well? It doesn’t take much for the three of you to find trouble when there’s alcohol in your system. If you land yourself in deep shit, you’ll be punished.”

His violet eyes sparkle with mischief. “I’m the High Lord’s son — their future High Lord. Everyone is too scared shitless to punish me.”

That’s not entirely true, and he knows it. You shoot him an unamused glance. “Rhys—”

“Hey.” He cuts you off, squeezing your waist. “Look.”

Your eyes fall below, and you pause — blink.

War camp is not the correct term to describe what you’re descending towards.

Windhaven is a war camp. Windhaven is brutal, and cruel, and — quite frankly — unpleasant. You can spend a lifetime there and never feel at home amongst the crumbling, sparse buildings and watchful eyes.

Fenlaros is a small town.

You glimpse barracks and training rings, an armoury and a common hall — all things that Windhaven has. But Windhaven doesn’t have the pristine, secure buildings, looking as new as if they were built yesterday. Warm glows emanate from the inside out, and it feels almost ludicrous to consider that this is a place built to train for war. It just looks like…like a place someone could call home.

You’re close enough to pick up the sounds of music and laughter — all sounds of a place that’s lively despite the late hour. It’s Kaeda’s lead that your three friends follow, and it doesn’t surprise you one bit when she begins a smooth incline to what looked, from above, to be the largest, grandest building in the place.

Suitable dwellings for a Lord and his family, indeed.

Rhys is the last to touch the ground outside of the building. As he sets you down, Cassian lets out an approving whistle.

“This certainly beats the dormitories.” He says, and Kaeda grins.

“Welcome to Fenlaros.” Is all she answers.

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Nothing is ever as bad when the alcohol begins to flow. You even start to vaguely feel like…like you might actually enjoy yourself. The house is so big, filled to the brim with so many people, that you’ve only seen Azriel and Kaeda a couple of times in passing.

This sets off a tiny little battle in your innermost thoughts. Part of you wants to know what they’re up to. The other part of you really fucking doesn’t.

But so far, the people of the Fenlaros Camp are pleasant enough that you’re plied consistently with conversation, too occupied to wonder what might or might not be happening elsewhere in the building. You may just survive this party yet.

You’re just taking a moment to grab yourself another drink when you feel a touch on your shoulder. You turn, and you almost start at the sight of Kaeda smiling at you.

Gods, she really is beautiful.

“I feel like I haven’t had a chance to speak with you properly.” She says, and she’s right. There were very brief official introductions when she arrived to guide you all to Fenlaros, but so far, there’s been no one-on-one.

A fact of which you don’t know whether you’re relieved or disappointed.

“This place is…not like Windhaven.” You breathe a laugh. “Thank you — again — for the invite.”

“Of course. Azriel and I have been getting to know each other for a few months now. That’s all it is so far, and I don’t know where it might go, but I’d like to know his friends as well.”

Enough alcohol has settled into your system that the mention of Az’s name only gives a small twinge. You grin back at Kaeda. “It’s a relief to have another female around.”

“Gods, I’ll bet.” Her laugh is so, so brilliant. Like trickling water or birdsong or something. “Has it really been just the four of you all this time?”

“Pretty much. Since we were nine. A few odd love interests have come and gone, but nothing ever lasted.”

“Well.” She smiles. “Perhaps my arrival in Windhaven was a blessing in disguise.”

“I meant to ask, actually, what brought you there in the first place—”

“Don’t look now, but I think you may have bagged yourself an admirer.”

You pause at the interruption, your thoughts slow to catch up. And then you’re following Kaeda’s gaze to a group of boisterous males. One of whom is eyeing you with an intense hunger. As your eyes meet, one side of his mouth tips up into a smirk.

“That’s Thedis.” Kaeda tells you. “I’ve known him since we were younglings. He’s a good male.”

The way he’s drinking you in makes you not really care, in that moment, whether he’s a good male or a fucking terrible one.

“Listen, I’m going to go find Az.” Kaeda tells you, and her eyes glitter. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You give each other your names, and it’s all heavy petting from there.

Thedis doesn’t provide much in the way of conversation, but then that doesn’t matter when the music is loud, and the packed room is dancing, and he’s grinding against you.

He spins you in his arms, hands palming at your hips. You lean into the touch, knowing that his eyes are all over every one of your movements. He’s desperate for you. You have him eating out of the palm of your hand.

But it’s a different pair of hazel eyes that find yours from not far away. A more peculiar pair that you know so well.

Azriel dances nearby, Kaeda moving against him in a similar manner. But he stares at you. Intensely stares at you. The way his eyes rove over your outfit makes you feel like you’re actually wearing something worth marvelling over, and you didn’t just have to make do with what clothing you keep at Rhysand’s mother’s cottage.

The velvet top is pretty, though. Cinched at the waist and accentuating the curves of your breasts. You’re not certain if Thedis has stared at your face or your cleavage more.

But does it really matter, when you’re both aiming for the same, mindless goal, only desiring one thing from each other?

He surely doesn’t seem to think so as his hands explore your body. Azriel watches the entire thing with an unreadable expression.

You rip your gaze away, force it elsewhere. The room is so full that the air is stuffy, and your head spins a little. Against the far wall, a male has his tongue down Rhysand’s throat. They’re touching each other so desperately that it wouldn’t surprise you if they whipped their clothes off and began fucking there and then. The male would wear it as a badge of honour that he’d been with the future High Lord. Amongst the dancing bodies, Cassian is getting a similar treatment from a pretty, blonde female.

One song morphs into the next, and this one is faster, more frenetic. It spurs the couples around you on, and a sensual charge fills the space as if the damn lute players are strumming an aphrodisiac straight into the room.

Thedis slides his hands down to your ass, and he squeezes, lowering his head to brush his lips against yours.

“Let’s find somewhere more private.” He breathes onto your mouth. And he adds, without filter, “I want to fuck you.”

You tilt your head up, aiming to make contact with his lips.

The kiss never lands.

Everything happens too fast to register. But suddenly, Thedis is on the floor, and Azriel is on top of him, and the shadowsinger’s fist goes flying into his face.

Complete chaos erupts from there. Some people are darting out of the way, while others form a circle around the two males on the ground. The music stops, replaced by loud jeering and whoops of excitement. Azriel delivers a second punch, and Thedis returns it with one of his own, and then they’re rolling on the floor and you don’t know what to do.

“Azriel, what the fuck?” There’s no way he hears you above all the noise. You look around for Rhys, Cass, Kaeda, fucking anyone, but they all must be lost in the fray, the pushing and shoving.

You swear loudly, and you’re jostled this way and that as you push through people and try to reach the fight. You’re shoved forward just in time to see Azriel’s shadows snake around Thedis’s throat and squeeze—

“Azriel!” You snap. You try to grab the back of his shirt, but someone is grabbing the back of yours, trying to stop you from stopping him. You round on the Fenlaros male, shoving him away from you. “Do not touch me.”

And fuck, that’s the worst thing you could have done.

It doesn’t take much for Illyrians to start a fight. Male, female, it doesn’t matter — they’re a violent people, and as soon as you hit them with a punch or a shove, they’re accepting it as a provocation.

Which would be bad enough in Windhaven, where you’ve seen things get out of hand time and time again.

But you’re not in Windhaven. These aren’t your people. You’re in Fenlaros. And there’s now two members of Windhaven going up against two members of Fenlaros.

They take it as an affront from a rival camp.

And all hell breaks loose.

azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden @jjlevin @smitty-werbenjagermenjenson @spikertrash @kindagoldylocks @barbiezambie @kht1998 @soupghoul @nyctophiliawitch @gracie1234567891011 @gaymistakeboi @luvmxo @rinalouu @microwaveallthedemons @starlightshowdown

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haechvn · 5 months

Text

Dating Shuri Udaku Headcanons

Pairing: Shuri x F!Reader

Warning: Fluff, Toxic!Shuri, Angst and Smut since yall nasty asf

Summary/Request: I got so many requests for an update so here it is!

