#also that he stabbed a man with a fork

[pennyserenade]

cillian murphy villains, my beloved little freaks

[sunsburns]

good luck, babe!

pairing: tashi duncan x fem!reader x patrick zweig x art donaldson

summary: patrick zwieg invites tashi duncan and art donaldson to join him at your engagement party. you think they came to celebrate you and your new chapter and put the past behind you, rebuilding lost friendships, but tashi hopes to stop you from marrying a man you never wanted.

—or: the trio crashes your engagement party

word count: 10k+ (i have a serious problem)

contains: SMUT 18+, smut with a lot of plot, post-challengers movie, fluff & comfort, angst, tashi’s pov but lowkey get's mixed up around the end, foursome, oral (fem receiving), oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sed (wrap it before yall tap it), homewrecking, cheating but also not cheating but also a worse third thing, three-way make out, four-way make out, dom!tashi, patrick being nasty, art being a loser, no use of y/n, situationship that lasts 13 years.

author’s note: this fic is based on this request with inspo from the greatest song on earth: good luck, babe! it was supposed to be a quick smut blurb but at this point, you all know i can’t write smut without some kind of angsty plot. everyone is super messy and there is some of the dirtiest smut i’ve written so far (it’s only going to get worse from here). this one is a roller coaster.

It didn't make sense to any of them, how you could've possibly ended up with him. 

Tashi remembered him from Stanford vividly. He came from a white-collared family, with daddy's money that bought him everything he could've ever asked for, yet he still wanted more. He played golf and polo and even dabbled with tennis but never had enough guts or skill to take it seriously. But his dad funded most of the programs and events at the school, so everyone had known him, his charm, his family, and his inability to stick to one thing even outside of sports. He clung onto a new girl every other week, a new girl wrapped around his finger only to be ultimately tossed aside like the rest of them.

"What a dick," Tashi remembered you saying once, stabbing your fork into your salad while glaring daggers at him from across the cafeteria as he bragged loudly to his fan club about how he beat you in a game of tennis. 

Which he didn't. 

You let him win. 

His parents had been paying you to coach him, paid you extra every time you let him win a set or two against you, even if it was off the record. God knows you needed the money.

"I think I'm gonna quit." You said, turning back to glance at Tashi.

"About damn time," she snickered, shaking her head. "I told you you're wasting your time with him when you could be doing something better. Like training with me."

You had rolled your eyes and poked her arm with your fork, "If I'm still trailing after him this time next week, shoot me in the head and put me out of my misery."

Almost thirteen years later, you're walking around with his ring on your finger at your engagement party. A party where your fiancé announced your upcoming retirement after a tennis career run that Tashi would’ve killed for: a six-time US Open winner; two-time gold medalist at the Olympics; and brand deals that would ensure you and the next four generations of your family lived happily under your trust fund.

Clearly, you weren't marrying him for his money.

It made Tashi anxious, because, in some way, she could see that the marriage you will have with your fiancé is far too similar to how Tashi's would have been if she and Patrick stayed together. 

Okay, maybe that was a reach.

Or maybe it's how it would've been if neither of you had gone up to Art and Patrick's hotel room that night. Or maybe it would've been Tashi's ring on your finger instead.

She couldn't shake the bitter taste in her mouth as she watched you laugh with him, your eyes lighting up in the way they always did when you were truly happy. It used to be her who made you smile like that. She remembered the late-night practices, the shared victories, and the quiet moments shared in the comfort of her dorm room. She remembered the promises you both made and dreams of dominating the tennis world together.

But she shouldn't dwell on the past, she shouldn't think about what-ifs. At least that's what Art tells her with a hand on her shoulder. Tashi glances at his hand, noting the wedding band that rests on his finger. The squeeze he gives is meant to be reassuring, but instead, it feels suffocating.

"I'll never know how he bagged her," Patrick tuts from her other side, a drink already in his hand. He holds it close to his mouth, biting the rim of the glass before taking a swig, his eyes never leaving you. His gaze is shameless, tracing the way your dress hugs your curves, how your hair shines under the chandelier lights, and the way your lips move as you speak.

"Lucky, lucky man..." Patrick shakes his head, a bitter edge to his voice.

A waiter passes by, offering hors d'oeuvres, and Patrick takes enough for the three of them for himself, setting his empty glass on the platter. As he stuffs an appetizer in his mouth, he begins to walk away, his eyes fixed on you.

"Where do you think you're going?" Art asks, his hand slipping from Tashi's shoulder.

Patrick spins around, mouth full, and shrugs. "To congratulate the future bride."

Art and Tashi stand there, watching, almost dumbfounded when they see Patrick sneak up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you into the air. You shriek, champagne spilling from your glass, but once you see who it is, a wide smile breaks across your face.

"Patrick!" Tashi can hear you from across the hall. Patrick lifts you again, hoisting you into the air. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he spins you around, your laughter ringing out—a sweet melody that draws the attention of everyone nearby. "You made it!"

Tashi feels a pang of surprise. 

You and Patrick had been in closer contact than she imagined. It stings, a reminder of the distance that had grown between you after her injury, much like the distance that had grown between Art and Patrick. She never knew you had turned to Patrick for comfort. Though it made sense—Patrick was the one you invited, not her, not Art. Patrick was the one who had to ask if he could bring two guests instead of the traditional plus-one. 

But surely, you must have known that if you invited Patrick, Tashi and Art would come too, right? 

Right? 

The question churns a pit of dread in her stomach as Art starts to lead her closer to you out of courtesy.

Patrick's arms are wrapped tightly around your torso, his hand resting too low to be innocent, but you seem happy nonetheless. Happier in Patrick's arms than in the arms of your future husband. You embrace him close, the ring on your finger glimmering under the chandelier lights as you hold onto the back of his neck, your laughter finally subsiding as the spinning stops.

As Tashi and Art approach, the reality of the situation hits her harder. She's watching from the outside, a spectator to your happiness, feeling the sting of what could have been. She forces a smile; your engagement to the worst person in the world can't possibly be the thing that makes her break. Not after everything she's built since she started coaching.

Art tries to catch your eye, offering a polite smile once you let go of Patrick. "Hey."

"Hi," you say breathlessly, a bright smile across your face while Patrick swings his arm over your shoulder. You seem happy, almost relieved that Tashi and Art were here as if you doubted their attendance. "Wow, it's been so long. You guys look great."

"Thanks," Tashi finally says, the words weighing on her tongue like lead.

"You look beautiful," Art tells you, and it's rushed as if he's been trying to keep it to himself but couldn't help it once he was close enough to you.

Before you can get a word out, another arm wraps around your waist, discreetly pushing Patrick away from you to slide into your side. Patrick lets out an annoyed groan, stepping aside as your fiancé squeezes you tightly and says, "She does, doesn't she? Hey, killer."

You turn to him, about to say something, maybe greet him back, maybe introduce him to everyone. But he doesn't let you, he's leaning closer until his lips lock with yours. It takes you by surprise—you flinch at first before finally letting him kiss you properly, his hand cupping the back of your neck, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible.

Art lets out a low, awkward sigh while watching it happen before him, and Patrick rolls his eyes, stepping back in search of a waiter for another drink.

He holds onto you like you're a prize he's won. Almost as if he's been competing with everyone in the world to finally hold you and show you off. As if that's all you had to offer.

You blink, clearly embarrassed, as you clear your throat to disperse the awkward tension in the air. "These are some, uh," you stumble over your words before nodding towards Art, Tashi, and Patrick, "some old friends from college. I'm sure you remember—"

He's interrupting you again, reaching out with the hand that's not on you to shake Tashi's hand. He holds it tightly, his thumb pressing against her wedding ring. "Tashi Duncan, how could I ever forget? Still beautiful as ever."

She has to force herself to smile, for your sake. "Good to see you too—"

"You know," your fiancé starts, cutting her off, "I still remember the time you told me to suck a bag of dicks 'cause I took up your court time. Best day of my life."

"Yeah," Patrick laughs. He's found another glass of champagne to sip on, and it's by his lips when he says, "who doesn't love getting cussed out by Tashi."

You wince. "Patrick—"

"No, no. He's right. It's one out of a million. I took it as a compliement," your fiancé says, glancing at Tashi again, his eyes darting up and down, lingering on her wedding ring once more before she finally pulls her hand out of his grasp. He spots the arm Tashi has been clinging to. "Art Donaldson, I'm a big fan."

Art stiffens as if taken by surprise. "Really?"

Your fiancé is nodding, and when Art glances your way for a split second, he tugs you closer. "You're incredible. Watching you play, it's like, woah! He's killin' it out there. Too bad you've retired though, would've loved to see you play longer."

There's a faint redness to Art's face when he nods. "Oh, thank you."

"I've always wondered if I'd turn out the way you did if I stuck to tennis." Then he laughs, nudging your side. "If only this one put me to work like Tashi did to you, maybe we would've competed in the US Open a few times."

You snort and shake your head, the idea of watching the two of them even standing on the court together amusing you. "You couldn't beat Art if you tried."

Your fiancé shrugs. "Maybe Patrick."

"Stop kidding yourself. You can't even beat your nephew and he's twelve."

He hums, turning so that he'll face you. He holds your waist with both hands, caressing you gently. "You sure know your way into a man's heart, baby," he says lowly before kissing you again. It's rough and messy, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You shriek and press your hands against his chest. He doesn't let go immediately, peeking a glance towards the trio while kissing you.

Tashi feels a knot of disgust tightening in her stomach. The audacity of him to touch you like that in front of them, as if he’s marking his territory, sets her blood boiling just a little bit. God, did no one teach this guy any kind of etiquette?

She catches Art's expression out of the corner of her eye—his jaw is clenched as he turns to look away. Patrick's lips curl in a sneer, the glass in his hand trembling slightly. He fights the urge to throw it.

Your fiancé reaches down and gropes your ass over your silky white dress before finally separating from you.

You stand there, looking flushed and embarrassed, letting him whisper something in your ear before he walks off, joining a group of men who whistle and catcall at him as he nears them. Each jeer and hoot feels like a slap to the face.

"Uh, sorry," you apologize, unable to meet their eyes as you blindly wipe at your chin to fix your lipstick. "That was... I don't know what's gotten into him. He's not usually like this. He's, uh... he's great."

Patrick scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, real great."

Tashi can’t help but frown, her heart aching as she watches you fumble. "You can't possibly want to marry him," she wants to say, but the words get stuck in her throat. She can't bear to hear the answer, especially if it's the one she fears.

Art steps forward, his face a careful mask of neutrality. "If you’re happy," he says, but there's an edge to his tone, a challenge. The unspoken words hang heavily in the air: "Are you?"

You nod quickly, too quickly, as if trying to convince yourself as much as them. "Sure, sure. I mean, what’s not to be happy about? His family loves me. I'm retiring this year, and gonna spend more time with my family. Hopefully more time with some old friends?"

"Old friends?" Tashi repeats, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. The casual way you say it, as if years of distance and silence can be bridged with a few meetings, stings more than she cares to admit.

"Yeah, before I get busy with the baby."

"Baby?" Patrick's voice is sharp, almost disbelieving. "You’re pregnant?"

"What? No!" You quickly sputter, shaking your head. Then you pause, a thought crossing your mind and you lighten up a little bit, a hopeful smile gracing your face, "But I do want kids one day. I want three."

"Does he want kids?"

"We've talked about it, but he shuts it down all the time."

"You poor thing." Patrick puffs out, pinching your arm before reaching for your hand and leading you toward the bar. "Let's bring this conversation outside, ladies. I need a smoke. And you all need a drink stronger than his champagne."

The idea of fresh air and a strong drink is appealing. After grabbing a bottle of finely aged wine, the four of you make your way to the garden outside the grand hall. The shift from the stuffy indoor atmosphere to the cool night air is a relief. 

The moonlight casts a silvery glow over the meticulously maintained garden, illuminating the path with a soft, ethereal light. You glow in your pretty white dress, the fabric shimmering as you take a seat on a patch of grass near the rose bushes. The scent of roses mingles with the crisp night air, creating a tranquil yet poignant backdrop. You glance up at the three of them who stand there, watching you.

Tashi raises a brow as you take a long swig of the wine. She didn't remember you to be much of a drinker. 

"It's not that big of a deal," you say, passing her the bottle when she finally sits next to you. 

It's as if her movement had woken the two guys and then Art takes a seat on your other side while Patrick lies down on the grass a few feet away to light a cigarette. 

You pout, "If he doesn't want kids, then we won't have kids."

"But you want kids," Tashi reminds you, but it's more of a question as if she's wondering if that's truly what you want. Don't get her wrong, Tashi loves being a mother, she would kill anyone for Lily, but you wanting kids barely before confirming your retirement threw her off a little bit.

"Of course I do." You hiccup, reaching for the bottle again. "I'm not getting any younger. It's just... he'll come around."

"And if he doesn't?" Art asks, his voice gentle but probing.

"Can we not talk about that right now? I just want to get shitfaced and party."

"Now we're talkin'!" Patrick interjects, his grin wide as he takes a drag from his cigarette. The embers glow briefly in the dark.

"Come on, everybody gather." Patrick flicks his cigarette off to the rocky pathway and snags the bottle from Art's hands. He raises it, nodding at you with that same smirk he's had for years. Snarky, cocky, and yet endearing. "To celebrate new beginnings. Even if your future husband's a dick and can't make you cum nearly half as hard as I can. Good luck, babe."

The rest of you all make a noise of annoyance, rolling your eyes. "Seriously?"

"Shut the fuck up, Patrick," Art scoffs, though there's a faint smile tugging at his lips as you let a giggle slip out past your fake annoyance.

Patrick's smile only widens at the sound of his friends' protests. It reminds him of the good old years when his biggest worry was which shorts he'd wear to his next game. "Cheers!"

As the bottle is passed around, Tashi can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with bitterness. The comradery of the past clashes painfully with the reality of the present. Is this how things are going to be like now? Is this night a call for a truce, waving the white flag so that all of you could be friends again, now as adults, making plans for brunch and getting the kids together for birthday parties?

You take another sip from the bottle, your gaze drifting towards the moonlit sky. "To new beginnings," you repeat softly, though the hope in your voice is tinged with uncertainty.

Tashi leans back, her eyes lingering on you, a mix of longing and regret pooling in her heart. Art sits quietly beside her, lost in his thoughts, while Patrick’s laughter rings out, masking deeper sentiments beneath his forced cheerfulness. The chatter and music from the hall spill into the garden, the warm lights casting a golden glow over the scene. Patrick talks animatedly about the seasons he thinks he has left in him, and to Tashi's annoyance, you encourage him.

She shakes her head at the way Patrick's eyes light up, glancing at her with a knowing look. Despite her irritation, she can't deny the comfort of slipping back into their old dynamic.