Word Count: 1k words

Author’s Note: I decided to make her mean since you hoes wanna be treated like shit or whatever. I'm getting back into my groove with this one for sure. 18+ MDNI fr or imma beat yall ass. NEED MORE SHURI GIFS WTH

Taglist: @inmyheadimobsessed @theblacksuccubus @melodykisses @blackhottie25 @tonakings @coalmistyy @szalipcombo @prettyluhlaiiii @yelenabelovasgf @callmeoncette @clqrosmgc @theblacksuccubus @cherios @shuris-whore @nut4shuri @gaspyghosttt @elliesdinosauar @idkhersposts @ziayamikaelson @trinthebean @sleepingnova @yunhofingers

Credits: @anitalenia for the super cute dividers get into itttt

Fluff

Cooks breakfast for you every morning after the two of you have sweet and reckless nights together

Loves getting the two of you matching sets of grillz. Gold, silver, diamond studded. It doesn't matter

Brings you alongside her for all of her council meetings as she truly values your opinion and wants you to be involved and know your role in leading the nation with her

Has a throne for you next to hers

Trains you with the Dora because she doesn’t want what happened last time with Namor to ever repeat itself

Buys you whatever you want right off each and every runway during all the major Fashion Week shows

Always get the biggest section when y’all got out and you betta be shaking that ass cause she gon be throwing them bills babyyyy

The amount of decorated hotel rooms you get from her is ridiculoussss. She’ll decorate a whole hotel for you just because she loved seeing your smile in the morning.

Always has her hand in yours no matter what the two of you are doing. Even hold your hand while you two brush your teeth

Never breaks eye contact with you while the two of you are speaking

Has more that 100 nicknames for you

Toxic/Angsty

Purposely starts arguments with you because it turns her on to see you riled up and she can’t stop thinking about you putting her back in her place

Used a bit too much of her strength on you during training and you had to stay in the hospital for a few nights. She locked herself in her room and couldn’t even stand to look at you when you were released.

Sometimes she lacks empathy because she believes she’s gone through the worse shit. She definitely gaslights you sometimes and walks away if you complain to her about having family issues

“Wow. It’s so sad you argue with your mom everyday. Where’s mine? Oh yea right. I’m done listening”

Tries to deny that she felt anything for RiRi but will constantly talk about how beautiful she is just to get you jealous. You end up beating her ass bc wtf

One of those lesbians that doesn't like when you talk to other women bc why the fuck would you?

Will look you dead in the eyes and tell you that you aren’t more important than her work and you should just leave her alone and spend the money she gives you. She sent 2 mil to your account while you stormed out of the lab

She’ll deny you sex because she didn’t like the way you spoke to the Dora earlier that morning. You said hi

She sometimes embarrassed by the lack of strength you have. Like tighten up tf

“Can you stop touching me? Even the Dora don’t smother me this much.”

Hates when you constantly run your hands through her hair like she didn’t just get it done

Kisses her teeth when you try to shake your ass and it doesn’t move the way she want it too

“Try harder maybe? Ugh just stop actually. You look cringe doing that” LIKE WHERE'S YOUR ASS MA'AM????

Smut

Shuri likes when you eat her pussy with her panther suit on. Yes. That part is cut out

She has different grillz for eating your pussy and then ones for eating you ass— SHE A BOTTOMFEEDAAAA

Shuri loves pressing her kimoyo beads against your clit and sending intense vibrations there. Rose toy who???

She eats your pussy at night sometimes because if you look hard enough while she’s making your head spin, her inner bottom lip glows softly with her vibranium tattoo, being the only source of light in the room

LOVES WHEN YOU DRILL HER SHIT TO THE POINT THAT SHE CANT BREATHE AND TRIES TO GRASP AROUND BUT SHE CANT BC THE VIBRANIUM CUFFS TOO STRONG EVEN FOR HER SO SHE HAS TO BEG YOU TO RELEASE HER EVEN THOUGH SHE KNOWS YOU WON’T AHHH

Can literally eat you out for hours and against your (consented) will, she definitely does

RIDES YOU IN THE NASTIEST SLOPPIEST WAY LIKE SHE LOVES SEEING YALL CREAM MIX AND IS OBSESSED WITH HOW STICKY SHE IS AND HOW MUCH STICKIER YOU ARE UGH SHE PRESSES HER LIPS AGAINST YOUR AS IF SHE CAN GO INSIDE YOU BYEEEEEEE

SHE AINT NO FAKE GAY NO MA’AM

Wakes you up most mornings with her lips sucking and teasing your breast bc babe she can’t get enough

BOTTOM!SHURI LOVES WHEN YOU SIT ON THE THRONE AND SHE TRIES TO MAKE HERSELF CUM OVER AND OVER RIDING YOUR THIGH WHILE YOU SIT ON HER THRONE OH WOW

SHE WHINES SO MUCH AND IS NOT QUIET AT ALL. Constantly getting complaints from everyone in the palace

Likes getting her ass devoured. SORRY NOT SORRY

Kissing you alone get her wetter than river Niger omgggg (I’m African and this how we say it PLS)

Constantly talking you through EVERYTHING she does to you

“You take my fingers so well”

“Hmm, you know I love when you squeeze around me like that. Fuck, do that again.” (THE WAY SHE ROLLS HER R’S UGHHH)

“Please, I can’t take it. I-I… Fuck you feel so good. Don’t stop fucking me, put me in my place”

Never breaks eye contact with you when she’s drilling the shit out of you

LOVES WHEN YOU FUCK HER FACE WITH ALL THE STRAPS SHES MADE IN THE LAB

Literally she’ll be in the lab with her goggles on with all her tools scattered all of the table and gets wet picturing you standing over her and using her mouth like a toy OMG

Loves when you tie her up with pink and purple ribbons and stuff her mouth with your panties BYE

LIKES BEING BLINDFOLDED AND WEARING FLUFFY EARMUFFS SO YOU CAN DO ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING TO HER AND GIVING YOU FULL CONTROL

WHITE FLUFFY EARMUFFS WITH PINK RIBBONS AND HER CURLY HAIR SHAKING AROUND EVERY TIME SHE MOVES

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m-ilkiee · 1 month

Text

Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

Chapter 2: Shots Fired

series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

chapter summary: Izana Kurokawa demands your attention and he doesn’t take no for an answer. Not even when his demands are outrageous.

cw: DARK CONTENT, MISOGYNY, NSFW, r*pe mention, religious guilt, depictions of PTSD and CPTSD, emotional incest, incestuous assault (NOT THE SANOS), abandoment issues, violence, revenge porn, depression, filming without consent, drugging, domestic (physical and sexual) abuse, victim blaming, blackmailing, depictions of rape culture, manipulation, gaslighting, noncon, dry humping, mind break, psychological and sexual torture, use of firearms, attempted su*cides

r-18+ (not suitable for 17 and under)

wc: 11.6k

[masterlist] [chapter 1] [chapter 3] [taglist]

a/n: likes are nice, comments and reblogs with comments are superior, anons are also superior too and would make me update faster cause it means people like what i write. this chapter takes an entirely different turn from the old story, some scenes are similar but the context is different. i host polls after this so stay tuned.

YOU haven’t been able to stay asleep for the past few days.

It’s easy to fall asleep after a hard and stressful day at school and your part-time job. Your limbs ache from all the walking and lugging a bookbag far heavier than what you could handle -since all your e-textbooks were on your (now destroyed) laptop and phones were not allowed during lectures. And working from 5pm until 9pm at a restaurant, serving food to rude, overbearing customers only to be paid in pieces was another added stress in itself.

Not to mention, studying until the words are bleary and just looking at a book hurts your eyes.

But then, in all your dreams, everything you’ve pushed to the back of your memory is at the forefront. Your dream starts typically, your normal school day, waking up, dressing in your cute little blue crop sweater and jean skirt with socks. You go to classes, and then you see Mikey’s car waiting for Emma.

Things take a different turn. He’s the one getting out of the car to meet you. It’s like a siren call, him holding out his hand for you to take despite someone screaming for you to stop. You try to reject him, try to run away like the voice said but you end up getting trapped. This time, he’s not using his hands. He’s fully sheathed inside you, robbing you of the thing you hold so dear while you kick, bite and claw at him until you wake up screaming, sweat soaked all over your sheets.

You consistently dream of being violently raped by Manjiro Sano.

The next few hours until sunrise were equally horrible. You’re quietly sobbing into your pillows, praying to God to forgive you for letting Mikey touch you in the first place, assuming your reason for having such dreams was God’s divine judgement for your grievous sin. You’ve lost count on how many Bible verses you stay up reading until your eyes are bleary and the sun comes up.

No matter how much you pray and how many times you recite psalms 127 before you sleep, you can never escape Mikey in the world of dreams. He’s a virus that has invaded your thoughts, corrupting every dream you had and twisted them into nightmares.

You don’t know how long you can hold on being this sleep deprived. It’s been impairing your school life, trying to find a way to stay awake during classes only for you to fall asleep and miss the rest of it. Even when you got notes from the person next to you, reading them was always difficult because your eyes hurt so much.

Work was even more taxing and stressful, rush week adding more stress than you could ever imagine. You found yourself spacing out more than usual when you were supposed to be taking orders. You were unable to keep up with the fast paced environment, your body feeling like a ton of bricks with every moment you make. Your eyes were heavy lidded, tired from forcing them open throughout the day.

You were so, so tired-

“Hello! Are you sleeping on me young lady?” A voice snapped at you.

Your eyes shot open and immediately you stood back straight. You must have been dozing off while taking the older lady’s order -the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid all day long. “No, not at all Ms-” you started to explain. “-I was just … what was your order aga-”

You flinched when the woman angrily slammed her fist on the table, shutting you up instantly! “So you were sleeping on the job! What kind of establishment allows this?” She screamed, attracting the attention of customers around. “I need to speak to your manager. NOW!”

You instantly began to panic at the mention of your manager. If he heard any of this, he was definitely going to fire you. You cannot afford to lose this job right now, with all your school expenses and saving up money for next session’s tuition.

“No mam!” you begged, keeping your voice even as you tried to reason with her. “Th-there’s no need for that! Please! Let me take your order and I’ll-” you racked your brain for an excuse, knowing fully well your establishment does not offer free meals. “- I’ll pay for your meal! On me-”

“So you’re trying to imply I’m poor?” She interrupted you again, her tempo even higher than before. “You disrespectful little wretch! How dare you? GET ME YOUR MANAGER RIGHT NOW!”

You started begging the older woman, trying to calm her down and de-escalate the situation, but each plea only fuelled her rage. By now, every customer, every employee and just anyone in that place watched you grovel and beg this woman to calm down, some people even videoing your altercation. Your body was trembling as she screeched in your ears, calling you all sorts of names while you relentlessly apologised to her.

“What is going on here?”

You winced at the sound of your manager’s voice emerging from the backrooms. You stood stiffly as he walked to your side, using his shoulder to nudge you out of the way. “Is there something wrong Ms.?” He asked the lady. “What happened?”

“This little wretch!” She practically screeched at you, her finger wagging straight at your hung face. “She was sleeping while I was ordering! And when I pointed it out to her calmly, she called me a hag!”

Your eyes snapped open. You can tolerate people yelling at you, but lying is out of the question. “I did not call you anything! That’s a lie-”

“You be quiet!” Your manager yelled at you, silencing you. He turned to face the woman again, apologising profusely for your so called rude behaviour. “I promise you mam, she will be dealt with accordingly. Your order is in the house, please take that as a token of our humble apology and forgive us.”

You stood there in shock as the woman smirked satisfactorily at her now free meal. “Well, you better get rid of her!” She snarked, eyes scanning you up and down, plopping back down on her seat. “Or you’ll lose me as a patron.”

“Of course mam.” He said sweetly before switching his countenance towards you into a more irritated one. “You, come with me.”

You lowered your head once again in disappointment as you started following your manager towards the back rooms, your head lowered in shame as the eyes followed your every move to your damnation waiting for you in the manager’s office.

Your skin crawled as you felt his penetrating gaze on you, as if judging you. “You know how many complaints I have received this week just from you, (name)? How many orders you’ve messed up?”

You shook your head no in response, not trusting yourself to say anything reasonable at this point. He eyes you up and down again before scoffing at you rudely. “I only let you stay here because you said you were desperate for a job. But apparently, you’re not even bothered enough to keep it.” He spat out. “Unfortunately for you, this is the end of the road for you here. Change out of your uniform and leave.”

“But s-”

“I said you’re FIRED. GET OUT.”

You sighed weakly, obeying your now ex-manager’s order and leaving the office. You ignored the eyes of everyone watching you exchange the too tight black jeans and green top uniform back to your white bohemian skirt and light blue top with your white jacket. Calmly, you packed your school bag and everything you owned with you and slung it over your shoulder, replacing the uniform back to the locker, dropping the key on top.

No one said goodbye to you as you left through the back door.

IZANA knows it's creepy to be waiting for Emma just outside her college, but it's not like he has a choice when she keeps ignoring any method he uses to contact her.

Mindlessly, he fiddled with his lighter with his back on the wall of the English department building and an unlit cigarette between his lips. Purple eyes scanned the people leaving the building one by one, hoping to find a mop of golden hair amongst the students. His hopes rose with each blond he saw, only for him to deflate when he realised they weren't her.

A few minutes passed and still no sign of Emma. Deciding that he didn’t want to stand around and gape, Izana lifted his lighter towards his cigarette, flicking the light twice and bringing the warm flame to his lips. Breathing in the familiar scent of nicotine, smoke filled his lungs as he tucked the lighter back in his pockets. His free hand took the cigarette from his lips and he exhaled, releasing plumes of smoke from his lips.

His smoking habit had gotten worse within the past week. Izana couldn’t help it, reaching for a light anytime he saw his gifts in the dustbin. Emma hasn’t been this angry at him before. Usually a new plushie was enough to wash his sins clean, no matter how grevious they were. Now, not even the most expensive shoes she’s been eyeing for months could satiate her anger.

All because of you.

Izana knows his little sister like the back of his hand. Like how she loved sleeping with plushies because it comforted her whenever their mother brought her gambling friends into the house and they were loud. Or how he picked up a guitar to learn multiple barbie songs because their mother had destroyed Emma’s CD that he bought with his money to punish her. He knew she liked warm tea during her periods and gentle back rubs to ease her pain. He’s not the best person to be around, with how fucked over he was by life until Shinichiro gave him purpose but he loved his sister a lot and everything he did was to protect her. Life hardened him, made him so jaded that the only thin thread connecting him to his humanity was Emma and he’d do anything to protect his humanity.

Only to watch it slip through his fingers.

First it was Mikey’s stupid friend, Ken Ryugi, who waltzed his way into Emma’s life. Izana didn’t like him one bit- didn’t like how Emma would bite her lip, waiting for him to reply and cry herself to sleep when he didn’t. Her heart was soft, fragile and that brute tore it apart by telling her he wasn’t interested in a relationship yet.

The only reason Ken wasn’t in an unmarked, shallow grave in the middle of nowhere was simply because Mikey was involved.

Now it is you, taking the space in her life that belonged to him and Mikey. You’re pushing both of them out of the equation, threatening their position in their sister’s life and everything they know.

Izana wonders how someone so insignificant was so important to Emma that she was willing to cut communications with her own brothers. It baffles him beyond understanding and at the same time enrages him that she could trust you so easily. That she was willing to turn against him in your name.

He took more puffs, skimming throughout the campus for any sight of her. It didn’t matter how he felt about it, as Kisaki had convinced him to ask Emma and you to go shopping, just to get back into Emma's good graces again. Apparently doing a nice gesture publicly for you would convince their sister to give them another chance again.

Especially because Izana had been the biggest opposition to their friendship.

“But Mikey was a little shit about them too.” he grumbles underneath his breath, cigarette in hand. “Why do I have to be the one to apologise? And why did Mikey get an out while I’m doing all the heavy lift-”

His thoughts were cut short the second he caught sight of a familiar blonde hair bouncing in the wind and stood up straight, tossing the cigarette to the floor and crushing it underneath his black shoes, before rushing to catch up to his little sister.

Izana pushed through the throng of people, violently shoving anyone that got in his way until he finally fell in step with her, slowing down to match her pace. Without wasting time, his hand curled around the girl’s wrist, stopping her in her tracks instantly and earning a shocked gasp escaped her lips.

“Get off me - Izana?”

Her free hand was fast to hit him, but her head was faster in turning around, only to recognize it was just Izana. Her hand stopped inches away from the smirking male’s face, the tension leaving her body and relief taking its place. It doesn’t last long, though as irritation suddenly crawls on her face, instantly displeased at his actions. “What the hell? I’ve told you to stop doing that.” she hissed at him.

A mischievous grin made its way to his face at Emma’s irritation. She always had a pout whenever she was angry at him and it made look even more adorable.

“Were you scared?” He teased, pulling Emma closer to him until she was practically smushed at his side, despite the glare she gave him in response. “You know no one would dare touch you.”

“Get off me. Your breath stinks like nicotine, I thought you said you quit smoking that shit.”

Ignoring Emma’s last question, he decided to change the topic. “Your lapdog isn't here with you?” he asked. Usually, you would be hovering behind her like a damn pest, so you not being around her was rather strange.

Emma is quick to shove him off lightly, putting some distance between the two of them, clearly still mad at him. "(Name)'s not feeling well, so she didn't come to class today. I'm on my way to get her medicine."

Oh, that's a surprise.

But with you out of the way, Izana could finally have Emma all to himself for today and hang out with his beloved sister. Maybe even make up for the party thing without apologising to you. Without you here, it’s likely Emma isn’t as mad at the whole situation and is playing it up to make you feel like you have someone on your side.