Suddenly, Art hums thoughtfully. He has been mostly quiet, listening to the conversation with occasional quiet laughs. Now, as he puts down the empty bottle of wine, he looks at you, his eyes more alive than they have been in a long time. "I had a burger for the first time in years," he announces, a smile spreading across his face as if he is proud of it.

You gasp, perking up as you reach over to hold his hands. "How was it?"

"Amazing," Art says fondly, "like heaven inside a bun."

"You should've seen him," Tashi smirks, shoulder to shoulder with Patrick, playfully kicking Art. "He was drooling just looking at the menu."

He rolls his eyes, "I wasn't drooling." When you fall silent, he looks at you again, frowning. "You haven't had one in a while, have you?"

You shake your head, "No, I think the last time I had one was when we graduated."

Patrick scoffs, "Bullshit."

You laugh, "It's true! I've been very strict with my diet. And now that I've retired... I don't know..." You shrug, suddenly getting shy as Art starts tracing stars against the back of your hand. "There are so many options, I wouldn't know where to start."

"It doesn't have to be anything fancy," Tashi says.

"Pretty sure I saw an old diner on the way here," Patrick suggests. He stands, stretching and groaning before bending over to take Tashi's hand and help her up.

You sputter, watching them all start to stand before you. "Shut up, we're not driving, you're drunk."

"But sober enough to see how badly you want this," Patrick teases, waving a finger near your face and smirking. "You're drooling."

"No, I'm not!"

"Sure you are," Art joins in, pulling you up to your feet. He swipes a thumb at your chin, "Look right there, by your lip."

"Oh," Tashi grins, "I see it."

"Shut up, Tash, no you don't." The words fall from your lips before you can stop them. The old nickname fits too smoothly as if it hasn't been years since you've called her that. Tashi smiles, feeling like a teenager again, messing around with you. She starts to walk off, Art and Patrick following her while you stand there, dumbfounded and a little breathless from their teasing.

"Where are you going?"

"To get a burger?" Tashi shrugs, and she smirks at you, a mischievous smile that makes you wonder if any of you have ever grown up at all. "You coming or what?"

You try to be reasonable, "I can't just leave."

"We'll bring you back before anyone notices," Patrick bargains, jogging back to your side and taking your arm to lead you to the exit. "Lighten up, when was the last time you had some fun?"

You don't even look back.

You find yourself laughing, nodding as the four of you make your way out of the garden. The moonlight guides your steps, casting long shadows on the path.

The walk is a blur of laughter and shared stories, the kind of carefree joy that you haven't felt in years. Before long, you arrive at the diner. The neon lights buzz softly, casting a nostalgic glow over the parking lot. You can smell the greasy, comforting aroma of burgers and fries even before you step inside.

The few people in the diner stare, watching as what seems to be a runaway bride and three wedding guests stumble and giggle over each other, lips a little purple from the wine you've all had and ordering burgers to go.

Once you have your food, you all find yourselves sitting on the curb of the diner's parking lot, the warm night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Patrick hands out the burgers, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light as he makes a show of presenting yours to you. "First bite in... how many years?"

"Too many," You take the burger with a chuckle, unwrapping it and taking a bite. "Oh my God," you mumble around your mouthful, "this is amazing."

Tashi watches you, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Told you."

Art takes a bite of his own burger, nodding in agreement. "There's nothing like it."

You shake your head, going in for more, "This is the greatest thing I've put in my mouth."

Patrick, already halfway through his, lets out a loud laugh, "Yeah, I bet."

The parking lot felt like a little bubble of the past, untouched by the years that had separated you. It was strange how easy it was to fall back into the rhythm of your old friendships, how natural it felt to banter and laugh as if no time had passed at all.

Tashi rolls her eyes, though you don't even seem phased by Patrick's joke. "I can't even get mad," you say, swallowing, "I feel like I'm eighteen again."

"Tell me about it," Art agrees. Then he pauses for a beat, chewing on her burger a little slower before turning to you. "You know, this reminds me of that time... when, you know."

"Oh," You snort and nod, scrunching up your face at the memory. "Yeah. It kinda does."

"What?" Patrick looks between the two of you, raising his brow in interest. "What time?"

"It was a long time ago," you tell him.

"Like back in Stanford," Art explains, and then he points between Tashi and Patrick with his burger, "when you two were still a thing."

Tashi sits up straight now, her full attention on you and Art. "Oh, really?"

"It was that time Patrick came for a surprise visit in the middle of our girls' night," you say, nodding your head at her, hoping she'd catch up with the memory. "And you kicked me out of your dorm so you and Patrick could... you know."

Tashi nods. "Have some alone time." She finishes for you.

She remembers that night well: you were both nestled in the haven of her dorm room, the soft glow of the television casting gentle shadows on the walls as the movie played on. You were curled up under her covers, your bodies intertwined, legs tangled together in a comforting knot. The world outside ceased to exist in those moments, leaving just the two of you in your little cocoon of comfort.

Tashi can still feel the sensation of your fingers running through her hair, the tender, rhythmic motion soothing her in a way nothing else could. The warmth of your touch lingered on her scalp, your fingers traced lazy patterns, and she remembered the way her body instinctively relaxed into yours.

But then came the knock on the door, and she felt her heart jump at her throat as she swung her legs out from under the covers and padded softly to the door.

When she opened the door, there stood Patrick, his presence almost surreal. He was holding a bouquet of carefully picked-out flowers, their vibrant colours contrasting sharply with the dim light of the hallway. His smirk was both nervous and charming

"You kicked her out?" Patrick gasps, and Tashi gives him a blank stare. He's acting as if he wasn't even there, as if he didn't stand by her desk while watching her scramble to clean up the mess the two of you made in her dorm and shove you out the door before locking it.

Patrick shrugs, that stupid smirk painted on his lips again before he finishes his burger. "Would've let you stay if it were up to me," he tells you, "The more, the merrier."

"No way," you poke your tongue at the inside of your cheek. "She wanted you all for herself."

"Please, I would've been too distracted with you to even give him my time of day," Tashi admits. "I did you a favor, Patrick. Saved you from blue balls."

He holds a hand to his heart. "I'm so honored."

"But anyway," you start, "while I was walking back to my dorm I bumped into Art, who got stood up on a date."

Patrick blinks, turning to Art. "You got stood up?"

"Was it that girl from marketing?" Tashi asks.

Art's cheeks start to turn red, the flush growing from his neck and up to his ears at the attention. "Yeah, she, uh, she bailed on me last minute."

"I remember you telling me the date went well," Patrick says. "That you guys went out late, bought takeout... you made out in your car," Then, to fuck with him, he adds, "You came in your pants 'cause she kissed your neck. Remember?"

"And that did happen," Art confesses begrudgingly, glaring at Patrick while Tashi laughs. "It’s just... it wasn't with her..."

"It... it was me," you admit.

Tashi wishes she could say she's surprised, but it's nearly impossible because anyone who knew you back in college knew very well about the big crush you harboured for a certain blonde. She knew the way you swooned after him, even if you never tried to admit it because it was too embarrassing.

"Wait, so," Tashi starts, poking at your side and drawing a nervous giggle from you. It makes her smile. "Is Art that guy you told me about, with the puppy eyes and pretty smile?"

"Okay," you puff out, blushing, "I did not say puppy eyes."

"You think I have puppy eyes?" Art asks you, his gaze softening.

When you take a few seconds too long to answer, Patrick claps his hands together and swings his arm over yours and Art's shoulders, pulling the two of you closer to him. "Aw," he teasingly coos at the two of you getting all flustered, "you think he has puppy eyes."

"It was so long ago," you say, running your hands over the soft fabric of your dress. "I don't even remember."

"I'm so sure you don't," Patrick hums, a knowing look in his eyes before he presses a sloppy kiss against your cheek.

You groan, shoving your hand in his face to push him off before you stumble to stand on your feet again, wiping your cheek from his spit. "You're disgusting," you huff, but there's no real bite in your words because there's a faint smile threatening to appear at the corners of your lips. 

You stand there for a beat or two, brushing off your dress and feeling the weight of the night settling in. You stare down at the three of them sitting on the curb, the neon lights of the diner buzzing behind you. You can see the hall where your engagement party is from where you stand; you almost don't want to go back.

"Okay," you tuck your lower lip between your teeth as you hesitate, "this... this has been fun."

"Don't leave yet," Tashi says while Art's smile drops, his face falling in disappointment.

"Yeah," Patrick rushes to stand, reaching for you, "the party was just getting started."

"I really have to get back," you step away. "If anyone finds out I left, I'll hear about it for days. This has been great. Like, seriously, I don't think I've ever laughed this hard since before..." You trail off, your tongue getting tied as you glance at Tashi, then at her knee, covered by the length of her dark purple dress. You clear your throat. "Well, uh, I better go. But thank you again, for the beer and the burgers and the memories. I hope you guys can make it to the wedding."

You start to walk away before they can say anything. Like, on purpose, as if you know that if they tried to make you stay and ditch your party, you would. You would cave to their defences.

The sound of your heels is deafening. Tashi watches you go, she watches how you wrap your arms around yourself, and it all feels too similar to how she watched you go all those years ago and never chased after you. 

"Don’t marry him," Tashi stands from the curb. She's shaky on her feet, taking long strides to walk past Patrick and hoping to catch up to you. She sees you freeze in your steps, barely out of the parking lot. You turn to look at her quickly, face falling in shock at her demand.

"What?" Your voice is quiet, hoping that your ears are betraying you.

Tashi slows down once she is close enough, the distance between you is almost nothing but the gap feels like miles. The red and blue lights from the neon sign blend into a deep purple against your skin, casting an ethereal glow that makes this moment feel suspended in time. She watches your face, sees the way your brows knit together, the flicker of anger and confusion in your eyes.

Her heart is pounding, the blood rushing in her ears almost drowning out her voice. But she forces herself to speak, her voice low and urgent. "Don’t marry him," she says again, each word feeling like it's being ripped from her chest. Her resolve, which had held firm all these years, finally crumbles.

Getting Patrick back into her life had been one of the most complicated, tangled pains she had ever undertaken. The late-night calls, the awkward meetings, the painstakingly slow rebuilding of trust between herself and Art. 

None of it had been easy.

Yet, even with Patrick back, there had always been something missing—a void that only you could fill.

She looks into your eyes, her gaze unwavering, despite the tears welling up. "Please," she pleads, her voice breaking. "Please, don't marry him." The words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea that carries years of longing and regret. She knows that having you back won't make up for the lost time, and won't magically fix all the mistakes and missed opportunities. But she can at least try, can at least fight for the chance to make things right.

"Tashi, you can't possibly be asking me to—"

"It’s not worth it," she tells you anyway, her voice trembling with the weight of unspoken truths. She knows it’s a risk, a gamble she's taking by laying her heart bare, but she can’t hold back any longer. The years of resentment, of silent longing, bubble to the surface, fueled by the sight of you with someone else's ring on your finger. It's a bitter pill to swallow, the realization that she resented you not for leaving, but for never coming back. 

Why didn't you come back?

Tashi's words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea born from years of unspoken desires and regrets. "Both of you want different things anyway. You don't love him," she continues, her voice raw with emotion, "it's not gonna last. One day you're gonna wake up in the middle of the night and realize I'm right. You'd hate to admit it, but I will be right. I am right. He doesn't deserve you. He's no good for you."

You scoff, "And you are?"

"You said it yourself," she presses on, her voice barely above a whisper, "You've never laughed the way you do with us. And you kept in touch with Patrick, so that's gotta mean something." It's a feeble attempt to grasp at straws. "Marrying him will just be another excuse, another stupid reason. I thought you were better than that."

Then she remembers that night before you left for London, back in 2012. It's like a distant memory now, a flicker of what could have been. The air was thick with anticipation, the tension palpable as you stood on the precipice of something new. She remembers the way your eyes met hers after your exchange with Art at the hotel bar, a brief greeting with an old friend, both of you at the peaks of your careers. It is a silent exchange of longing and regret. For a moment, it felt like time stood still, like the world was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

She remembers the smell of your perfume, the bitterness of the drink you were having and how she could taste it when she kissed you; tongue running over your teeth, nails clawing at skin, hair tangled between fingers, hot breaths and unkept promises and false apologies and a night of regret.

And then the morning came, and with it, you had to leave. And she never stopped you.

"Tashi… I can't just throw this all away for you. For any of you. You were the one who told me to leave."

"I know."

"Because you know everything, right? Because you know he's not good for me, you know it all."

"I know you."

"No, you don’t," you say, your voice tinged with hurt. "Not anymore.”

Tashi huffs, shaking her head before she reaches out, cupping your cheeks gently in her hands. Her lips hover over yours for a moment, a silent plea hanging in the air between you. She waits, her heart pounding in her chest, for you to make a move—to kiss her, to push her away, anything.

You gaze into her eyes, tears glistening in the dim light, before finally closing the distance between you. The kiss is tender, and bittersweet, a culmination of years of unspoken longing and regret. It's a brief moment of solace amid chaos.

Your hands dig into the nape of her neck, where the short ends of her dyed hair tickle the skin of your wrist. The heat of your engagement ring nearly burns her, the edge of the diamond scraping against her skin.

When you pull away, breathless, Tashi fears this will be the last time she will see you. 

"Tashi, this doesn’t change anything," you say, your voice trembling.

"It changes everything," she whispers, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You know it does."

But you step back, breaking the contact, the distance between you growing with each passing moment. "I have to go," you murmur, the weight of the decision heavy on your shoulders. "I need to think."

As you walk away, Tashi watches you go, her heart heavy with uncertainty. She clings to the memory of that fleeting moment, a glimmer of hope in the darkness. 

Back in the hotel room, an uneasy silence settles among the trio. Tashi steps out of the shower, her mind a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. The press of your lips still lingers on her own, a persistent buzz that crawls under her skin. 

As she rubs lotion into her arms, she takes her time, methodically moving over each inch of her skin as if she could somehow rub away the confusion and yearning. She finishes her skincare routine, staring at herself in the mirror, almost meeting the eyes of the eighteen-year-old girl who had her whole life ahead of her. It's a constant chant in her head not to dwell in the past. 

She has to focus—she needs to find a way to pull Patrick Zweig out of the top 200 ranks and get him qualified for the US Open by the time the next season starts.

Speaking of the devil, when Tashi steps out of the bathroom, she finds Patrick lounging on the loveseat by the open window. Naturally, his shirt has found itself a home on the floor, and a cigarette dangles from his lips.

He perks up when she walks out, sitting up to greet her, "Don't beat yourself up."

Tashi rolls her eyes and climbs into the bed, letting herself sink into the soft comforter. "Shut the fuck up, Patrick. And put that shit out."

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette out the window, grinning when he hears Tashi scoff. "She's a stubborn little shit," he says as the hotel door clicks open and Art walks in. Patrick hums, "Probably only marrying him to piss us off anyway. Been trying to talk her out of it for months. Never listens."