He knows you’re not going to protest if Emma says she’s in talking terms with her brothers again. It’s a win-win situation and he doesn’t have to grovel or ask for forgiveness for some joke that went wrong.

"So that means we can hang out?"

"Excuse me?"

"You don't have to keep pretending you're still mad at me now that she isn't here." He spews the 'she' with so much venom it could kill, before switching up with a sick grin, his hand stretched out. "We can go to Vivienne Westwood and get that Saturn necklace you like, what do you say?"

His words hung in the air as Emma trailed her pointed glare from his hand, back to his cheerful visage. She crossed her arms in response slowly, her yellow eyes burning holes into his face as her lips curled into a sick sneer.

“Are you insane?”

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what?’ me Izana! I just told you (name)'s ill and you're asking me to go with you to shop at Vivienne westwood? Are you nuts?”

Emma’s voice was loud enough to garner wandering eyes of other by-standers, watching the event go down. Izana kept his composure, despite his bubbling irritation beneath the surface of his skin, with a smile -albeit stiffer than before. ‘She’s just being emotional’ Izana whispered to himself, still trying to be rational. ‘Just take it easy with her’

“Oh come on, should I care about her-"

"You should be begging her to forgive you for what you did to her that night!"

"You can't still be mad at me for that shit that happened two weeks ago. And besides, it's not my fault she couldn't take a joke” his words were smooth, buttery, flowing out of his lips like it was the truth, digging his own grave. “I didn’t know your friend was that sensitive-”

“Are you listening to the bullshit coming from your mouth?” Emma roared, her voice echoing throughout the entirety of the department, her face red with fury. Izana had never seen his own beloved sister ever look at him with such disgust in her eyes, her teeth gnashing against each other and hands at her side, clenching against each other. “Is that what you think a joke sounds like?”

“Calm the fuck dow-”

“No wonder you’re fucking single, you’re such a piece of shit to anyone that isn’t Shinichiro!” Emma screamed, interrupting Izana once again, her temper fiery enough to burn a hole on the ground she stood with how heated she was. “How does anyone even stand you for so long? You’re unbearable!”

“Excuse m-”

He doesn’t like where the conversation is going, with how furious Emma was right now. He tried to raise a comforting hand to Emma’s shoulder to ease her tension but she was quick to smack it away from her hard, stinging his fingers a little.

“You’re so unpleasant, how do you even have any friends? How do they tolerate you? To think (name) wanted me to forgive you! Thank god you aren’t my fucking brother, I can’t imagine being anything like you!”

The words left her mouth before she could stop herself.

It was as if the world froze over for Izana. He stood there, wide eyed, his heart beating loudly in his chest as all the voices around him faded into the background. His hand extended weakly at his side, mouth drying up as a lump formed in his throat.

“I-I-i" she starts to stutter. It’s obvious that she can recognize what she had just said as he blankly stared at her. "I didn't mean i-”

He doesn’t let her finish, turning on his heel and walking away as fast as possible. People were quick to clear out of his way, not wanting to be his target of aggression. Emma followed behind, instantly, shouting his name at the top of her lungs followed with strings of apologies.

“Izana, wait please-” she screamed from the crowd of people, tears streaming from her yellow eyes. He continued to ignore her as he hopped on his bike, sliding in the key and revving up the engine before she could reach him.

Izana zoomed away, turning Emma’s cries into background noise, her words repeating in his head.

“I didn’t mean it! I’M SORRY-”

YOU don't know which was worse, the feeling of helplessness that came with the reality of your life crashing before your very eyes or the splitting headache you've developed after crying in your room for a week straight. Laying on your bed all day, huddled up in a blanket and sobbing uncontrollably was unhealthy, but it was all you found the strength to do these days.

In all your years of being alive, you've never felt this pathetic. Not when you would be pushed outside in the pouring rain if you made a mistake in making dinner, or had been beaten with a belt in front of Yuzhua and Hakkai because you failed your catechism test. You could protect yourself from your brothers when they got violent. You could run and hide when your dad was really angry and wanted to take it out on you.

Unfortunately, no one told you what to do when your life is falling apart.

Ever since that day, you couldn't find the strength to go to class or do anything for that matter. It was like your entire energy was sucked out of you, leaving your body an empty husk with nothing left to give.

You only have yourself to blame.

You drag the blankets closer to your body, sniffling a bit. The worst part of all of this is that after this month, if you don’t find a job that pays you quickly, you are going to be broke. It’s times like this that makes you regret leaving your family. You know it’s wishful thinking, but you wonder if you would be forgiven assuming you return home in tears and repentant of your sin of disobedience like the prodigal son in the bible. Life is too hard to live in the outside world without the help and guidance of a parent. You miss your old life, with your own bed and guaranteed food, as long as you did as you were told. You miss how sometimes your parents took you and your siblings to eat out after church.

You miss your mother. You want to go back to her. Life is hard, and dealing with being jobless with nowhere to turn to is harder. You could ask Emma, but she’s already taking care of you and there was no way you would bother your friend about your money problems.

"Hey babes, I got the medicine for you."

Emma's soft voice rouses you out of your self-pity session. The wood creaks underneath her heels as she walks to your bed and takes a seat besides you, the mattress dipping underneath her weight. The scent of her Vivienne Westwood wafting through your nostrils fills you with a sense of warmth, familiarity and at the same time, dread.

You feel guilty. Perhaps it's because you don't know how to tell Emma what exactly is wrong with you. It's easier to give her the half-truth that you caught a stomach bug than say everything. If you even as much as hinted that Manjiro had something to do with the real reason you were a sobbing mess on your bed, you're sure she would overreact and fight with her brothers again.

But still, not telling her meant you were keeping secrets from her. Something you both promised not to ever do as you two became best-friends.

‘It’s for her own good.’ you try to justify it. ‘It’s better I keep my mouth shut.’

Pushing that thought at the back of your mind, you roll over to her direction, pulling down your blanket just a little bit to see her properly. Your heart drops at the sadness etched onto Emma’s face, a forlorn look in her eyes. You hated seeing her down, yet all you’ve been doing for the past few months since you came into her life was causing her pain. You know how it feels to lose family, no matter how bad they were to you and Emma is no different.

“Hey”

Your voice is hoarse from your constant crying, but Emma doesn’t mention it as she reaches a hand to caress your face. “You look better than yesterday. You up to eat?”

You nodded briefly, realising how hungry you were. You’ve barely had an appetite to eat anything, so your rations had been smaller and compact until you regained it back bit by bit, thanks to Emma’s constant care. Pushing yourself up, you sit up and yawn, quickly covering your mouth the moment a bad stench emanates from it. Emma’s face quickly grows sour as well, probably smelling it too.

“You haven’t showered.”

“Uhhh-”

You knew there was no excuse for that one as Emma put the food and medicine away before yanking you off the bed while talking about how gross you were for not showering throughout today. “You’re a girl (name), don’t do this to yourself, c’mon-”

“But-” you start to whine, trying to defend yourself. “I was tired-”

“Nope!” she retorted, pushing you towards the bathroom. “No excuses! I swear you’re acting like Mikey when he’s in one of his moods-”

The room falls silent at her words, the cheerful aura dropping the second Emma realises what she’s said, a wave of guilt washing over her face as she lets go of your hands.

“Fuck- I’m sorry (name)...”

Your heart aches at how heartbroken she sounds right now and shatters even further at the fact that everything, every problem they were experiencing right now was all your fault. You saw it deep in Mikey’s eyes how much pain and suffering your presence in their family had caused, and how his anger reflected that action towards you. You’ve been so entrenched in your own problems that you forgot the mess you made in their family.

“Emma, you miss them don’t you?”

‘It’s not too late.’ You mutter to yourself, your heart in your throat as you steel your resolve. You couldn’t let her make that mistake you made by leaving your family aside. You don’t want Emma to be like you.

“(Name), please don’t-”

“You can’t keep ignoring them forever.” You cut her short, speaking directly to her now. “You can’t keep ignoring Draken either too. You’re miserable.”

“I’m fin-”

“Emma no.” You snap at her, finally having enough of her stubbornness as anger swells up in you. “I see how sad you look everytime you look at your pictures with your big brothers and Draken. Do you think that it’s healthy to keep ignoring them like this?”

“You were the one they hurt, you shouldn’t feel bad for them-”

“It doesn’t matter! I don’t matter!” You yell desperately, now pulling away from her grasp in an attempt to put your foot down. “They are the ones who matter a lot. Those are you family members! People who love you and have protected you for years! Just talk it out with them! They miss you for god’s sake!”