"She might listen to Tashi," Art says, turning to his wife with a hint of optimism in his voice. "Lily's asleep, by the way."

"Right, because my word is stronger than both of yours," Tashi retorts, pulling the blanket over her legs.

Art and Patrick glance at each other before nodding, "Yes."

"Well, yeah."

They all sit in silence for a while, each lost in their own little bubble. The hotel room is quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of the bedspread. 

Art joins Tashi on the bed, absently flipping through the channels on the television, the remote clicking softly in his hand. Beside him, Tashi pretends to read a book, her eyes scanning the same sentence over and over again without really absorbing the words. Meanwhile, Patrick rummages through the mini fridge, the sound of bottles clinking and wrappers crinkling breaking the stillness.

A quiet knock on the door makes the three of them freeze, their heads snapping up in unison. They exchange hesitant glances, each wondering if they imagined it. Then three raps against the wood sound again, more insistent this time. Patrick scrambles to the door, Art and Tashi close behind him, their curiosity piqued and their hearts pounding.

Patrick swings the door open, and there you are, a sight for sore eyes. You're still in the same dress, though one of the straps has fallen off your shoulder, and your makeup is smudged around your eyes. You hold your phone close, dropping it from your ear.

"I tried calling," you say, turning your phone so they can see Patrick's contact, a simple 'pat' with a cute tennis ball emoji next to his nickname. "You never answered."

"My phone died." He shrugs.

You let your hand fall to your front, where your fingers pull on each other nervously. Tashi can't help but notice the lack of a ring on your finger all of a sudden. She raises her brows at you, a knowing look flashing across her face before she tells you, "Something's changed."

You roll your eyes and step into the room, sliding between Art and Patrick easily. "A lot has changed." You walk until you reach the middle of the room. 

It's a big hotel room, not nearly as big as the ones Art and Tashi are used to staying in, but big and luxurious nonetheless. You fit in perfectly with your white gown and styled hair, a vision of elegance even in your dishevelled state.

You turn, facing the three of them again. "I hope whatever offer you guys were hinting at earlier still stands... I don't exactly have anywhere else to stay, unless I want to hear my mother telling me how she was right the entire night."

Tashi smirks. "You know I'm about to tell you the same thing too, right?" She closes the space between the two of you, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. Her nails brush against your jaw in a feather-light touch until her fingers pause below your lips.

"Yeah, I know."

You don't seem too upset about it. Instead, you're grinning, letting Tashi push her thumb between your lips. The gesture is intimate, charged with unspoken emotion. You're standing face-to-face when she says, "I told you so."

She leads you to sit on the bed, and you let her, nearly tripping over your heels before you land on the soft duvets. Tashi leans down, her nose brushing against yours, and you swallow your heart racing.

"You were right," you murmur. It's hard to maintain eye contact when your skin is buzzing with heat and when there's so much going on in the depths of her eyes that it dizzies you. "I hate it, though."

Her nose is cold against yours, a sharp contrast to the warmth of her breath. You let your eyes fall shut as she slowly traces patterns under your chin, pressing her thumb harder into your mouth before pulling it out. She catches the side of your face with it, making a mess with your spit.

She smiles, "I know you do."

Instinctively, and embarrassingly, there's a shiver rolling down your spine.

Tashi releases a small chuckle, and then, after a final moment, her lips fill in the small gap between you both. You sink into it immediately, heart rejoicing as her lips, warm and smooth, explore your own.

It's a little fumbly, nervous and making you tremble under her hands. Tashi loves every second of it. Her fingers grip your face tighter, mouth pressing to yours with more hunger as you wind your fingers into her hair and sigh. Between gasped breaths and soft sounds of enjoyment, she slips her tongue along your lower lip, and so you open your mouth a little wider.

Tashi ends up straddling you, making out like you're both teenagers again, putting on a show for Art and Patrick. The exhilarating butterflies twirling in your stomach match the memories, too. 

You moan softly as she pulls away from your mouth, her attention shifting to your neck. As you watch Patrick and Art make their way to sit next to you on the bed, the bed dipping, you tilt your head to the side and open up your throat to Tashi. You whimper as you feel her lips drag over your exposed skin. She nibbles and sucks until she finds the sensitive part that makes you cry out.

"Fuck," you whimper. You tug on her air-dried curls, coaxing her back up to your lips so you can enjoy the feeling of her mouth on yours. Tashi sighs, and you can feel her smiling into it while beckoning Art and Patrick to join in.

Their lips are on you in a split second, with Art pressing soft, ticklish kisses against your collarbone, and Patrick sliding his tongue from your shoulder to the back of your ear. He's moaning at the taste of you, sucking a bruise under your jaw while digging his hand into the back of your hair. 

He slowly starts to bring his sloppy kisses to your mouth, lips brushing against Tashi's and your own before she draws back. You whine, pouting as you watch her take a few steps away before making herself comfortable in the cushioned seats by a small dining table. You can't pout for too long, because now Patrick is kissing you, tugging softly at your hair until your back arches.

His tongue presses against yours, pressing as far back as he can reach, swallowing your every moan and whimper. You bring your hand up to scratch at his beard, then run your nails over his scalp. This is when Art starts to get a little bolder by running his hands up and down your thighs, pulling and pulling the long skirt of your dress until he reaches the end of it and he can touch your skin and take off your heels, tossing them aside somewhere.

Patrick traps your lower lip between his teeth, watching it bounce back into its place as he leans back just the slightest bit. You break apart with a whimper. Your half-lidded eyes meet his, then flick down to the trail of spit strung between your glistening lips. He stares at you, cheeks a little red as he smirks, "I've missed this. Missed you."

You smile, breathless as Art's hand makes its way up higher and higher and closer to your heat, his mouth is relentless with its attack at your neck. He grinds his crotch against the side of your leg and you cradle the back of his head with your other hand.

"You saw me last week, Patrick."

"Last week?" Art pulls away. His lips are parted, eyes a little dazed but focused enough to stare between you and Patrick in confusion. Tashi smirks from where she sits and shifts in her place.

"We're not all perfect, Art." You groan, rolling your eyes as Patrick laughs, reaching over you to start pulling down Art's pants who shifts in his place to let him. Once they're off, he looks at you, and it's embarrassing how fast you tangle together, melding together into a pathetic heap on the bed for Tashi and Patrick to see. 

Your lips move in tandem, his soft, pouty lips slitting against yours with ease as you lead his hands to your chest and shove them under your dress.

Art squeezes and fondles your breasts over your bra, his hips jerking against your leg again, almost desperate as his boner presses against the fabric of your dress as it has fallen down again.

Tashi startles you as she settles behind, one knee on the bed while her other long leg steadies her on the carpeted floor below. You let her tilt you backward, parting you from Art and she draws you into an upside-down kiss. The salacious kiss leaves your legs parting for the two men beside you. 

Patrick makes quick work of taking that damn dress off of you and you sputter out a pathetic moan when Art's soft hands tease your hardening nipples once Patrick gets half of it off.

Your dress eventually falls into a heap on the floor in front of the bed, you’d matched with it a white paired set underneath. 

"No fucking way," You peek one eye open slightly to see Patrick scowling while Art runs his hands everywhere he can reach, across your stomach, your thighs, under your boobs, down your back. 

Patrick tilts his head and groans, "I can't believe you wore this shit for him."

Your hand cups Tashi's jaw to deepen the kiss as you both ignore Patrick, only Art snorting out a laugh as he tugs his shirt over his head. 

Patrick slots himself between your open legs, stopping just a breath short of your aching cunt to nip teasingly at your soft inner thigh before dragging his mouth up to your neck again. He revels in the moans he's able to draw from you as he finally comes to caress your face. 

You pull away from Tashi and gasp in a breath. "Kiss me, Pat," You bite your lip, feeling your heart race as he eyes you up so openly. 

"Beg me," He counters with a quirked brow, challenging you. 

Your nose crinkles, "I'm not doing that."

"I'm not kissing you, then."

"Shut up and kiss her, Patrick," Tashi groans, attached to Art. She holds his face the same way she did with you, pulling him closer and letting the man crawl to her. But she's glaring at Patrick with venom behind it you know she can’t mean when she's trembling under Art's gentle touch as he slips off her silky nightgown.

"Come here," You beckon Patrick closer with a fiendish look in your half-lidded eyes.

"Yes, ma'am." Patrick nods, dazed as he obliges. "Anything you want, beautiful," His voice slightly slurs as the space between you diminishes once again. "I'll do anything for you," His husky voice drapes around your name like velvet as it's whispered against your plush lips.

Your hands easily find themselves tangled in Patrick's curly hair and tug him to your lips with aching want. You dive in immediately, lips meshing against and, eventually, catching against his chapped lips. 

A moan escapes from your throat and he uses it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. From there, it's another flurry of saliva, tongue and entirely too much white-hot pressure building below. 

When you break for a breath, a string of saliva stretches between each of your red, puffy lips. Patrick groans at the sight and pulls you in for a slower, raw kiss that leaves you slick and trembling for more. When you pull apart again, Patrick plants a sweet kiss on Art's mouth before focusing back solely on you, his hand slowly approaching your white thong.

When he starts to rub, you moan into his mouth and start trailing your hand to his crotch, palming his dick. Patrick reciprocates easily and tugs at your lower lip with an impish look in his eyes. 

Lips attack your neck again, pulling you higher up on the bed. You hear pants and clothes being shed from every angle around you before you're surrounded again, hands everywhere.

While Art pulls Patrick into a kiss, Tashi cups your face again and draws you into a gentle one as you settle between her legs, your back to her chest. You rest your head on Tashi's shoulder as you heave out another breath, her hands travelling from your navel to tracing shapes on your clit, over your wet panties, spreading your legs apart with her own. 

"Please, Tash," you whimper as her fingers curl around the edge of the fabric and tug so it strains against your leaking cunt perfectly. She then decides to skim a whisper of her touch against your pulsing ache. 

You gape as Patrick wraps his hand around Art's dick, stoking it, and he lets out the prettiest little whine. Patrick slowly works his way down Art's body, running his tongue between each curve of his muscles, collecting the sweat that's been building on his skin before wrapping his mouth around him, taking all of it in one insatiable bob of his head.

Tashi's nails tickle lightly up your stomach, then in the valley between your breasts and then back down again. It has you spiralling, arching your back as she presses a kiss at your neck.

"You're being so good," she coos into your ear. Your name is only a breath out of her mouth, and she's edging your clit with a gentle roughness that could only come from a woman of her calibre. Tashi pulls your panties aside and flicks and flits about your dripping cunt like she already knows how to make you come undone.

It makes you tremble. You'd sworn up and down earlier about how Tashi didn't know you anymore, and here she is, proving to you that she still does, that she knows every curve and divot of your body, that she still knows what makes you whimper and twitch.

Your hand quickly reaches behind you, between the heat of your back and her body and finds her clit and you try to emulate how she's making you weak. Each quiet gasp you earn from her has you moaning back tenfold under her saccharine trance and she quickly starts pumping two fingers into you.

One particular flick of Tashi's thumb on your clit coupled with her lips gliding against and sucking your own in a wanton kiss sends you over the edge. You moan and cum, back arching as you relentlessly force Tashi's hand against your cunt, searching for more delicious friction. 

She takes you all, and lets you ride it all out on her fingers while swallowing every moan you let out in a lewd, wet kiss. Art and Patrick moan appreciatively at the two of you, then focus back on each other.

Before you're able to come down from your high, Art's shoving his come down Patrick's greedy throat. He swallows it all, pulling off Art's red-tipped cock with a vulgar pop that creates a trail of saliva in its wake. 

Patrick smiles down at you and leans closer, and you think he's about to kiss you but then he swerves and kisses Tashi instead, who removes her hand from your cunt and slowly works it up his thigh until she cups his balls and gives them a gentle squeeze. He moans into her mouth, winking at you amid his impromptu make-out session you were tempted to join.

You shimmy back and turn on your stomach, positioning yourself between Tashi's long tanned legs. "Can I eat you out?" You ask while kissing up her leg, and you want to hear how much she needs you. You bite at your bottom lip as you nuzzle into her juicy cunt. "Tashi?" You look up at her from where your face is pressed against her. Her sweet smell makes you sigh as you tease your tongue with her hip bone. "Please, Tash, let me taste you." 

"Yeah, go for it," Comes her breathless plea.

You finally pull her lips apart, revelling in how she squirms against your hold on her hips. 

You're on your knees, trapped arching between Tashi's long legs when you hear Art clear his throat. You give one long lick up Tashi's twitching cunt before turning around with her slick dribbling down onto your chin to where Art has sidled up behind you.

Art crawls closer to you, "Can I touch you, beautiful?" He tilts your chin up as he awaits your answer. 

When you nod, he easily descends upon your lips, placing a sure hand behind your head as he deepens the kiss into something absolutely filthy. As soon as you break apart, he kisses your shoulder, then down your spine.

Tashi guides you back to her. You allow her nails to tangle in your locks as she forces your head back down against her arching hips.

"Shit," Patrick huffs, rough hands reaching for the globes of your ass while Art's smoother ones trail up your spread, inner thighs. Tashi tugs at his dick a little harder, which has him panting against her lips.

Tashi gasps as you flick at her clit then quickly move to tease her entrance with the tip of your tongue. You flatten your tongue, dragging it across her length and repeat the motion until she whines for you to stop. 

You slurp the combination of drool and slick as you pull away with a pussy-drunk smile. She meets it with a panting, dazed one and removes her hand from your hair to push her own out of her eyes while Patrick sucks at her neck.

"Ah!" You startle forward into Tashi's tits as Art finally breeches your entrance with his index finger. 

"Eat our girl out, Art," Tashi motions for Art to lie down under your spread form to get a better angle. You can't deny that the new nickname drives you a little crazy. "Show her she's ours."

Art's soft hands draw another moan out of you as they assuredly grip your hips to keep you in place while he unleashes teasing licks against your pussy.

Tashi draws you back to her. You'd know that look anywhere—she's ready to cum.

"I want you," Her breath hitches around your name while your tongue steals the rest of her coherent words until she's a withering mess under your touch. 

Her pornstar-worthy moans ring out across the room like a beautiful symphony. Tashi's wanton noises coupled with the wet whines you're unleashing against her folds until the two of you create the lewdest duet this hotel's ever heard. 

She arches against the bedframe as she tells you her near release, tugging at your hair as she draws closer and closer to the edge.

Panting, she draws you against her lips for a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. 

"Fuck, Tashi," You groan against her plump lips, feeling your own impending orgasm drawing near. "You're so fucking hot, I-"

She cuts off your rambling with another wet kiss. Her tongue flicks out to tease yours before sucking it into her mouth with a lewd slurp. Your hand works alongside hers to leave her shaking and whimpering against your lips as she comes undone by your hand. You smack her cunt lightly, eating the groan she feeds into your open mouth as she rides it out.

Tashi eats your moans as they echo against your messy tangling of lips and tongues.

Art's fingers start to pick up a pace as Patrick, feeling left out, starts thrusting his throbbing cock in the middle of your sapphic kiss with Tashi. You eye the two with half-lidded eyes as you share Patrick's cock with her. After only a few moments in your mouth, Patrick pulls out and releases across Tashi's and your expectant tongues.

"So fucking good to me," Patrick pants as he splatters the last of his come across your faces with a shaky groan. "Best fucking orgasm ever, swear it," He says as he encases his lips around yours, swapping his cum between your mouths before moving to Tashi to do the same.

Art moves out from under you, offering your knees relief as he lays you back against Tashi's stomach to fuck into you.

It's a slow and cruel pace, only made crueller by how Patrick and Tashi touch you like they already know where you want to be touched. Each brunette takes a side, Patrick sucking your tit into his mouth while Tashi's mouth draws you in for a kiss. Her nails tickle at your other erect nipples until you're arching off of her and into Art's thrusts, making him whimper.

"Just like that," Art whines your name. "You're so fucking tight."

It's when Patrick and Tashi move their attention down to your clit that you know you're fucked. Patrick spreads your folds with two fingers, watching as intensely as Art does as his cock disappears in and out of your hole.

"He could've never made you feel like this, right?" Tashi rasps. "He has no strategy, no real game. Just a fucking waste of space. Could never make you feel this good, this loved."

You don't need her to say his name, you know what she means. You're panting, shaking your head against her shoulder. "Never."

"Told ya," Patrick laughs into your skin. "Make her cum, Art. C'mon, man." 

"Fuck- please," You whimper, nodding. "I need to come, baby-" Without warning, you arch off of Tashi. Neither she nor Patrick stops their jerks against your clit as you gasp, eyes rolling back in your head with the thrum of a second wave creeping up on you with a steady building heat. Waves of pleasure roll over you as the tantalizing sensations become too much. You come loudly, arching pathetically off the bed as you desperately reach for Art, to hold him.

You're wriggling in Tashi and Patrick's arms as Art pulls out and releases across your expanding and retracting stomach as you pant out the remnants of your orgasm. 

"Shit," He moans, and his voice sends waves of aftershock across your body while his steady hands draw you against his naked chest for a toe-curling kiss.

You'd never been happier to have invited Patrick Zweig to your engagement party.

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[milkloafy]

I COULD BE YOUR CRUSH — WRIOTHESLEY

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: you gush about your crush to neuvillette over some tea, and your crush unexpectedly joins the tea party and overhears you talking about him. ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: fluff, fem!reader (use of princess as a petname), sassy neuvi, mentions of ayato ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.2k+ ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: alexa play crush by tessa violet,, LOL i was thinking so hard about the song title then i was like okay yeah these lyrics work ;-; titles are so hard.. anywayyy PLS ENJOY SOME WRIO FLUFF FOR THE SOUL !!

“You just don’t understand, Neuvillette,” you sighed dramatically, stabbing your fork into the delicate cake in front of you. “He’s totally swoon-worthy.”

Neuvillette took a sip of his tea before carefully placing the cup back on its saucer. For a while, he continued to stay silent, as if considering his words.

Once he finally opened his mouth, the only question that came out was a calm, “How so?”

It didn’t take long for a million reasons to pop into your head.

“Well…have you seen his arms?” you gushed. “Is that not enough of a reason in itself?”

Neuvillette scoffed, a smile of amusement playing on his lips.

“That’s not all, of course,” you clarified, grabbing a throw pillow from the sofa next to you and hugging it close to your chest. “He’s also caring and kind and treats everyone with respect, no matter who they are.” 

Neuvillette’s gaze flickered briefly to the door behind you, but you paid it no mind.

“Not to mention how he looks when he gets all serious. Neuvillette, have you ever seen him talk about a prisoner he had to punish? It’s so…” You hid your face behind the pillow, cheeks flaming at the thought.

Before you had a chance to collect yourself, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You immediately stilled in your seat, slowly bringing the pillow back down to your lap.

“Sorry I’m late. Who are we talking about?”

Neuvillette smiled, ignoring your frantic look directed right at him. “Wriothesley, welcome. You are not too late. Please, take a seat.”

Wriothesley slipped onto the sofa, taking a seat next to you. Neuvillette poured him a cup of tea that he graciously accepted. Looking over at you, Wriothesley brought the drink up to his face and asked, “Care to tell me who you were speaking of before I arrived? It sounded like you were singing their praises.”

You fiddled with the the hem of your silk pajamas— Neuvillette failed to inform you beforehand that a certain someone would be joining the tea party, so you appeared in your regular sleep clothes. You racked your brain trying to come up with a response. 

“Oh, you know… Kamisato Ayato,” you managed, vaguely remembering how you saw his name and face on the cover of The Steambird recently. “The head of the Kamisato clan is such a…dashing and strong leader. I think.” 

“I didn’t realize you were close to Kamisato,” commented Wriothesley, sitting with one leg loosely draped over the other as he leaned back against the sofa.

“Oh,” you shook your head, “no. No, I’ve never even met him.”

Wriothesley raised a singular eyebrow in question. “Your words earlier seemed so strong for something directed at a man you have never met.” 

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant even though your heart threatened to beat our of your chest. “You know how enamored a crush can make someone.” 

“I do,” Wriothesley agreed, his gaze locked onto yours so intensely that you almost had to blink.

“I’m sure you do,” remarked Neuvillette, still sipping his tea.

You and Wriothesley both looked over at him.

Neuvillette blinked. “Did you forget I was here? This is my office, is it not?” When no one responded, he sighed. “Well, I finished the last of my tea and I have some work to wrap up. Feel free to stay as long as you need.”

Neuvillette made his way back to his desk and Wriothesley refocused his attention towards you. 

“So. Kamisato Ayato,” he brought the clan leader up once more.

You choked out a laugh of exasperation. “Are we still on this? Just let me have my silly little crush on someone across the world who doesn’t even know I exist.”

Tapping his fingers against the teacup, Wriothesley huffed. You realized he looked almost annoyed and frustrated.

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong, Wriothesley opened his mouth and said, “Would it be overbearing of me to say I wish you had said a different name when I asked who you were gushing over?”

A strange mixture of curiosity and hope filled your chest.

Curiosity as to who he thought you were talking about. Hope that maybe he thought it might’ve been him. 

“You could never be overbearing,” you assured, grabbing a small biscuit from the table and softening it up in your warm tea. “Would it be nosy of me to ask who you wished I was gushing over?”

Wriothesley grinned. “You are certainly nosy. But it’s one of the things I like about you.”

You laughed, wiping a crumb off your lip with a napkin. “Does that mean you won’t tell me?”

“Perhaps another day.”

In the distance, you heard Neuvillette clear his throat loudly. You looked over and saw him glaring straight at Wriothesley. They stayed like that for a while, having a silent conversation with their eyes. Whatever it was, it seemed intense. You were quite glad that glare wasn’t directed at you.

“I believe Wriothesley would like to share that information with you now,” Neuvillette announced after Wriothesley looked away with a sigh.

“Does he?”

“I do,” Wriothesley confirmed, the slightest bit begrudgingly. “Me.”

You waited for him to say more, but he didn’t elaborate. 

You blinked. “What about you?” 

“Are you going to make me say it?” Wriothesley let out a strangled laugh, grabbing a biscuit to munch on himself. “When I overheard you and Neuvillette talking about your crush, I was hoping it was about me.”

You blinked. “Why about you?” 

Neuvillette made a strange noise as a book fell off his desk. He cleared his throat. “Pardon me.”

You barely had time to wonder if he was okay before Wriothesley finally responded.

“You really don’t make things easy for me, isn’t that right, princess?” Wriothesley said with a helpless smile. “I hoped you were saying such sweet things about me, since I would say equally sweet things about you.”

With your stomach turning at both the pet name and his admission, you managed to say, “And if I were to tell you it really was about you?”

“That would make me a very happy man,” he said, unable to contain his delight. “Who wouldn’t be happy to hear the most beautiful and caring person they know is interested in them as well?”

You heard Neuvillette tap his foot impatiently in the background, but you ignored him. You and Wriothesley were having a moment here. 

“So, you’re saying you like me, too?” you asked, not wanting there to be any chance of a misunderstanding. The two of you made it this far, you couldn’t let it fall apart now.

“I like you very much,” said Wriothesley with a nod. “And I have something to take care of at the Fortress this week, but when we both have time next week, perhaps we can celebrate with a dinner. Without Neuvillette there.”

“Please, without me there,” Neuvillette chimed in, his arms folded as he sat in his chair.

You laughed, standing up and brushing the imaginary dust off your pajamas. “All right, I can take a hint, Neuvillette. I’ll help you clean up before I go. And Wriothesley…” 

“Hmm?”

You met his gaze and the corners of his eyes crinkled. You fought off a giggle as you returned Wriothesley’s smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness filling you. “It’s a date.”

[i2ycat]

clumsily yours

pairing lee heeseung x fem!reader synopsis when your clumsy ass never fails to embarrass yourself in front of your crush, lee heeseung. but the catch is that lee heeseung is embarrassing himself to get your attention as well. a match made in heaven, if you will. genre college au, fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers word count 5k+ warnings one mention of wanting to have heeseung in your bed, use of the word whore (in a non-derogatory manner), my man jungwon working overtime as the resident best friend, reader compares herself to other people, kissing, lmk if i missed anything else main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

Clumsy might as well have been your middle name with how much you embarrass yourself, tripping on your own two feet like a toddler learning how to walk for the very first time being just one of the many. However, your clumsiness doesn’t just extend to matters pertaining to your body; you’d much rather it end there, but things never really go your way. It also includes embarrassing yourself in front of Lee Heeseung.

You first met Heeseung at orientation. He was in the year above you, acting as one of the guides that led you and a bunch of other freshmen around the campus. You didn’t know it at the time — though you could’ve guessed — but you were just one of the many girls who fell for Heeseung’s charming smile on the first day of the semester.

Heeseung was known to be good with his words, having the innate ability to let anyone’s guard down. He had a disposition for making kind gestures and making you feel at ease, even with just his presence alone. You still remember the smile he passed you as you wandered aimlessly around the university. At one point, he was even nice enough to initiate small talk, asking you what course you took and whether you had clubs in mind you wanted to join, to which you remember answering the music club.

It was around mid-winter when you succumbed to the heat spreading throughout you whenever Heeseung was around, even at a distance. That was also the same time you found out about his reputation — an infamy for being a tragic womanizer. Tragic because he left every single girl behind with a hotter desire to get him back, but once he left, that was it. He was never one to get back with the same girl.

You’ve heard rumours of how Heeseung was such a good lover that they just couldn’t let him go. Another was that he dated three girls at the same time while he was in Bali for the holidays.

They didn’t bother you because it wasn’t like you had a chance with Heeseung to begin with. It’s hard enough that you’re his junior, but adding the fact that you’ve endlessly embarrassed yourself in front of him just makes it that much more of an exacerbation. Admiring his pretty face from afar doesn’t hurt anybody, especially not your heart.

“Stop ogling at him like some creep.” Jungwon grimaces, stabbing his fork carelessly into pieces of chicken atop his plate of creamy fettuccine.

Even in the packed dining hall, you couldn’t help but notice Heeseung the moment he entered. It wasn’t that you were looking for him; it just so happened that when you looked up, he and his friends walked in. “I wasn’t ogling; he just came in when I looked up.” You explain, despite knowing that Jungwon doesn’t believe you one bit. He has every reason to not, really. You’ve dragged him around campus just to get a glimpse of Heeseung in between classes, talked his ear off about how much you wanted the boy, and all the in between.

“I really don’t get why you don’t just talk to him.” He starts chewing in between words. “It’s not like he has a preference either; he literally dated Yuna from our introduction to economics class.”

“That’s ‘cause she’s pretty!”

“And you’re not?” He raises a brow incredulously.

“Well, I am... but what I’m saying is that Yuna is in a different league of pretty.” Your platter of chicken parmesan sits half eaten and forgotten. “An exclusive league of Heeseung’s exes.” You mutter almost enviously.

It’s true that every single girl that Heeseung dated was beyond the threshold of being just beautiful — Karina, Yuna, and Yunjin, just to name a few. It didn’t help that they are all such nice girls; though you’ve never interacted with them yourself, you know a good-hearted person when you see one.

“You could easily add yourself to that list,” Jungwon states matter-of-factly, taking hold of your unfinished plate of food.

Could you really though?

You look past your best friend and towards the direction of the table where Heeseung and his friends are currently sitting. He’s everything your highschool self could’ve ever wanted in a guy; older, funny, tall, handsome. How could anyone not fall for him? You don’t even blame the girls for wanting to get back with Heeseung, no matter the heartbreak.

Even as he conversed with Jay and Sunghoon, he had this cheekiness and charm to him that drew you in like no other. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought for sure that he was like any other nerd in the campus, with semi-permanent smiles, black rims and jean everything, but way hotter.

As if Heeseung could feel your lingering stare, his eyes met yours. Is it overly cheesy and overused to say that your entire world has stopped? Yes, but you can’t help it because that’s exactly what happened. For a moment, it was nobody else but you and Heeseung in this entire universe.

The rosy tint in your cheeks is hard to conceal, and you can practically hear the heart palpitations in your ear. You don’t even notice that Jungwon is rolling his eyes at you, because he’s sure he’s seen this exact same scene about a hundred times before.

Oh, you were horrendously down bad for Lee Heeseung.

—

“Y/n?” A familiar voice faintly calls from behind you, taking your attention off the book you were reading. You turn, half-expecting it to be Jungwon asking to borrow your car, only to be faced with Heeseung sporting his signature smile. You could’ve sworn you died right then and there.

“Heeseung?” You managed to keep your composure, but you were feeling like a high school girl all over again, internally giggling and kicking your feet over the fact that he was within a 2-metre radius of you.

This wasn’t the first time you’ve talked to Heeseung, but it definitely was the first time you’ve ever gotten this close to him. You could almost make out the number of freckles across the expanse of his face, and you’d gladly continue to do so if he hadn’t already realised the fact that you’re practically a breath away from each other due to his miscalculation of distance.

Heeseung awkwardly falls to his ass as he tries to inch backward. “Ouch,” He hisses.

“Are you okay?” You let the book fall from your hands, instinctively reaching towards him.

“Pretend you never saw that.”

“My eyes were closed!” You hastily reply.

Heeseung’s hazel eyes momentarily swim in yours, as if he wanted to dig deeper into you and know everything about you that he possibly could. He felt as if he was put into a trance under you. A beat passes before he lets out a hearty, genuine laugh. It fills your ears with a heavenly symphony. You wish you could hear it forever, so you commit it to memory. You also wished you would always be the reason he laughed like this.