“What the hell do you mean you don’t matter?” Emma roars back at you, suddenly enraged by your outburst. You nearly stumble back at how angry she sounded, fear creeping into your skin as your verbal claws retract. “You matter to me! You mean the world to me as any of them do! You’re my best friend and I love you and if they don’t understand that then there is nothing to make up for!”

By the time she was done yelling, her breathing was heavy and her eyes so intense you couldn’t even stare at her. Your eyes quickly flickered to your feet instead; scared of seeing the disappointment on her face and terrified of her anger. You didn’t like it when Emma yelled, it reminded you of your mother getting angry at you, something you hated doing to her.

Eventually, she took a deep breath and took a step closer to you, her hand intertwined with yours. “Come on, I’ll help you shower.”

You silently follow behind her, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped.

PERHAPS Izana should be angry at Emma.

It would be justified after the words she said from her mouth, but he can’t because he knows the truth. Emma was just angry as well and she didn’t mean any of the words she had said to hurt him. She said them because of you, however and he realises that every fight they’ve had is over your presence in her life.

Which meant that the true culprit was you.

People may believe in love at first sight, but from the first day Izana set his eyes on you, he could only feel hatred towards you. You were just there, sitting awkwardly while Emma tried to involve you in their conversation and it irked him.

At first, Izana thought it was the fact that the both of you were clashing personalities that made him feel that way, but then you keep getting in his way and ruining things for him. He hates everything about you - the way you picked your finger when you were nervous. Your bright smile you gave to only Emma and how easy it was for her to like you. Just your mere presence in general was enough to set him off because of how simple it was for you to be close to Emma while you barely knew her. It felt like he was losing his only sister to a stranger, and now the Emma who stands in front of him is a mere mockery of his real sister.

And that’s the frustrating part. He can’t do anything to hurt you. He’s smart enough to know that if he does, Emma would never forgive him.

“... Kurokawa, are you here with us?”

Izana snaps back to reality as Kisaki taps the table three times to get his attention. ‘I might have spaced out.’ He thinks to himself before facing the entirety of the table; Tetta Kisaki, the rather shrewd and ruthless dealer sitting, his equally irritating lap dog Shuji Hanma and the little shit that he called his younger brother, Mikey.

Speaking of Mikey, ever since that day he made that phone call and revealed his brand new plan of accepting you into their friend group, he’s been very quiet. Even throughout today’s meeting, he hasn’t said a word, aside from mentioning that Draken was going to be absent and asking where Kakucho was before the meeting began.

And knowing his brother, a quiet Mikey is a suspicious Mikey.

Now that Izana thinks about it, he’s noticed that Mikey, who was on his side initially had suddenly switched to trying to apologise to you. Which was weird, considering how egocentric Mikey could be on the topic of apologising. Izana has his suspicions, but then again Mikey is unpredictable due to his rather dark impulses, so he couldn’t really say anything yet, until Kakucho came back from his task.

Izana cleared his throat and faced Kisaki again, deciding to be as honest as possible. After all, it’s their fault that he’s in this mess, might as well remind them. “Just thinking about how Emma practically called me a bastard and I’m supposed to be okay with it.” He said nonchalantly and the air in the room shifted into an uncomfortable silence for the upteenth time this week ever since that unfortunate day. It isn’t surprising to anyone as to why though, Izana’s complicated relationship with the Sano’s is a sore topic that no one ever dared to bring up.

From Kisaki’s tight lipped expression, Izana is sure that the younger male is picking his words carefully in his head. Even Hanma who would have laughed or said something to intentionally piss off Izana remains silent. Eventually, Kisaki lets out a resigned sigh. “The audit would be done another time.” He states in a cool tone, putting his laptop aside before facing the two brothers. “It’s obvious we’re not gonna do anything useful until you resolve this issue with Emma and her friend.”

“Really?” The white haired male mocks, causing Kisaki to shift in his place, an irritated frown creasing his face. “would you like to hear my pla-”

“We’re not going to kill a civilian and draw attention to ourselves, Izana. I’ve already told you what to do.” Kisaki snapped back, his yellow eyes darting from Izana to Mikey, before narrowing in irritation. “Both of you. Just apologise to (name), it’s not that hard. You don’t even have to mean it, the girl won’t even know the difference-”

“Ah yes, cause that went well the last time.”

“And whose fault is that? I clearly told you to say “I’m sorry” and all you did was make things worse!”

“I’m just brutally honest.” Izana spits back. “And you can’t blame me because I tried, compared to Mikey who sits on his damn ass and has done nothing-”

“I wasn’t the one who called her a cheap hooker!” Mikey interjects defensively, sitting upright after staying quiet from the start of this meeting, finally saying something.

“Oh, so you can speak.” Izana retorts back, his voice cold. Mikey is so good at shifting blame onto others for actions he has a hand in, especially when he knows it would reflect badly on him. Unfortunately, Izana has been in this game longer than his little brother. “I thought you had gone mute with the way you don’t want to talk about the issue beyond pushing me to apologise to her.”

“You don’t make it any easier with how you talk to people.” Mikey hisses back, his tempo rising with each word, but Izana can hear the slight shake in his voice, almost as if he’s hiding something. “How am I supposed to do anything if you keep saying shit like you’re glad (name)’s gone?”

(Name)?

The entire room falls silent at Mikey’s sudden outburst, or rather what Mikey had just said. No one says a word as they all stare at Mikey in shock, eye wide and mouth hanging open like he’d grown two heads. There’s a glimmer of confusion in the dark eyed male before the realisation of his mistake washes over him, his facial expression changing into a mixture of guilt and pure terror.

As if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

It’s unmistaken. Izana knows his brother is hiding something and it has to do with you. “You’ve never,” he starts slowly, never taking his eyes off Mikey, gauging his facial expression. “called her by her name. You only call girls who you had something to do with by their name.”

“I-”

“You fucked her, didn’t you.” it’s a statement, not a question. Mikey grows pale and it's more of a sure answer than anything else at all.

“I didn’t do anything bad… she’s still a virgin-”

“What.” Kisaki, interjecting as well, cuts him off, his voice cold. “Did. You. Do?”

Mikey is silent. It’s brief and doesn’t last long as he finally seals his fate with a quiet voice. “It’s not my fucking fault, she wore a short skirt and she was asking for it-”

At the side, Kisaki crumples back onto the dining table seat, his head in his hands muttering a quiet “Oh fuck, I should have stayed with Osanai.” as he shakes in disbelief. Hanma just sits there, clearly perturbed, not knowing how to react but at the same time, not really interested.

“Glad to know I’m not the only screw up.” Izana scoffs as well. Despite how cheery his voice sounded, the furious look on his face says a different story altogether. “Since apparently you’re just as stupid as I am.”

Mikey runs a hand through his golden locs, frustration evident on his features. No one has ever seen him look so frantic, like a little kid who broke something and is trying to hide it. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Sure she said no at first but I knew she wanted it when she relaxed in my touch-”

“That’s not what Emma’s gonna think, you idiot!” Izana barks at him angrily, his temper finally off the rails. “You practically threw away your entire plan before it even started! All for what? Mediocre pussy you could get from some other girl? And you know how Shin is about this shit. If Emma finds out and tells him, we’re screwed!”

There’s a mixture of emotions swirling in Izana right now. The urge to punch Mikey was strong, for daring to not only lie to his face, but also making him look like a fool to cover his ass.

Then again, he knows it’s really not Mikey’s fault but yours. You must have done something to make Mikey hurt you because he knows his little brother doesn’t hurt girls. You have this effect of turning people into worse versions of themselves, making them disgusting, evil and hateful.

You turned Emma against them and now you made Mikey’s dark impulses come out.

It’s you that’s the problem.

“So what anyone find out? They won’t believe her” Mikey snarls back, irritated. “She can’t blame me, I told her to fucking leave but she didn’t listen! She was practically begging me to fuck her-”

“ENOUGH!”

Kisaki’s voice is loud enough to silence the two brothers, ending their argument instantly as they breathe heavily from their prior screaming match. Izana slumps back on his seat as Kisaki sits up straight, eyes narrowed. Mikey does the same as Izana, his jaw tightly clenched as he crosses his arms on his chest, feet crossed. The younger male clears his throat, and starts to rationalise the situation.

“It’s obvious that we’re going to switch gears since this happened. We all have a curated reputation that we need to protect so that people don’t nose into our business.” He turns to Mikey who is still glaring hard at Izana. “Your brother has a point, you fucked up our plan by not telling anyone what you did-”

“You judging me too, Kisaki?”

“Can you stop being defensive for once Mikey and just listen!” Kisaki scolds, just about done with everyone making things more difficult for him. “I don’t care what you did to her, whatever affection or lust you have for her is a you problem. I just want this situation to be in our favour.”