You don’t know why he’s laughing, but it’s infectious enough for you to want to join in the short concord of laughter. So, it becomes just you and him laughing like complete maniacs in the centre of the campus quadrangle. Other students in the area send the both of you weird looks, but you don’t pay them any mind, because who cares? Who cares if the school’s heartbreaker is having a little fun with little old Jang Y/n? What could possibly go wrong?

In this moment and time, absolutely nothing could go wrong. Right now, the Lee Heeseung in front of you isn’t just what the rumours say he is. He doesn’t have to be the lover everyone makes him out to be.

“We should do this more often.” A smile is still present on Heeseung’s soft features.

“Do what? You fall on your ass, then we laugh?” You don’t know where this newfound confidence came from, but you don’t mind it in the slightest bit. You’re finally able to hold conversations with Heeseung without stuttering over your words and making a fool of yourself.

“Hey! You said you didn’t see a thing.” He pouts, and you feel your heart melting. You put your hands up in faux defeat, softly chuckling at the childish side of Heeseung that he’s suddenly showcasing to you on a sunny Tuesday afternoon.

A comfortable silence starts to permeate the air.

From behind, Heeseung’s friends start to call out for him, breaking the trance you’ve been put in under his warm stare. “I guess I’ll get going. See you around.” He gets up, waving with a boyish expression, which you gladly reciprocate.

—

Jungwon lets out an exasperated sigh, his fingers shifting to massage his temples as he takes the time to cool his nerves. He wonders why he continues to go through with his friendship with you, letting the question take laps around his mind while you stare at him with unwaveringly bright eyes.

“Come on,” You whine. “Please?”

“Can’t you just ask him yourself? You told me that you talked to him a few days ago.”

“Yeah, but what if he thinks I’m weird?”

“That’s because you are,” Jungwon mutters, huffing once more out of pure dispairment. “Look, it’s not weird for you to simply ask a friend out.”

“When you phrase it like that, you make it sound as if I’m asking him to be my boyfriend!” You nudge him in the arm.

“That’s because you make it seem as if you are.” He gives you a look and says, “See? It’s not that big of a deal.” You’re rendered speechless at Jungwon’s words of wisdom, as he likes to call them.

“Please?” You attempt to coerce Jungwon one last time, looking up at him with the infamous puppy eyes, but immediately admit defeat when he narrows his eyes at you, brows furrowing in the process. “Ugh, fine.” You get up from your position on the couch, dusting yourself when you stand in front of the body-length mirror by the front door.

“Text me when it goes wrong!” Jungwon’s voice echoes in the small apartment as you shut the door.

The walk to campus was relatively peaceful, but it doesn’t do much to calm either your heart or thoughts, even as you rehearse the lines in your head ten times over.

Hey, Heeseung! I really wanted you to come to the show my friends and I are having tonight! No, you’re doing way too much. Might as well tell him you want to kiss him.

Heeseung! Come to the show my friends and I are having. Definitely not, too demanding.

Hee! Could you please come to the show my friends and I are having tonight? Hee? And you sound way too desperate.

Hey, Heeseung! You and your friends could come to the show my friends and I are having tonight! You could roll with this. Friendly, casual, and totally doesn’t sound like you desperately want him to be there at all.

As you go over the lines in your head one last time for good measure, your body crashes into one that is much firmer and larger than yours.

“Ow!” You yell, hands flying all over the place to find something to hold on to catch your fall, which you do — a bicep, more specifically Lee Heeseung’s bicep.

In the flurry of emotions, you didn’t even notice who you bumped into, only realising seconds later when you'd already gotten steady on your own two feet by using their body as an anchor.

“It’s you again.” Heeseung’s voice is hard to mistake; the familiarity in his sweet and melodic tone does not fail to strike you in the heart, making it beat ten times faster against your chest.

Oh.

Oh.

Almost instantly, you become hyper-aware of his touch on your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your eyes are blown wide, unable to compute that you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of Heeseung yet again. You just grabbed him in the bicep. All you wanted to do right now was hide in a ditch, preferably for the rest of the semester.

“Yeah, haha. It’s me again.” You rub your nape awkwardly, letting out a forced chuckle. “I was thinking about you!”

“Really now?” Heeseung raises a brow, with both intrigue and mirth present in his features.

The colour in your cheeks deepens. “No! That’s- that’s not what I meant. I was- I was just-” Each second that ticks by makes you want to run away even more, as you’re sure you’ve embarrassed yourself more than enough by now. He definitely thinks you’re some weirdo who thinks about him every second of the day — which you are, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Not that I mind you thinking about me; I actually quite like that you do, because at least I know the feeling’s mutual.” A smug smirk maintains itself on Heeseung’s face, twinkling eyes scanning the expanse of your face.

The what is what now?

You gulp almost painfully, blinking up at Heeseung with a bewildered stare, because there’s no way he just implied that he thinks about you too. Surely you’ve inferred wrongly. There’s just no way that you can take up space in the Lee Heeseung’s head.

“I-I have a show today at Delton. My band and I are performing. It would be nice if you could come.” You make the effort to completely disregard the revelation he’s just thrusted upon you, instead taking the chance to make use of the mental prep you were doing just minutes earlier. You were ready to ask him to come to your show, not to receive an indirect confession. It wasn’t a profession of love, but a confession nonetheless.

If Jungwon knew about this, he’d probably kick you in the shin for your pathetic excuse of a response. You internally shudder at the thought of Jungwon blowing up at you after you tell him what just transpired.

Before Heeseung can even come up with a response, you excuse yourself, brushing past him in a rushed manner. You didn’t even want to spare a glance at his face, scared that you would fall to your knees right then and there.

—

“Are you nervous?” Gaon, who is situated with a mic stand beside you, asks.

You nod your head ever-so-slightly, wiping your sweaty hands on the sides of your sweatshirt. You joined the music club a few months ago, but it wasn’t until just a few weeks ago that you started joining them as a lead vocalist in performances. So even until now, you weren’t acclimated to singing in front of a crowd just yet, no matter the size.

“I know you’ll kill it; you always do.” You both share a smile before the curtain in front of you slowly reveals the humble crowd just beyond the stage. In the dim lighting, your eyes scan the audience one by one, recognising a few girls from the classes you take and a few from the other majors. You even spot Karina with Yunjin near the back, as well as Jungwon.

When you don’t find Heeseung, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t disappointed. But after the little encounter you had with him this afternoon, you wouldn’t have either.

You put your thoughts aside when the familiar strums of Gaon and Junhan’s guitar fill your in-ears. You take a final deep breath, calming the last of your shaking nerves.

“Think of me when you’re out, when you’re out there.” The stage lights finally bring attention to you as you sing the first verse, closing your eyes in the moment. “I’ll beg you nice from my knees.”

Right as the beat drops, guitars and drums harmonising to create a new rock-sounding melody, you open your eyes, only to see Heeseung in all his jean-clad glory standing at the front row. He’s hard to miss as he practically towers over everyone else with his intimidating height.

“All I wanted was you.” You pull the mic stand towards you, emotions pouring out of every lyric that you sing. As if no one else mattered in the confined space of the bar, you kept your gaze solely on Heeseung. The confidence in your voice mirrors the one you wish you had as you make it further into the song, singing the lyrics line by line. Adrenaline takes over, letting you enjoy the moment to the fullest.

When the music comes to a complete stop, the loud cheers and hooting of the audience replace it instantly. You thank the crowd for the night and make it backstage, getting bombarded with compliments from the stage crew and other performers.

“You sang so well!” along with other compliments, continue to follow even as you disappear back into the crowd, attempting to find your way back to Jungwon. You make an effort to smile at them bashfully, even though you don’t think you did as well as you wanted to tonight.

“Y/n!” Heeseung pushes past people to get to you, mumbling a roll of short ‘excuse me's in the process. “Hey, um, you did really well.”

“Thank you.” You smile at him.

You looked so beautiful, which was what Heeseung wanted to add, but he remains silent and motionless, admiring the way you looked under the dim lighting instead. You’ve both made it near the back of the bar, where there was nobody else but you two. The next performers kicked off their performance of the night, so it made conversations between Heeseung and you harder to hear, prompting him to inch a step or two towards you.

“You have a really beautiful voice,” He shouts over the background instrumentals. His body is closer to yours, with his hands ghosting over the shell of your ears. Is it just you or was it getting hot in here?

You thank him once again, not trusting yourself to say any more than that, already semi-traumatised by this afternoon’s incident. Because what if you accidentally let out that the reason you chose to cover the song was because of him? With your luck, you were sure you would be spilling how much you wanted him entangled with you in your bed.

“You like Paramore?” He asks, trying his best to keep the conversation alive. He knew you liked music from the get-go, so he used it to his advantage. He usually isn’t one to pull all his weight with the girls he talks to, but it felt different with you. He felt that he needed to try even harder with you if he wanted to get you. It’s a first for Heeseung, and it scared the shit out of him.

“I do, actually!” You purse your lips into a small smile, reminiscing about the times when you would hold a makeshift concert in front of your sister with remote controls as microphones and stools as stages. “I used to listen to them a lot when I was younger.”

“All I wanted was you is actually my favourite song from them.”

“Really?”

“Maybe even more now after I’ve heard your rendition of it.” Your breath hitches in your throat probably for the nth time today and because of the same damn reason: Lee Heeseung and his endless flirting. Could you even call this flirting? You don’t know anymore. He’s just playing with you, like he does every other girl on this entire campus.

“I think I heard Jungwon calling for me!” You motion with your hands, already taking a step back before Heeseung could even catch you. He watches as your figure disappears into the sea of people, sighing to himself in defeat. You’ve ran away from him, again.

—

“Then what the fuck is the issue here? Because I don’t see one!” Jungwon groans after hearing your side of the story. “He’s obviously into you if he’s making the effort to flirt with you. Plus, I saw you guys talking real close last night. You left me alone for a MAN of all people.”

“Jungwon, must I remind you that you’re a MAN yourself?”

“Then take my fucking advice, as I am a part of the MAN community, when I tell you that you should just let yourself be happy and be with the damn guy! Who the fuck gives a fuck if he’s a man whore?” He finishes his piece of bread, dusting off the crumbs towards you in a manner of frustration. “We’re in college; everyone’s a whore.”

You roll your eyes at him, but you don’t say anything to retort because you know it’s true.

You’ve long accepted the fact that you would only ever hold the title of Heeseung’s friend, so it felt like sudden whiplash when Heeseung was starting to show signs of reciprocating your feelings — or at least you think so, when all you’ve ever fantasised about was him feeling the same way. Maybe it suddenly felt too real, and you weren’t actually expecting him to like you when all you’ve done is embarrass yourself in front of him.

You didn’t want to jump the gun either, making your heart feel even worse if it really was all just friendly. I mean, what could you possibly have done to make him finally notice you the way you notice him?

“Ugh, I know that look. Give yourself more credit!” He ruffles your hair and says, “You’re already extremely pretty in your own way.” The intensity in his eyes softened. “And this thing isn’t just a friendly gesture, I can tell that much. He wouldn’t go this long to just play with someone, you know that.” You nod, acknowledging that Heeseung was too nice for that. He may have dated a long list of girls, but those girls only ever had good things to say about Heeseung, from how attentive he is to how he always takes care of them. It’s what made Heeseung such a popular bachelor in the first place — being such a good lover.

“He likes you for you, Y/n. Plus, you deserve to be loved, so let yourself be loved, yeah?” Jungwon’s thumb goes over the apples of your cheeks lovingly.

“Jungwon,” You pout, touched by your best friend’s sweet words. “Come here.” You widen your arms for a hug, and knowing that he despises physical touch, you’re not surprised when he runs away from you, but even then you chase after him.

—

A few weeks have passed since Jungwon gave you that pep talk, and ever since then, you’ve been more open and less awkward to Heeseung’s flirting, even replying with your own few flirty lines here and there. The both of you have evidently become much closer than just friends; everyone with a pair of eyes can see that much. And with Heeseung’s reputation and popularity, it’s all everyone has been talking about these few days.

Girls have been approaching you left and right, telling you to keep your guard up with Heeseung because he’s going to leave you the way he left the other girls, telling you how you’re not special and that you’re just his newest plaything. You know they all had good intentions, but deep down, it still hurt all the same. Did it instill a newfound insecurity within you? Yes. Did you now have an irrational fear of being ditched? Yes, times two. But the catch was that you weren’t even a thing to begin with.

Every single lingering touch and loving stare was under the umbrella of just friends, with neither of you making the effort to clarify because it was always more convenient that way. But you’re starting to get greedy as the days pass. You don’t want to just be his plaything, and maybe you’re reaching, but you really want this to be something. If you’ve already gotten this far, what’s a little more?

You’re unable to stop these thoughts from spreading throughout the crevices of your mind, even while you’re lying across Heeseung’s couch with your head on his lap. His tender hand caresses your locks, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok with the other.

Routines like this have unknowingly formed throughout the few months you’ve gotten to know Heeseung; after class, you would either end up at Heeseung’s apartment to chill and talk or find yourselves at a nearby restaurant to try. You recently found out that Heeseung is a big foodie, with ramen being his favourite of them all. It’s small stuff like this that makes you feel as if you’ve dug deeper into Heeseung than anyone else ever has before. After all, you’ve stayed with him longer than in all his past relationships.

It’s a sense of false accomplishment, really. They’ve got to actually call Heeseung their boyfriend, while you’re just some fake. A girl-friend.

“Baby, look at this.” Did you add that he also calls you baby? Because he does, all the damn time. You always remind him to just use your name, but he reasons that baby fits you much better. It’s as if he’s deliberately trying to torture your heart.

Heeseung shows you a video on his phone, but your mind is already occupied elsewhere, which he takes immediate notice of. “Baby?” He calls, his fingers brushing your cheek.

You sit up from your position on his lap to face him, “Heeseung, what are we?” You see Heeseung’s body tense up, his jaw going rigged, and his eyes blown wide.

The silence is deafening.

“I-” Words fail to make it past Heeseung’s lips, leaving him at a loss for words. As each second on the clock ticks by, your heart breaks a little more. So he really was going to discard you like everyone else.

You continue to chide yourself for your naivety, for thinking that you could change him when you couldn’t even make him like you. You don’t even blame him because you’re definitely not a Karina or a Yunjin in any aspect; there’s no way he would fall for you.

“I wanted the timing to feel right.” Finally finding the courage, he continues. “I didn’t want to rush into things because this felt different.” His auburn orbs soften as he gazes at you with such love and affection, wanting nothing more than to hold you tight in his arms.

“I don’t get it.”

“I’ve been wanting to ask you to be my girlfriend for a while now, and I’ve been thinking of ways to ask you. Over a fancy dinner, maybe?” He chuckles, his hand flying to scratch the back of his neck. “And I still want to do that officially, but if you must know, you’re the only girl I want.”

You’re the only girl he wants. His voice echoes in your head, effectively melting every single doubt and insecurity in its path.

Heeseung scoots closer to you with his hands cupping your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” You slowly nod.

His soft lips felt perfect on yours, and you could feel your body buzzing with relief and warmth, your skin burning under his. His touch, his kiss, and his body being so close to yours made you feel lightheaded with want. It electrified you. Every single thing would no longer matter after this moment because Heeseung wanted you the same way you wanted him.

He was yours, and you were his.

—

“Where are we going?” You ask as you watch endless views of the seaside flurry by. With the windows rolled down, you relish in the onshore spring breeze.

“You’ll see, baby.” Heeseung squeezes your thigh for good measure, letting out a hearty laugh when the apples of your cheeks tint a bright red.

Minutes continue to pass you by, and when you reach your destination, or you believe that it is, Heeseung asks you to don a blindfold. You immediately comply, albeit a bit concerned, yet you still let yourself get dragged by Heeseung into unseen territory. With one of your senses gone, the sounds of hushed whispers, the clinging of keys, elevator sounds accompanied by their music, and the closing of a door are amplified tenfold. You try to make sense of your surroundings but give it up when you haven’t a single clue as to where you are or what you’re doing. You occasionally make the effort to inquire Heeseung about it, but he shuts you down almost immediately, repeating that you’ll see it soon enough.

“Come on, you big baby.”

Heeseung unties the blindfold, letting it fall onto the ground as you get slowly acclimated to the sudden difference in lighting.

It takes you a few seconds to realise that you’re in a hotel room, one that has been neatly decorated with helium balloons and flower petals everywhere, as well as the most stunning view you’ve ever seen. The sun continues to set in the background, painting the sky hues of orange and pink. You could even see the beach so perfectly from where you stood in the doorway. Your heart swells in its place, looking back at Heeseung with tears lining your eyes.

With his hand still clasped in yours, he leads you further into the suite, pointing at the large metallic letters reading, ‘Can I Be Your Boyfriend?’ on the headboard of the bed.

You knew that Heeseung wanted to make it special when he asked to officially become your boyfriend, but you didn’t think he would go this far: booking a hotel, letting the hotel staff in on it, then decorating said room in all your favourite colours.

“Heeseung.” You turn, hands flying towards Heeseung, to capture him in a deep and passionate kiss. When you’re both breathless and panting, you stick your forehead together with his, savouring the sweet moment. “Yes, a hundred times yes. You can be my boyfriend.” You smile at him, feeling the salty tears finally start to trickle down.

“I love you.” He picks you up and twirls you around before he continues to plant kisses on your lips and the entirety of your face. “I loved you the moment you fell in front of me, the moment our eyes met, the moment I fell on my ass for you, and the moment you sang my favourite song.” He whispers in between kisses.

This felt like a dream — how you went from crushing on the campus heartbreaker to dating the guy of your dreams.

© i2ycat 2024 i love heeseung sm goodbye. also if u see any mistakes no u don’t… i’ve proofread this like 20 times and i think i might’ve gone insane (real)

[palajae]

wrong place, wrong time.

PAIRING... heeseung x doctor!reader | GENRE... fluff, romance, humor, mentions of hospitals, flirty heeseung | WC... 1kish

“oh my god. he has to be a model. there’s no way-“

“maybe he’s famous…”

“should we ask him for a picture?”

you roll your eyes at the excited chatter coming from the nurses down the hall. who knew what they were gossiping about this time? shoving your hands in your coat pockets, you’re quite literally stopped by the sight of everyone crowded by the front desk.

you frown, taking in their lovestruck expressions. “what’s going on?”

one of the nurses, giselle, quickly squeals and runs over to whisper in your ear. 

“you won’t believe it, doc. the finest man just walked in. his condition seems alright so we’re all trying to figure out what he came in for.”

of course. you let out an exasperated sigh, watching in amusement as everyone fights to be the one to escort him to a room. 

out of pure curiosity, you decide to take a quick glimpse. exactly how handsome could this guy really be?

apparently, very. much. so. 

lee heeseung. early twenties. looks like a member of a famous boy band. has got everyone in close proximity wrapped around his finger.

also, a huge flirt (obviously.) 

the nurses love him, getting any and every chance to bat their eyelashes and flirt back. 

you, on the other hand? 

you’re sure you’ve become a pro at rejecting his advances. 

the first time he came in was for bloodwork. the second time, x-rays. the third time he was “feeling under the weather.” 

honestly, you’re wondering why he visited so often. if anything, most people avoided hospitals.

“hi, dr. y/l/n.”

your lips press together in a thin line. your eyes remain focused on the clipboard in front of you. you weren’t counting but this was, what? 

his fourth time checking in? 

“heeseung. you’re back…again. may i ask why you seem to love the hospital?”

he smirks teasingly, “or maybe why the hospital seems to love me?”

you can’t help but roll your eyes indiscreetly. 

he did it every time. of course, he was friendly with everyone. but heeseung just seemed to go the extra mile around you. 

“i think i ate something bad.”

you quirk an eyebrow, “oh really?”

“i don’t know, maybe it was something the chef cooked?” he responds cheekily. 

you let out a huff of air, one long enough that blows the baby hairs out of your face. “…what did you eat last night?”

“oh, it was delicious,” his eyes bore into you as he continues to ramble on.

“any pain, discomfort, bowel movements?” you interrupt, clicking your pen incessantly. 

“no, just the ache in my heart when you ignore me,” he clutches his chest playfully.

you look up at him with pursed lips. 

“you know what? i think you’re fine and it’s time for you to go.”

you guide heeseung to the front desk to drop him off, about to leave him in the hands of the receptionist. as you’re about to leave, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist. it’s subtle—under the table so no one else can see. 

your body stiffens for a moment, examining his face that holds an unreadable expression. when neither of you utter a single word, you gently pull your arm from his grip when someone calls for you. 

winter’s mouth drops open. “you’re telling me he came back a fourth time? this must be a record.”

ningning nods excitedly, “i mean, there has to be a reason. who do you think he keeps coming back for?”

you almost choke on your water. “you’re saying-?”

she turns to you, eyebrows raised insistently. “there must be a certain someone that catches his eye here.”

“i wish it were me,” giselle sulks as her fork stabs into her food pathetically. 

winter frowns, “you know, he has been really clingy to you, doc.”

you swallow harshly. “huh?”

everyone begins to chime in accordance. 

“yeah, he always asks about you and what you’re doing.”

“he only gets check ups from you, too.”

you scoff, shaking your head slightly. “don’t remind me.”

the three of them pause for a short moment, before their expressions change. you feel fear and apprehension course through your veins. 

“do you not like him? is it because you think he’s so cute?”

“are you interested in him?” their wide eyes and questioning voices makes your mouth dry.

“now that i think about it… y/n’s the only one who doesn’t seem down bad for heeseung.”

you stammer, unable to form a response until your pager goes off. 

“ha-oh. well, that’s my cue!” 

you quickly make your escape in order to hide your flustered expression. 

after you finished your rounds later, you slump into your chair in the cafeteria. the sounds of the conversation from the table next to you drifts over to your ears. 

“do you think it’s because of me? i mean, he always greets me good morning with those dreamy eyes of his.”

your eye twitches. 

“don’t think you’re so special. heeseung waves goodbye to me every time.”

alright, enough of this. you stand up, chair clattering backwards quite loudly, and walk off. you’ve just made it to your office, opening the door, when you freeze.

“heeseung? what are you doing here?”

he immediately smiles from—your eyes narrow—your rolling chair. he rolls closer, a bit too close.

“why do you keep asking when you know the  answer already?”

for a moment, you keep your eyes locked. then you let your professional mode switch off. 

“you really need to stop coming, hee. people are getting ideas,” you chide gently with a ruffle of his hair.

he leans into your touch with a hum, “about you and me?”

you push his head away with a snort, “no. about you and them.” 

with a chuckle, he wraps his arms around your waist. “i’m sorry. i can’t help but miss my baby when you’re practically working all day.”

you soften, “i know. i’m sorry. but this is getting a little out of hand.”

suddenly heeseung gets up, moving closer towards you. “will a kiss make up for it?”

you pretend to think, tapping your foot thoughtfully, “maybe… depends on how good of a kiss.“

he quickly leans in, one arm snaking around your waist while the other cups your cheek. your eyes begin to close. as soon as you feel the ghost of his lips touch yours, the door slides open. 

“doc-“

you immediately push heeseung off of you, startled. and then proceed to shut the door in giselle’s face, quite literally. with panicked whispers, you manage to shove your boyfriend under the desk with a final shh!

about 0.3 seconds later, you slide the door open again. 

giselle stands there, gaping. 

“what was that?!”

“what was what?” you clear your throat nonchalantly, taking a look at your patient’s files. 

“you-he-“ she splutters, “heeseung!” 

“what are you talking about?”

“you’re the one heeseung keeps coming for?”

“doctor y/l/n?!”

you both freeze. the rest of the nurses look from you to giselle and back with shell shocked faces. 

you want to curl up into a ball. this is not how you wanted everyone to find out. given, you didn’t expect your loving boyfriend to visit out of the blue without any context. 

you smile sheepishly. “surprise?”

before you know it, a hand finds its way onto your shoulder. you almost jump before relaxing at the touch. 

“we-we thought- heeseung-“

you bite your lip, as heeseung chuckles. you wanted to keep your personal life and work life separate, but with your job getting so hectic the past couple weeks, you realized you had spent way more time at the hospital than at home. 

immediately, guilt runs through your body. heeseung had always been so sweet and understanding, and seeing him come visit your work really put things in perspective. 

how bad must’ve it been for him to have to go out of his way just to see you? while you kept brushing him off? 

you wrap an arm around his waist, hugging him closer. “guys, this is my boyfriend, heeseung—as most of you already know.”

he looks at you with surprise evident in his eyes. obviously, you weren’t the most open person. 

as everyone watches you two with jaws dropped, you squeeze his hand in hopes he understands. you’re lucky to have heeseung—the most empathetic person you know, because he presses a kiss to your temple. 

“i’m sorry,” you murmur, “no more running away and prioritizing work.”

everyone else in the room fades away as he truly looks you in the eye. 

“i know, baby. i know.”

as you both beam at each other, you’re assured in the love you feel together once more. 

a/n ▸ jae posting two days in a row? that’s crazy

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount

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[wizzdot]

*short fic alert* (fic under page break)

Hear me out. Is this….John Price?!

The 141 get home late from a mission, Johnny and Gaz go straight to the showers and Simon slinks off to wherever it is he winds down after a tough few days.

You have been sat on the proverbial bench for the past few weeks with a bullet wound to the shoulder. While rendered useless to the team, you decide to take up a new hobby. So far, the boys have been lab rats for the taste tests of whatever concoction you pull from the oven.

The burnt cookies (that you’d forgotten to put eggs in) that Kyle had whined about almost breaking his perfect teeth. Johnny managed to gobble them up and didn’t seem to understand what the problem was, leading Simon to joke that the man had no taste buds.

Or the time you accidentally used Salt instead of Sugar in the Victoria Sponge cake. Kyle subtlety threw his slice in the bin while you weren’t looking making sounds as if he had enjoyed in. Johnny ate it, making it look so delicious that you were getting confident that your baking skills were finally improving. Simon took a slice back to his room and in the privacy of his own bed, took a bite, and immediately spat it down the toilet. “Christ Almighty, that fuckin’ twat really doesn’t have taste buds” he cursed.

You perfect your skills over the next couple of weeks, with Johnny and Kyle remaining endlessly supportive of your new venture. But the entire time, John avoids your baking attempts.

“Need to watch my weight, love”

“Wish I could have a bite, but I’m on a diet, sweetheart”

“Can’t afford to pile on the pounds at my age, Dove”

They are John’s favourite excuses. You won’t admit it, but it makes you sad. You want to make all of your boys happy. Also, he isn’t even that old for gods sake.

Simon knows that the Captain is avoiding your god awful attempts. But even Simon notices that your skills are slowly improving. He keeps sneaking cupcakes and cookies into his room and this past week, especially, they’d been… alright. Well - apart from the horrifically deformed attempt of decorating a cake like Yoda. It looked like a slimy goblin with wonky eyes - but it tasted ok.

So picture this, they get home from a three day long mission. You’d missed your boys. You’d left your most recent cake on the kitchen counter before going to bed. You climb out from your bed when you hear their tired footsteps heading down the hall.

You poke your head out of the door. Johnny and Kyle come over and give you a soft hug. “Christ, you boys stink” you say. “Fuck off” Kyle laughs, before stripping himself of his shirt “gonna hop straight in the shower anyway. See you in the mornin’, yeah?” he asks. I nod and watch as he leaves towards his room.

Johnny stands, watching Kyle retreat. “I smell even worse than him, hen” he says, trying to shove your head into his armpit. You fight him off and shoo him down the hall.

Simon walks past and gives a small nod, “you might want to go and see Price. He made a beeline for the kitchen” he grumbles, continuing on his way casually.

That comment puts you on edge. Is John hurt? Is he looking for you? You quickly slide on your fluffy slippers and shuffle down to the kitchen as quickly as you can.

The scene that greets you is the last thing you expect to see. The Captain, in a wide stance, leaning one hand on the counter, devouring your Cake (the best one you’d baked so far!!!) with just a single fork. He’d polished off at least half of it, showing no signs of slowing down.

You can’t help but giggle at the scene. “Is it good…?”

“Fuckin’ hell, Love. It’s delicious”

The blush that erupts over your cheeks is immense.

“That was supposed to be shared..” you mumble.

“Not in a sharing mood” he says through a mouthful of cake.

“It’s rude to chew with your mouth open, Captain” you joke.

“Teach me some manners then, sweetheart” he teases, stabbing the fork into the top of the remaining quarter of cake before crowding into your personal space.

“Cakes almost as sweet as you” he whispers into your left ear before leaving the kitchen with a smug smile as you stand frozen in place.

“Oh, I’ve forgotten something!” He mentions from down the hall before turning back and snatching the cake box from the counter. He pauses on his way out, pecking you on the cheek and heading to his office as if that was totally normal behaviour.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t stand touching the spot that he’d kissed for half an hour after he’d left.

Your phone interrupts your frozen state. It’s a text from the group chat.

………..

Johnny: “Kyle, d’ya think Cap told her how he feels yet?”

………

Johnny: “c’mon ya cunt, don’t ignore my message. I know your out the shower I can hear you laughin through the wall”

………

Simon’s voice bellows throughout the hallway “wrong fuckin’ chat, you moron” followed by Kyle cackling and Johnny swearing loudly.

You’re still standing in the doorway of the kitchen, in shock, when the door to John’s office opens.

“Guess you saw that, eh?” he asks, sheepishly.

You nod your head, zoning in on a piece of icing on the corner of his mouth. As if on instinct, you reach up and wipe it with your finger, sticking it into your mouth, before freezing again, realising what you’d just done.

Johns eyes follow your finger, hungrily.