The statement makes Izana scoff in dismal fashion, but he decides to ask out of curiosity regardless. “And how do you intend to turn this situation around? Cause right now she has leverage over us and any careless move can put us in a tougher spot than we can handle.”

Kisaki turns his attention fully towards Izana again, a knowing look on his face as he asks. “Is Kakucho done searching Mikey’s car?”

‘How did he know?’ Izana blinks, but then catches Hanma smirking and doesn’t bother to ask his impending questions. Kisaki always had a nasty and suspicious habit of continuously tailing him specifically, and usually it doesn’t go over Izana’s radar when it happens, apart from this instance. Which meant someone was being a rat in his group.

He’ll deal with that later.

Mikey raised a brow in confusion as well, opening his mouth to protest the invasion of his privacy when Izana’s phone suddenly rings. He picks it up, attempting to step out to answer it when Kisaki raises his hand to stop him.

“Answer it here.” Kisaki said, ignoring the way Izana looks at him like he has two heads. “and put it on speaker.”

He had no reason to comply, but he wanted to see where Kisaki was going with whatever plan he had. With a wry smile, Izana put the phone down on the table and slid the answer button, putting it on a loudspeaker.

“Did you find anything Kakucho?”

Ever loyal, Kakucho clears his throat and starts to speak, his voice sounding strained over the phone, as if he’s struggling with something. “Yes boss.” He answers, a twinge of nervousness coating his tone. “There’s a dash cam on the mirror and a spy cam underneath the compartment facing the passenger’s seat…”

Mikey grumbles under his breath something about fucking Kakucho up if anything ends up spoilt or missing in his car but Kisaki holds his hand up to his lips and shushes him. Izana continues once he’s sure his brother is done complaining. “And did you confirm the anonymous tip that we got?”

He can hear Kakucho shift uncomfortably, the silence on the other side of the phone drawn out until he finally says. “Boss, it’s too … I don’t think we should use this against her.” He tries to reason. “I think we’re going too far-”

“Perfect.” Kisaki chimes in, now looking at Izana with a satisfied smile. Kakucho is about to ask why Kisaki was there but Izana cuts him off instead. “Bring it back. I’ll explain once you come to the house.”

“Okay boss.”

The phone line dies and Kisaki, fairly confident in his plan, looks at Izana once again. “I’m sure you know where I’m going, right?”

Izana may think Kisaki is a pathetic brat who just happened to be smart, but right now, it’s like the both of them are connected and in tune with their thoughts. The tanned male stretches his lips into a smile, one full of malice and at the same time, glee, his eyes light with mirth when he realises what Kisaki was thinking.

Finally a plan he could follow along with.

“Alright, I’m all ears.”

THE walk back to your dorm was quiet.

By the time you managed to catch a bus after spending the entire day looking for a job and getting back to campus, it was already late in the night. Save for only the street lamps that were beginning to dim, everywhere else was darker than usual.

You had read that there was going to be a lunar eclipse tonight between the hours of 10pm - 00am. The time boldly written on the bus’ digital clock before you got down was 10:45pm, so you already assumed it was the cause of the unnatural darkness tonight.

A long time ago before the world weighed you down, things like this would have made you excited. You loved watching the stars when you were young, trying to check on the papers your father bought to see if there was any space news available. You remember borrowing your immediate elder brother’s binoculars as a makeshift telescope, trying to piece out the stars in the sky or see if you would catch a glimpse of the comet that was said to pass through that week.

Unfortunately, you were young and foolish. Wanting to impress your father, you told him all about your book of constellations that you drew up, detailing the first star that appeared every evening, down to your crazy childish theories about aliens and space.

“Can you show me the book?” your father asked calmly. You should have known it was dangerous for your father to be this calm, but you were too blinded by excitement to think and you gave him the book, a bright smile on your face.

Your smile fell as his large hands ripped your book into shreds, before telling you: “Women don’t dream.”

Maybe that was the day you realised the love you craved from your father will never be given to you. You were so young and impressionable, all you wanted was for him to be proud of you, like he was with his sons. Now, you can’t even look at the stars, the memory leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and you try to shake it off as you continue on the path.

You wondered what grievous sin you’ve committed to be so down on your luck like this. Today had been one disappointment to another

You passed by Emma’s dorm building, a sigh escaping your lips. She told you that Draken wanted to take her out for dinner tonight, which shocked you because friends with benefits - according to what Emma herself told you- don’t go on dates or do lovey dovey stuff with each other, to avoid complicated feelings from budding.

Then again, their relationship is based on the fact that they both have feelings for each other, but Draken was not interested in a relationship.

It was already complicated before it began but at least she's taking your advice and talking to them again.

Your eyes darted up to her window, hoping her lights were on. Whenever she was alone, Emma hated sleeping in the dark. She said it reminded her of the times her mother would lock her and Izana in a dark room whenever she brought her customers in. Anytime she was in a darkened room, she told you she could still hear the sound of her mother moaning and a man grunting. Izana would try his best to distract her, playing games or even stealing an earphone and plugging it to his own so that she would listen to music instead of what was going on.

A frown graced your lips when you saw two bodies from the curtain, one tall figure you recognize as Draken and Emma’s smaller dainty figure perched on him, kissing. You quickly averted your eyes and walked faster, ignoring the unfamiliar pang in your chest. Maybe you’re jealous because you needed your friend’s comfort right now and she wasn’t available. You felt greedy for this, after spending a week with her, you should let her be free.

‘She has her own life to live. And I have mine’ you muttered to yourself as you trudged along the path, slowly dragging your feet. ‘I have to stop being so dependent on her.’

Eventually, your thoughts drift back to your reoccurring dream. Losing your job made you realise that if you didn’t do anything about it, your tiredness would eventually catch up to you and ruin everything else you’ve worked for. With an important test scheduled for tomorrow, you knew you could not afford to take another loss this week. You had to power through your sleep tonight, even if it traumatised you.

‘Maybe I should pretend that I like it. Pretend it’s okay and enjoy it so that I won’t have to wake up.’ You shook your head, cursing as you drew closer to your own dorm building. ‘Oh God, how far I’ve fallen. Look at me trying to enjoy a disgraceful act-’

You paused in your tracks at the sound of a leaf crushing. You quickly turned around, trying to ascertain who could be lurking there behind the bushes. Your palms started sweating, your nerves firing at the thought of being watched.

Silence.

You decided to continue walking, assuming that maybe you were hearing things and there wasn’t anything at all. Nighttime always had a way of making you nervous, especially with all the horrible stories you heard about innocent women being attacked around these times. Besides, looking around for whatever may be lurking was a dumb idea.

You should just get out of here.

Eventually, you make it to your dorm house in record time, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. ‘Maybe I’m being paranoid. But at least I’m safe now.’ You think to yourself as you push the door open, closing it behind you.

Weary from the day’s stress, your body starts to give up on you but you push through, trying your best to just make it to your room. You’re sure you would just collapse on your bed the second you got there and forget about anything else.

You finally make it to your room, about to rummage your bag for the keys when you notice the door was unlocked. ‘Oh? Ami must have come back rather early, since I barely saw her until 2am?’

But as you reach for the handle, a feeling of dread washes over you, the same one you felt when you were outside. ‘I really need to let this go. There’s no harm waiting for me. It’s just my room.’ You mutter to yourself. Your overthinking has cost you a lot, from your job to your academics and right now, you really need it to stop. Pushing whatever feeling was keeping you away, you walked into the darkened room.

The first thing that greeted you was the stench of some kind of smoke -weed, the kind that Ami liked to use whenever she was in the room. You always hated the smell and you recall telling her to leave the windows open whenever she wanted to smoke. Coughing, you quickly covered your nose and mouth with one hand and reached to turn on the light with another. “Ami, how many times have I told you to open the window whenever you smoke? You know I don’t like the smell-”

Your blood turns to ice the moment light floods the room, your mouth dry as you stare at the man perched on your reading chair, a leg crossed over the other, the weed blunt hanging between his tanned hands. His lips are stretched into a sick grin, showing all his teeth, purple eyes shining with an odd mirth as he glances at you up and down.

Izana Kurokawa.

‘Run’

You don’t need to be told twice, quickly discarding your bag and running towards the direction of the door, only to hit someone hard, standing tall in your way. You look up fearfully to see mismatched eyes, a scar running down his face and flinch backwards in reflex. It’s as if he gazes at you with pity, but quickly switches to a blank stare as he stands between you and the door.

You know him from hanging around Emma a lot in the Tenjiku frat house, Kakucho. He’s always around Izana and only loyal to him for some reason that you don’t know. He doesn’t listen to anyone else, not even Mikey. You realise that he might have been the one that was following you when you were walking home.

Begging him to let you pass would be futile.

“Don’t worry, I’m just here to have a little chat with you. I’m not going to hurt you.” His tone is calm, but it doesn’t bring you any comfort. If Mikey could hurt you without any remorse, then there’s nothing stopping Izana from doing worse to you. “And as much as your backside is as interesting as your face, I prefer talking to someone who is looking at me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” The words fly out from your mouth before you even think of a more appropriate response but it doesn’t seem to give him any form of reaction other than a dry laugh.

“Ungrateful bitch. I could have sent my boys to do this for me instead, but I decided to talk to you.” He scoffed. “I don’t care. Turn around.”

Reluctantly you slowly turn to face him again, your body trembling as your fear filled eyes lock with his. Your heart drops to your stomach when you hear heavy footsteps walk out of the door, shutting it behind you, locks turning and trapping you with Izana.

‘Oh God oh God oh God.’

Your fear doesn’t go unnoticed by the white haired man, and he only chuckles at how stiff you were. Between the two brothers, you know Izana thrives in fear, using it to his advantage and it’s not unfounded. Notwithstanding his backing from Black dragons, Izana had taken Tenjiku from a down and out frat house, to a den of crime that holds power, trickling right into the administration of the university. Even his men know better than to ever get themselves in his bad books, because no one can ever escape him, no matter how much you try to run.

It was only a matter of time until he would make you pay for causing him problems, but you didn’t think he’d come by himself. You felt stupid for thinking he wouldn’t care about you or he’d forget how angry he was at you and leave you alone, especially with Emma still not on speaking terms with them.

He motions with his bunt for you to come closer to him and you comply, taking careful steps until you’re standing right in front of him. He eyes you again with a tepid frown. “When you meet a king, you don’t stand before him, you kneel.”

Kneel. You want to assume he’s not serious but you know better than to question him and go down on your knees, focusing your gaze firmly on your lap. It’s humiliating the way he has you at his mercy, without even moving an inch but it’s better to be compliant than to aggravate him even further by being disobedient.

You’ve learned the hard way what could happen if you resist.

From the corner of your eyes, you watch as Izana puts out his weed blunt on your reading table, before reaching behind his waistband. Your mouth grows dry the second you catch the sight of a gun, your heart pounding against your chest as he presses the barrel to your head.

‘Oh god.’ You gasp as he presses it further against your head, until you’re sure it would leave an indent. ‘He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me…’

“That’s odd,” He murmurs. “Usually, other people would be begging for their lives when met with a gun to their head, but you’re quiet. If not for the way your hands are trembling, I’d think you weren’t scared.”

This time, with a gun pointed at your head, you’re careful with your words. “Y-you said you won’t hurt me.” Your voice shakes with fear but you continue. You know men like Izana, he reminds you of your older brother who ruled the house outside your family with fear and control. Sometimes, when you were able to stroke his ego, he’d go easy on you. Maybe that would work on Izana too. “That you want to talk.”

“And what if I changed my mind? Pulled the trigger? That’ll make my life easier, yeah? I won’t have to fight for my sister’s love and affection with you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear the safety go off and watch as his finger curls around the trigger. ‘Oh God, he’s going to kill me. He’ll shoot me dead.’ Tears pricking your eyes. ‘I-i have to say something- I don’t want to die-’

“I-i trust you not to do it.” You reply, your lips trembling as you struggle not to think of your head scattered into pieces on the floor if he chooses to kill you. “You’re a man of your words.”

There’s another complete silence that engulfs the entire room, until you hear a click that makes you flinch for a split second, waiting for the bullet that would end it all. Instead, it’s him putting the safety back on, and chuckling at your reaction.

“You trust me? How foolish.” He laughs, tracing the gun from your head down to underneath your chin and forcing you to look up at him. You’ve only read about people with empty eyes in stories, but seeing it in person was so terrifying. “Is that why you ended up with Mikey in his car?”

All the blood rushes from your head to the tip of your toes. “H-how do you kn-”

“I have eyes and ears in this school, (name).” You’re sure it’s the first time you’ve heard him call you by your name and despite being in a life or death situation, you couldn’t control the shiver that ran through your spine. “Not to mention, I have the video evidence of you moaning like a slut just from being fingered-”

“T-that is not what happened!” You suddenly cried out, trying to explain your own side of the story. Of all the people who know your dirty and shameful secret, Izana is the worst person, with how much he hates you. “It was a mistake! I tried to tell him I didn’t want it but I couldn’t-”

“Ah ah -” Izana cuts you off, tilting your chin higher with the gun. “Don’t lie to me. That skirt you wore was too short. You were practically sending him an invitation to fuck you.”

“No! I wasn’t trying to do anything, I just wanted to talk-”

“Really? Cause I watched the full video, you were practically pushing your thighs together, trying to get his attention-”

“No, no I- didn’t… I pushed him off the first time-”

“You were dangling your thighs like a piece of meat for him to fuck and then acted like you didn’t want it until he was knuckles deep inside you. The way you were moaning didn’t sound like a girl being assaulted. You sounded like you wanted it.”

“That’s not true-” your lips start to tremble at his words, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. You didn’t want to be assaulted, you just wanted to talk to him about the Emma issue and you wanted to apologise. “That’s not true-”

“Oh but it is.” He said firmly, now leaning in closer to your face until there’s barely any inches between the two of you. “If you truly wanted to talk you would have been more modest. We warned you that outfits like those are an invitation, but you decided we insulted you and turned our sister against us.”

“No-” your voice is small, trying to defend yourself but even you are beginning to doubt your own credibility with how he keeps twisting the narrative around until you begin to actually believe him.

‘No! Don’t let him make you think you’re in the wrong! You know what happened!’

“He even told you to leave but you refused to. Like you were baiting him to just do something bad to you so that you can tell everyone how bad Mikey is and make yourself get more sympathy points. 'Oh look, the Sano brothers struck again!' That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“That’s not true! I would never do that to Mikey!” You don’t realise your tempo had suddenly gotten high or that tears had started to drip down your face, but Izana did. He doesn’t point it out, staying quiet as you start to shout at him. “I didn’t tell anyone because it would cause problems and I would never bait him into hurting me. I just wanted to make up with him because I felt that I overreacted at the party I swear! And then he assaulted me in the car -”

“But if he “assaulted” you, why didn’t you tell anyone? If that’s what truly-”

“Because I love him!”

Oh no. The words flew out of your mouth before you could even stop yourself from saying them. But before you could correct yourself, Izana hammers another nail into the coffin with his next words.

“The same way your big brother loved you, right?”

You feel weak. You’ve never told anyone that before, not even Emma. It’s a part of you that you chose to keep buried at the bottom of your heart, pretending it never existed.

“Please, Izana, pleas-”

“Did I ever tell you that I know you?” He suddenly snapped, his voice menacing. “I’ve known you from the second you stepped foot in this school. I know your sob story -the one you tell everyone, how your parents’ kicked you out for not marrying an older man. How you were homeless, living in shelters as you worked up money to go to college until you made something for yourself-”

He paused, now leaning further into your face until you smell the marijuana on his breath, his dark eyes peering at you. “But no one knows the true story. That your parents didn’t kick you out, you left.” You start to shake as he tells you the story of how your semi-peaceful life went downhill.

“Izana please stop-”

“It was your eighteenth birthday and you never quite got along with your brothers, especially the oldest one, Michael was it? Seems like you have a thing for Michael’s or rather the other way around.”

“Stop it, please-”

“So Michael and your other brothers told you that if you wanted them to like you that you’d let their college friends talk to you. You went along with it, hung around your brothers and their friends and everything was fine, until you felt tired after drinking some juice that Michael gave you-”

You hate this. You don’t even know how he found out about this part of your life, or how long he’s been holding it until he could use it but you need the story to end now, you don’t want to relieve your trauma. “You’ve made your point. I lied about running away because I was scared. Please, please-”

“Shhh,” He pushes the gun to your lips until your pleas are muffled noises. “don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt someone while they’re telling a story? As I was saying, Michael offered to carry you to your room, because you felt so tired, you couldn’t move. And oh, you poor, dumb fool. You had no idea what was going to happen that night to you as your big bro took you to his room-”

You suddenly burst into tears and without thinking, shoved the gun out from your mouth to beg him. “Stop it! Stop! I get it! I won’t tell anyone what happened between me and Mikey. Please don’t finish that story!”