“If you wanted to taste it, you could’ve just asked, love”

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[12:41 pm]

(cw: f!reader, a child, pregnancy complications, "Mommy" and "daddy")

"Mommy is tired?" dad!Jaehyun heard his little girl ask.

"A little bit, princess. The baby is getting bigger so Mommy just needs to lay down more, but she's not sleeping," Jaehyun explains in a sweet voice, pushing her unruly hair away from her face.

This was tough to explain to a 4 year old. Your first pregnancy had been a breeze compared to this one. Your first pregnancy almost five years ago came with some nausea that plagued you for the first few months, labor was long and arduous, but there was nothing that really hindered you from going about life as normal as possible. This pregnancy wasn't the same.

This time around you came down with gestational high blood pressure, which at your last appointment didn't look to be getting much better, so your doctor had put you on bed rest. You were doing your part by taking your medication daily and staying off your feet, but man was this a pain. You hated laying around and doing nothing, especially when your need to nest was nagging at you. You hated it, but you also knew that you wanted to avoid the induction being too early.

Jaehyun grabbed some food from the fridge and played it for you, lunch time. A healthy meal that he himself knew didn't sound super delicious, but he was being just as cautious as you were, if not more. "Let's take Mommy her lunch, princess," Jaehyun told his daughter.

She squealed excitedly, running to the bedroom with her Belle costume swishing around her legs. She pushed the door open and ran to the bed, climbing up onto the foot of the bed before settling beside you. Jaehyun smiled at the sight of his two girls. You were sat up against the headboard, folding laundry- which you had insisted on doing, Jaehyun didn't want you lifting a single finger, but you were stubborn.

"Lunch time, my love," Jaehyun smiled, walking over to you and handing you the plate. He tried not to laugh as your face scrunched up into a look of disappointment and smidge of disgust.

You stabbed the fork into the food and sighed before bringing the food to your mouth. If the bed rest worked, you'd be back on your feet in a week. Your doctor wanted to see if the bed rest would prove useful paired with the medication she'd put you on. You couldn't speak without the medical knowledge she'd possessed, but your blood pressure was going down and staying consistent. Your legs weren't as swollen and when Jaehyun took your blood pressure each morning it wasn't as high and remained consistent.

"I gave you your medication this morning right?" Jaehyun asked while holding up the pill bottle.

You hummed in agreement, swallowing your food, "as if you'd let me forget. I took it with a whole glass of water and ate it with my avocado toast. Hey, have you not been doing her hair? She looks like the brush hasn't touched her hair since I brushed it after her bath last night."

Jaehyun looked away, avoiding your gaze. Doing his daughter's hair wasn't a skill he had perfected yet. So yes, you were right, a brush hadn't touched her hair since last night. On the other hand, everything else had been taken care of. Your daughter didn't spend the whole day in her pajamas, she was dressed in real clothes, even if her Belle costume covered it up, she had brushed her teeth this morning, already eaten two meals today, and Jaehyun had her practice writing her name. On all levels, besides hair, he was killing it.

"Bring me the brush and some rubber bands please," you asked him sweetly, using your hand to tame the hair on the little girl's head.

He raised a brow, "finish your lunch and then I'll get you what you asked for."

You rolled your eyes, stabbing the fork into the food more harshly with a look that asked 'happy?' Your daughter turned her eyes away from the show on the TV and rubbed your belly, placing a small kiss on the apex. "Sister is making you tired, Mommy?" she asked, laying her head on your stomach.

You sighed tiredly, "yeah, princess. We don't want sister to get here too early so the doctor says I have to rest."

"But I want sister here already," she tells you with a pout.

Jaehyun takes the now empty plate from you while you brush your fingers gently brush through some of the tangles in her hair. "If the baby comes early, she won't be healthy, princess. We want her to be healthy right?"

"Yes," she sighs out, "Mommy, can you do my hair? Daddy doesn't know how."

Jaehyun rolls his eyes as he hands you the things you asked for, watches as his daughter willingly lets you comb the tangles from her hair gently, and watches as your fingers work deftly to braid it away from her face. He loves it.

He presses a kiss to your stomach, not trying very hard to keep the words that slip from his lips low and quiet, "if you want to give us a surprise and come out as a boy, that's fine. I'll still love you. Save me."

When two similar slaps to his arm come at the same time he can't help but laugh, if he's surrounded by girls that act like you and are the perfect mix of your genetics, he'd die a happy man.

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

I REALLY WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING BASED OFF OF THIS

THIS IS 'RED'

SO ENJOY.

-

You didn't have hair like Jean. Or that fiery look in your eyes. Your skin wasn't smooth, and you were full of flaws only Logan refused to see. You weren't used to being second. Of course, you had been second for tests in the mansion or second in the bonding activities. Professor x encouraged everyone to play despite their exhausted groans, and you've played video games where you've come second to Ororo or Scott.

But never had you thought you'd be second to Logan.

There were people who had warned you. That Logan was not ready for another relationship. But you refused to see the signs in his struggles, and despite all that you had heard of the love he had for Jean, you still loved him.

Now, sitting out in the grass crying to the sound of the crickets, you regretted your decision to love another chance. He swore up and down, left and right, that he didn't love her anymore.

But a blind man could see it. A deaf woman could hear it. And a fool could do both with ease.

You were-are-a fool for Logan. You were a massive fool for him, and you had been since you played eyes on him. Every night you'd go to bed dreaming of him and every morning you dressed to impress him and get his adoration. But no matter what you did, he still looked at Jean and soon you began to lose the hope you once had.

And every night as you dreamed of him, he was dreaming of her.

-

"YOU THINK IM SOME KIND OF FOOL?!" You spat, pointing sharply at Logan.

Defensively, he scowled and slammed his hands down on the dining table, Chittering the plates and forks.

"WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?!" His voice boomed in the walls of the house.

"WITH ME?!" You exclaimed, your lip quivering. "YOU ARE THE PROBLEM LOGAN!"

He threw his hands by his head acting defeated. "Yeah, right, because it's never your fault, is it?" He scoffed.

Never my fault. Right. But when he woke up one night and stabbed me because he thought I had kidnapped Jean, that was my fault. When he wakes up to breakfast in the morning but it Wasn't Jean that had cooked it. That's also my fault.

It's always my fault

"NOT MY FAULT? WHEN IS IT NOT MY FAULT LOGAN?! YOU ALWAYS MAKE IT MY FAULT. WHY ARE YOU SO AFRAID TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY?!" You howled like a grieving wife.

To an outsider, it may have looked like you were screaming blue murder, weeping to the man who killed your lover. And you might have said to certain extent, the outsider is right.

"You were never there for me! Not once!"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. After the months and months of longing and weeping, long nights of screaming and horror within you, moments when you couldn't bear to be without Logan and moments when you didn't even want to think of him. Some nights spent holding him while he sobbed her name. Hers

"Fuck you logan" you spat venom "I tried to be there for you I really did. I really fucking tried. But you are a coward. You refused to let me help you and when you asked me for help it was always for me to put on her perfume"

You almost threw up. Gripping the wood of the table as you leant on it, wood chips splintering your nails felt softer than loving Logan.

"You are so selfish!" He boomed."You are a pathetic, cowardly woman! All I want is your help!"

You slowly got off the table, with all your strength you walked for the door. "Oh your gonna leave now?!" Logan hissed

You turnt to face him. "I was really hoping I would see the best in you logan, I was really hoping that one day we could have had a family, and loved them as our own. Now I see that if we had children, while I loved them as ours, you'd loved them as yours and jean's, and I can't have that. I can't live like this. Goodbye logan. I hope I made loving me worth your time"

[sexilene]

lene we need some 80s slasher JB!!!

ohh shure! he gives creepy summer camp counselor vibes - 80s!slasher!john b

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, blood, violence, death, threats, slapping, spitting, obsessed!john b - ₊˚⊹

you'd gotten the most perfect job for the summer as a camp counselor at a sleep-away summer camp. after meeting everyone at the orientation you've become close to another counselor who will be working with you, john b. 

he was in charge of the boy's cabin and you the girls, and your groups would meet up for activities, bonfires, smores, and lunch. he'd honestly grown really attached to you since you were always doing things together, whenever he'd see you chatting with another guy he'd feel possessive and you weren't even dating! yet john b would also embarrassingly get hard watching you slide down your shorts, staring at how tight your bikini bottoms fit around your ass. he'd spend that night in his cabin jerking off, picturing your pretty body bouncing on top of him, wishing he could grab fistfuls of your ass. he'd finish in his fist all sweaty and out of breath. 

you sat at your group's table in the mess hall facing john b's table, both of you making eye contact every few seconds. 

when the dessert was ready, each table was called to go pick up their plate of cherry pie with vanilla ice cream. john b's eyes followed your figure as you walked up to the counter, waiting until all the little girls got their slices. one of the guys that was working inside the kitchen, clearly flirting with you, asks if you want some. you decline with a smile but the young man insists, saying he made it himself, he lifts up the fork with a piece of the warm pie and dripping ice cream to your lips. you indulge him by opening your mouth and closing it around the fork, swallowing the desert you widen your eyes and nod. "it's really good!" you smile, the guy's hand reaching out to swipe the little bit of ice cream that stayed on the edge of your lip. 

watching this, john b was furious, letting that fucking feed you, touch your lips....

that night, the little girls knock on your cabin door, right next to theirs. they complain that they heard someone scream coming from the mess hall and are too scared to sleep. you tell them it's probably nothing and to go back to sleep, that you'll check it out.

the girls do as they're told and you walk over to the mess hall and walk inside the dark space to see what could have been the noise, hearing some sort of noise coming from inside the kitchen you figure it could be an animal that got inside, you press your ear to the swinging door honestly too scared to actually look inside. 

the door then swings open, causing you to stumble back and meet eyes with john b, with blood on his shirt, hands, and on the knife in his hands. you stand there confused...'did he cut himself?' you think, then you see it, through the open door is the pie guy dead on the floor with his blood pooling around his body. john b's hand is quick to cover your mouth before you can scream, "shshsh, you don't need to do that bub, you're fine." he whispers, maintaining eye contact with you. 

you nod your head slowly, chest heaving. 

"i'm gonna let go now okay? need you to be quite f'me, can you do that?" he raises his eyebrows and you nod again, he takes his hand off our mouth. "m'gonna need to take your clothes off...got blood on them..." he tells you rather than asks you, he raises the knife and cuts your top up the middle. 

"john b? what's going on..." you whisper, clearly scared. 

"i can't wait anymore, you drive me crazy, i need to do this." he rambles while tugging off your shorts rather roughly. 

"john b did you stab the kitchen b-" he cuts you off with a rough kiss to keep you quiet. he manhandles you over one of the tables and lifts you on top, facing him. 

you whine as he brings the knife up to your face. 

"don't scream, don't want to whole camp to hear you, n'i don't want to hurt you pup"

you nod, tears spilling down your cheeks as he cuts your panties to get access to your hot messy pussy. 

"awww she's so pretty..." he coos, his big rough fingers slowly rubbing your clit, making you mewl. 

"jombee...i don't wanna...you killed someone!" you shake your head, almost hyperventilating crying. 

"hey, nuh uh, stop that." he pats your face to get you to listen to him. you watch as he pulls off his bloody shirt and unzips his shorts and pulls himself out, your eyes widening at the size. "he's not the only one i killed." he looks back into your eyes and you swear your heartbeat sped up and so did the pulsing of your cunt. 

"you're a murderer johnbee," you whisper but then gasp when you feel him start to push in, stretching your pussy. 

"i know, m'really mean, huh puppy?" he pouts mockingly and pinches one of your nipples making you squeal. 

"don't like being mean to you, but when you walk around acting like an angel, when i know you're a little tease...kinda have'ta put you in your place," he grunts, pounding into hard now, you can see the little bulge in your tummy. 

"i wasn't! i didn't mean to be! i didn't do anything!" you sob, one hand grabbing onto the table and the other hand gripping his bicep. blood sorta covering both of you from where he had touched you, he grabs your face with his hand and forces you to look at him. 

"wish you could be my good girl right now n'just take. it." he thrusts harder with his last two words. you wish you could scream at how scared you are of him but also at how good it feels. 

"open." he grunts, squeezing your jaw a little. you shake your head no as best you can, causing him to let go of your jaw and slap you, making your drooly cunt clench around him. "m'not asking again." he grabs your jaw again, and you open your mouth, and he spits into it making you whine in disgust. "swallow." you do as your told and swallow tears continuing to fall. 

"that's how a dumb little doggy gets treated, they get spit on." he grins and pulls out of you, manhandles you off the table, and bends you over, tits and face pressed against the wood. 

"nooo...no.." you drool onto the table. 

he bends down a bit to be right in front of your ass and spits on your other tight little hole, watching as his spit drips down to your pussy. you squeeze your eyes shut at the feeling and sob a little louder. 

he stands up straight again and reaches around to pat your sloppy little cunt now covered in his spit, and slides his cock back in. 

"s-so gross..." you mewl, making him laugh quietly, bringing the back of his bloody hand up to your face. 

"cum around me or i'll smear this on your face, you want that? hmm? some guy's blood on your face?" he threatens. "c'mon..." he bends down to press icky wet kisses to your cheek that instantly make you cum on on him, pulsing and squeezing him as your mind goes dumb. his big hand covering your mouth as you moan.

"there she is, good girl...yeaaah" he praises, thrusting into you more sloppily until he's pumping you full, flooding your poor little pussy. 

after a few seconds, he pulls out and uses his tip to smear yours and his cum around your pussy lips. 

"here." he hands you his bloody shirt for you to put on knowing it'll cover you enough to get back to your cabin decent, you pull his shirt over your head and make sure it covers your ass.

"we'll talk more tomorrow, okay sweetie? gotta go...clean that up." he tilts his head toward the body. "goodnight kiss?" he bits his lip, squinting his eyes, taunting you. you stand there lifting your head, he leans down to give you one last kiss on your lips, a string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away.  ᥫ᭡

[bucknastysbabe]

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Let's play who's the sidepiece?, Aegon has half of King's Landing and his sister has one (1) man, humor, strong themes of sexism/patriarchy/gender roles, infidelity but casual?, jealous jealous jealous Aeg, who is also a self-absorbed idiot, Aemond just wants peace, pnv!sex, Incest need I say more, manipulation, degradation, rough sex, oral sex (m!receiving), a bit toxic at the end but they do love each other.

Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @fairysluna @valeskafics @dr-aegon @targaryen-madness @starogeorgina @lovelykhaleesiii @sugarpoppss2 @thought--bubble

Divider by @saradika

Aegon was suspicious. Sure, he fucked whenever and however he wanted. Regardless of outside activities, something was off in his meticulously planned life. Planned by others, of course, he couldn't give a rat's ass. The prince just had been wed to his sister, the less strange one. She was suspiciously…competent in bed. He could swear she was supposed to be a maiden. She was- bled during the bedding ceremony when he first fucked her.