Izana stops and you sigh, still not out of the woods yet, but at least you’re sure he won’t say anything else-

A scream rips from your throat as you feel his veiny palms drag you by your hair violently, to the bed. You feel like a ragdoll as he throws you onto the bee, before climbing on top of you right after. “Izana stop! STOP I-”

Your voice catches in your throat the second he switches off the safety of the gun and points it towards your window, pressing the trigger twice. You scream as the bullets pierce through the window, shattering the glass completely, and clamp a hand over your mouth when he points the gun back at you, his eyes narrowed in anger.

“Please, please, please-”

“You don’t want to hear the truth, fine. I’ll show you what your brother did to you instead, but if you as much as piss me off one more fucking time, I’ll shoot you.”

You freeze in place as he starts to lift up your long skirt with one hand until he exposes your panties. You hear him fumble with his belt buckle, having kept the gun out of your reach behind him and he pulls his black jeans enough to only expose his half-mast clothed dick.

He was getting off on imagining you being assaulted. You feel sick.

You blank out as your legs are spread apart, by his two hands, and he pushes his entire weight on you, until his crotch is pressed into yours. Shame fills you as he starts to grind against your clothed pussy, the stimulation having an undesired effect on your clit and you turn your head just not to look at him.

With each roll of his hips, you feel his thick length rub against your poor nub, wetness leaking through your panties and staining his boxers. Izana smirks at your distress, growing fully hard at how wet you’ve become from just him humping you. He leans down to your ear, hot breath hitting your neck and starts to taunt you “It’s a shame your father caught him before he could continue. He could have seen how slutty his sister was.”

You try to keep your mouth shut, tears rolling down your cheeks as he gets himself off but he wants to hear you and raises your hips higher until you're flush against his aching cock. He bucks his hips into yours at a faster pace now, targeting your clit with each thrust, coupled with his warm breath ticking your skin. The wetness has made the cotton of your panties thin, making you feel his movements until you can't stop your moans mixed with tears from spilling out of your lips.

“Iza-na please s-stop-”

He only chuckles in response to your misery. There’s just something so satisfying to him about seeing you, the girl who made Emma call him a fucking bastard beg him for mercy. Unfortunately for you, it isn’t enough for him to make you relive your trauma, no, he wants to make you really, really hurt.

“You wouldn’t have been begging me to stop if you had just let me finish my story.” He whispers against your skin, rocking his hips slower now, in circular motions. “Or maybe you hate hearing the truth about being the problem. You should have been less prettier, less provocative-”

Your skin crawls at his words and you want to protest but you lack the ability to keep yourself and your thoughts composed as he is doing right now. “It’s your fault this kind of thing keeps happening to you. You keep making men the worst versions of themselves. Your brother, for example, was a good Christian boy until you hit puberty and all of a sudden, he couldn’t keep his hands off his dick when you’re around. Mikey had never, ever forced a girl to do something with him, he didn’t need to.”

You feel ill. You didn’t mean for the incident with your brother to happen, you had no idea he felt that way, with how he violently beat you whenever you did something wrong. You didn’t know Mikey looked at you that way either, you thought he hated you. How were you meant to know anything?

Yet, it’s still your fault. Just you, only you.

“You’re not protesting it.” He articulates with timed thrusts. Your thighs are trembling underneath his grip, meaning you’re close, but your mind is not here, it's soaking up, his every confession of how he feels. “So you know what you do to everyone. Even your father, who was a good man, always got angry with you. But despite your faults, and despite what you did to your brother he wanted to keep you and offered for you to help your brother by marrying that old man and you know what you did? You ran.”

‘I ran. I ran away like a coward.’

Your mind is numb, your body feels overwhelmed, electricity running up your body as Izana guides your hips up and down his clothed shaft, tethering you to the edge, relishing every last whimper and moan you let out. “You ran away from a family that you were given for free, I would kill to have lived with my family, no matter how shit they were. Last I heard, your brother brings girls that look like you home. Because you didn’t stay in your lane to fix your family. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“So-rry.” It comes out of your mouth before you realise it. Maybe you should be sorry for the things you have done. For making them do all those horrific things to you. “I’m sorry” you sob, choking on your words as you repeat it over and over again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry-”

You’re still babbling when you finally twitch in his hands, cumming all over his boxers with a quiet yelp until you can’t anymore. You’re still out of it when he pulls out his dick from his confines briefly, jerking it off and to cum all over your panties and thighs not too long after.

When you come to it eventually, he dresses properly and leaves you with his twisted handiwork. The feeling of humiliation and dirtiness hangs over your head. You feel so much shame and humiliation, like there’s dirt underneath your skin that no amount of washing would make you clean. All those things Izana said to you, the memory of your own brother assaulting you and having to relive it again feels too heavy to bear, to live with.

You’re not sure you want to live in a world where Izana has all this information about you.

Something drops on your lap and you see it’s the gun that he had threatened you with earlier. “A quick bullet to the head can do the trick. You’re guaranteed to die. If you’re dead, no one will ever know what we discussed here.” He says nonchalantly, walking past you and knocks thrice on the door before turning around to face you again. “Or if you hate me so much now, you can shoot me right here” he points at the heart. “And your secrets die with me. Not even your precious Mikey knows this.”

You realise it’s one of his sick mind games, the kind an unfair god plays for his own amusement, but at this point, you don’t care. You just want an out of this world, of being blamed for things you can’t control. Everything is your fault and if you die, maybe things will go back to normal.

And you’ll never have to face Izana again.

The door opens as you begin to pick up the gun, and Kakucho attempts to run towards you, possibly to protect Izana, only for the white haired man to shove him backwards. The two men watch, one with pure horror and one with pure amusement as you slowly press the barrel of the gun to your temple, tears rolling down your eyes.

“WAIT DON’T-”

You press the trigger before he could finish his sentence.

Bonus:

“You should have seen her face when she realised there was no bullet in the gun. Kept begging me to give her one so that she could die.”

The laughter between Izana and the rest of Tenjiku sounded like roaring in Kakucho’s ears. He and Mochizuki were the only ones who didn’t find what Izana did to you funny. He hated when Izana did things like this to innocent people like you. It was agonising to hear you cry and beg him every step of the way, even to the point of apologising for things that aren’t even your fault.

Kakucho had raised some concerns about leaving you alone in the room, as you could hurt yourself, which would be detrimental to them as they still need you alive to further manipulate things to their favour. Eventually, they decided to take you back to Tenjiku’s house and lock you in Izana’s bedroom.

Still not ideal, but it’s protected.

“Bet she cries pretty, yeah?” Ran asks, after the laughter died down. “She looks like someone who cries a lot, boss.”

“Her crying face is the prettiest I’ve ever seen, but her cumming face is better. I’ve got pictures to prove it-”

“I can’t deal with this shit anymore. I’m off to bed” Mochizuki groans, pushing himself up to leave. Kakucho couldn’t blame him, the atmosphere was toxic, laughing at your suffering for no reason. The last time he left you, you were hugging your knees to your chest, crying. He feels like a piece of shit for stalking you and then trapping you in the room with Izana of all people.

But he did it anyway, so he can’t act like he’s a saint. He was an accomplice.

“Can you check on (name) before you go to your room?” Kakucho all but pleads. He isn’t sure he could face you after what he did to you. Mochi nods and walks away.

He thinks about the first time he met you. He could only watch from afar, admiring the way you smiled, how quiet you were compared to everyone else. You were in your own world. Izana never liked you, all Kakucho knows is that Izana hates you for throwing away the thing he valued the most, your family. But you never knew that and it hurt him to see you be punished for a crime you do not know of.

It didn’t help that you were pretty, so while you were Izana’s “type” quiet, obedient, something he could break, Izana also struggled with his hatred for you. Perhaps if you were never friend’s with Emma, he would have avoided you -

“FUCK, STOP, DON’T JUMP!”

Mochizuki’s scream cut through the entire house, interrupting the discussion. The executives instantly stood up and ran in the direction of Izana’s room, where the noise came from only to be greeted by a rather gruesome sight.

You used Izana’s Egyptian silk bed sheets to hang yourself.

Mochizuki had already rushed to your unconscious body, holding you up so that you don’t cut off your air flow and Kakucho found himself untying it from the ceiling fan as quickly as possible and the makeshift noose from your neck too.

Everything felt like a fever dream, a bad one he couldn’t wake up from as Rindou started CPR on you, with Kisaki on the phone, yelling for an ambulance while Izana counted for Rindou.

“She’s breathing again, it wasn’t too long she was suspended. She’ll live... right?”

A terrible nightmare.

special thanks to: (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form.): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @kodzubaby @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @pikibee @tomeyano @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @m0onz1 @hapikiou @rainnyzz @Lovelyartistz @lik0 @maraya-007 @thisismarisaaa @reeyy0-2 @littlemisspropaganda @cherie026

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