But the way she rode his cock was good. Too good. Aegon knew he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Frankly, it was eating him up. She even gave fantastic head! Who the fuck had taught her that? He narrowed his eyes at her, the fellow blonde looking bored at supper.

Aegon took a swig of his wine, eyes dark as he studied her. Maybe if he looked long enough someone would jump up and act jealous. What if she was secret fuckmates with his nephew? Aegon had a vague memory of a sordid rumor regarding Jacaerys Velaryon's horse cock. He would kill himself, truly. He could imagine the letter, “Sorry mother, I couldn’t take that shame, yes I know I live in constant shame, but this was the final straw.”

His sister-wife was staring now. She raised a brow in question. “Why are you staring at me like that?” Aegon grumbled, “Nothing. Just looking. Can’t have a look, alright then.”

She scoffed, “You can look, but you’re looking as if you’re about to eat my face.”

Oh. Aegon blushed in embarrassment. He drank more wine, mumbling a ‘sorry’. He didn’t want to broach the subject at supper. The prince’s damn family was nosy enough as is, he didn’t need Aemond’s big ass nose in his ear. Or one of those frightful looks from Alicent. If Aegon got lectured by Otto or Criston he would consider stabbing himself.

Aegon mulled over what he should do next between bites of mutton. She obviously wasn’t going to the Street of Silk, because that was his domain. Someone would’ve peeped already. He reluctantly knew when Daemon was visiting. Every. Damn. Time. Why would Aegon want to hear about the fuckhead's potency issues?

Mayhaps he should get her on the cusp of orgasm and demand who her secret lover-teacher-whatever was. That seemed sound enough to Aegon. When he was about to nut? One could ask him anything, there would be an answer. The prince smiled enigmatically, laughing to himself.

To which his sister-wife said, “You’re acting strange tonight.”

Aegon cooed, “Sorry, just dreaming a bit.”

Under the table he put a lecherous hand on her thigh, squeezing over her soft dress. His sister blushed and squirmed, fork awkwardly clanking across the plate. The woman hissed, “Okay I get it!” She cleared her throat, ignoring any stares. Aegon smirked and squeezed a bit higher, plump lips splitting into a grin.

Aegon had immediately crowded her smaller frame in the bedroom, plush lips attacking her neck, impatient hands pulling at her dress. She moaned, walking backward into the bed, yelping when Aegon crawled atop. He murmured, “You looked ravishing tonight, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Uh, huh, the clasps you fool,” she groaned.

Aegon huffed, probably tearing the fabric as he separated the back of the dress. She began to shuck the dress off while he awkwardly pulled off his breeches. They giggled a bit making eye contact; Aegon unbuttoning his tunic and her unlacing the corset. Soon they were both naked, grinning and kissing, her soft skin rubbing against his.

Aegon grabbed her thighs, mouthing at a tit and playfully nipping at it. She squeaked, thighs tightening around his waist, throwing long blonde hair back. His wife cried out, “Aegon! Quit playing!” He pulled off her nipple, murmuring between little kisses, “Why, is the princess needy?”

He slipped a ringed finger between her folds, finding her wetter than expected. Aegon dipped into her cunt, laughing, “Ah she is, little whore.” The princess writhed a bit, leaning up to capture his lips, lapping into his mouth hungrily. The prince returned her eager movements, curling his fingers into her pussy, letting her ride his hand.

“Fuck, you’re a doll,” he swore, “Perfect.”

She whined and arched up into him, hips canting on his hand. Aegon used his other hand to play with her sensitive tits, thumb circling around a budded nipple. She shivered and cried his name again, a pretty blush diffusing across her pallid skin. The prince hummed “Are you going to come for me sweetling? So soon?”

“Ngh, please, yes Aegon!”

He sped up his movements, feeling her tighten and twitch, the princess on the precipice. Aegon moaned before gathering himself, his pulsing cock was scrambling relative coherency. As it did. He panted, “Gonna count down and I want you to let go okay? Then I’ll fuck your pretty cunt.”

She nodded with lidded eyes, mouth hung open. The picture of ecstasy. Aegon smirked as he spoke.

…10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…

“Oh gods Aegon!”

“Who are you fucking!”

She writhed through the helpless orgasm, confusion evident on her twisting features. Aegon couldn’t help but throb AND be quite annoyed. He slurped the juices off his fingers, leaning back with a look. The prince was feeling sullen and not sure if he wanted to play anymore. His wife stared up at him and echoed “Who…am I fucking. What?”

Aegon pouted. This didn’t go to plan. He rolled his eyes and explained, “You excel, frighteningly so, at our bedroom activities. Yes, yes I know you were still a maiden at our wedding. But I am onto you, I don't know much but I do know about fucking, dearest."

“Are you kidding me? This is ludicrous Aegon!”

She had sat up now, crossing her arms, lips pouty. The prince stated as if it was obvious, “You know your way around a cock. Obviously, this comes with experience. I’ve bedded many a maiden and they usually just stare until you flip them over. So who’s the secret mentor?”

She scoffed in horror, cheeks reddening further, “I can’t believe this Aegon! You’re an idiot! I’m not fucking anyone else! Unlike you!”

“Lies you tell, no spring maiden has gargled my balls!” he accused, face growing equally red in frustration, ringed finger pointing at her.

His sister grew quiet, looking away. She mumbled “Fine. Do you want to know who it is so bad? This stays between us.”

Aegon nodded, impatiently gesturing for her to come out with it. She seemed to grow more uncomfortable. Then spit out a name so low and fast he couldn’t hear. Tonight might be the night he explodes. The prince groaned, “Oh my gods, just say it in a normal tone!”

“Larys Strong!”

What?

He burst into laughter. The prince guffawed, clutching his stomach, shaking with humor. She gaped “What? I’m not lying!” Aegon laughed some more thinking about the foot monger, he’s a bigger virgin than anyone in the keep. He breathlessly chuckled, “Good one, yeah right dear.”

She began to pull on her chemise, annoyed now. Aegon grasped at her thigh, pleading between fits of giggles, “I don’t know why you’re hiding this? I don’t care who you go and find pleasure with. Unless it’s truly Larys. C’monnnn love don’t leave.”

“This isn’t a laughing matter. You’re making up things. What if I’m just good at carnal activities hm Aegon? You're an ass!”

Aegon contemplated the possibility, “Sure, that could be true. Now stop being huffy and come here. I said I’d fuck your pretty pussy.”

She stared down at him before taking her chemise back off. The princess hissed, “You’re a right asshole you know that? You better fuck me good. Prick.”

Aegon laughed again, cheeks hurting from his fit of humor. He maneuvered her onto all fours, sliding his cock against her still-wet folds. He pressed kisses to her shoulder, nosing sweet-smelling hair. He placed a hand on her tight stomach, humming, “I’m sorry dear, I’ll make it better Hm?” He slid in, watching her pretty eyes roll up in her head.

Aegon still wanted to know who his sister was fornicating. She probably was still seeing this person. All he knew was that they resided in the Red Keep and certainly not Larys Strong. The prince had to open his mind to the possibilities of women too. There were many a pretty handmaiden who tended to his wife.

He frowned in thought, sipping his wine. Aegon sat next to his stiff bitch of a brother in the library of all places. Secretly, Aegon hoped the knowledge in the room would give him some magical foresight gift- but not that weird shit Helaena did sometimes.

His wife fucking a handmaiden- that felt too overt. He’d only seen his sister gag and moon over visiting knights and lordlings. Next to Aegon sat his irritated brother. Aemond was quiet, too quiet. He and their sister got along quite well? Aegon's eyes turned to his not-so-little brother.

“Aem.”

“Why are you speaking to me? I’m trying to read.”

“I have a question. That's why, you frozen-faced ass.”

Aemond picked his head up and glared, slamming his book closed. He huffed “What, oh, what, could your drunkenness possibly ask from me? No, I’m not covering your ass again.”

Aegon snorted. His brother was such a frigid quim. He acted like Criston Cole, peacocking around the place, chip on their shoulder. The elder asked “Look. I’ll just be blunt with you. Our sister, my wife. She is merely too good in the sack. Are you fucking her? Is she fucking you?”

Aemond’s jaw audibly clicked in annoyance. He struggled over his tongue, face red. The second son stood up, slamming his hands on the stone. He retreated with a swish of hair and growled, “Buffoon.”

Aegon called after him, “Your behavior has not marked you off my list!”

"Fuck you and your list! Drunkard!!"

Icy little prick. Aegon rolled his eyes, pondering on his next target. Perhaps Jason Lannister? He was wooing any Targaryen princess for his sons. Or possibly Ser Arryk, her sworn shield. Aegon would go to them next. Then maybe do a night check on Aemond’s quarters. His wife was busy with their mother all day anyway. How boring.

Safe to say the prince was still vexed. Jason Lannister laughed in his face and Ser Arryk was extremely confused. He replied in that dumb voice of his, “The princess and I? I’m not that simple your grace. Some of us Kingsguard do take our vows seriously, although I can’t say the same for others.”

He refused to elaborate afterward, Aegon throwing his hands up and moving to the next destination. While walking, he pondered Arryk’s words. Could it be another Kingsguard? Maybe Erryk? Criston had already used up his one allotted Princess fucking and it turned him sour. Erryk would stay on Aegon’s list, the other men too plain ugly or on Dragonstone.

Too annoyed to try any decorum, Aegon simply kicked Aemond’s door open. The younger prince squawked in shock, his hair flying around. Why was there a portrait of Daemon? Why was there another half-finished portrait of Aemond obviously in the same style? Aegon spluttered, “What the fuck? You’re so weird! Daemon? Blech brother!”

Aemond, hair tied back and wearing simple clothes smudged with paint— was positively furious. He hollered, “Get the hell out! I’m not fornicating with our sister! She’s your wife! Say a word of this and I’m making you a Eunuch!”

Aegon was booted out, literally, as in Aemond’s big fucking boot kicked him in the arse.

“Should’ve known. Weirdo,” Aegon grumbled.

He limped back to his quarters, dreadfully needing a sip of wine and someone’s lips around his cock. Today was dreadful. He actually tried to do something. Which trying was rare for him! The prince went to open his door, only to step back when Ser Criston exited.

He raised a brow. Criston looked at him blankly, dark eyes placid. Aegon asked, “What were you doing?” The Kingsguard scoffed, “Your sister was having a fit about a spider, I heard her yowling and killed said spider. Goodnight my prince.”

Aegon glared at the surly marcher, shaking his head and entering the chambers. He immediately went to the table and drank straight from the bottle, deep, deep pulls of relief. The blonde placed it down and sighed, turning towards his bed.

His wife sat there, eyes wide, wearing only her askew shift. Aegon bitched, “Oh. Nice to see you too. Maybe a ‘Hello lord husband, how are you?’ would suffice.”

The Princess’ cheeks were pink. He guessed from the embarrassment of having Ser Criston kill a small bug. Then explained again why Ser Criston had to kill a small bug. She mumbled, “Oh, sorry, I thought you were at the brothels.”

Aegon plopped down in a chair, grabbing the bottle. He whined, “Nope! Been trying to find out who your mystery lover is all day. No one wants to pipe up! I should’ve gone.”

She gazed downwards, biting on swollen lips. The princess stood up on shaky legs, making her way to Aegon and kneeling between his lax thighs. She hummed, tracing a finger up one, feeling the muscle twitch. His sister mused, “Can I take your mind off this mystery lover? You’re much more desirable to me. Don't they say the blood of the dragon reaches out to another?”

“Sure, definitely” he whined again. Aegon would pout this out, it was his specialty. He honestly was hurt, why couldn’t he know their identity? Sure he’d get jealous and probably ban her from seeing them but still! He was sad!

“Am I that unappealing to you?” he whimpered, tears pricking at violet eyes, frustration and self-pity leaking over.

She sighed heavily, wrapping her arms around his midsection. The princess laid her head upon his thigh and cooed, “No. You’re my husband, my blood, we are a union now. That partnership…started because I was afraid you would find me boring. So I wanted to know how to please a man.”

Aegon sulked and sniffled some more, taking another deep drink from his goblet. The familiar fuzz was coming along nicely, patching up his insecurities. But it was nice to hear her admit a smidgeon of truth. She kissed his leg and continued, “Aegon dear, have I not pleased you? It was a transaction between the person and me. They wished to make their identity a secret so as not to catch your wroth. I no longer see them like that. I hate that you’re upset, I did this for you.”

Aegon nodded, feeling a bit better. His sister was good. She easily melted his pouting protocol. The female Targaryen rubbed his thighs and moved her mouth to hover over his clothed cock, eyes looking up as she breathed, “Now baby, just relax and let me make this better, hm?”

He moaned softly as she mouthed over his swelling member, nimble fingers untying his breeches, other hand massaging the soft flesh and meat of his thigh. She eased Aegon’s cock and his sac out, groaning with a flutter of her long lashes. The prince squirmed a bit, breathing heavier, holding off a whine.

“Just you and me, sweet baby.”

She was increasingly convincing kitten licking the ruddy head of his prick like that. The girl’s dainty hand wrapped around his length, the other going to hold his balls, keeping them nice and compressed. Aegon’s back arched when she eased him into a silky wet mouth, tongue massaging the underside as his wife hollowed her mouth.

“Mmm,” she hummed.

Aegon responded with a noise he’d rather not dwell on. It was very…emasculating. Gods, she was so good at this. He needed to get over his qualms and just fuck her so good the princess wouldn't stray again. Good and obedient- all for Aegon. He eased her off gently, demanding, "Lay across the bed. Now."

Wide purple eyes stared at him. She murmured, "What? I- I don't need that, let me take care of you."

Aegon shook his head, grinning, the drink emboldening him. Something about Arbor Red made him impossibly aroused and giddy. He jerked his chin toward the plush bed and laughed. His sister got up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. She padded and leaned her body over the bed, long legs spread, chemise discarded to display her swollen cunt to him.

Aegon pulled off his breeches as he stalked over, eyes drinking in her pussy. He smacked a hand across her ass and grabbed the stinging flesh. He asked roughly "Did your mystery lover sneak out the servant's exit when Ser Criston heard your yowling?"

"Yes, yes! Sorry, fucking yes!" she shouted.

Aegon's face darkened at her puffy and slick cunt, obvious signs of someone having a feast down there. He ran the blunt tip of his swollen cock across her folds, groaning as he smacked her clit. The prince snapped "You're a goddamn lying slut you know that? A match made in heaven with me huh? Did Ser Criston walk in when you were getting your cunt licked?" He wound a fist in her blonde tresses, pulling it tight.

She shivered and shook her head, whining, "N-ohh, he didn't see!"

"Hm, sure, probably took a peak, the weird bitch. Whatever, I guess I'll have to fuck this person out of your mind? Or you're coming with me to the brothels sister dearest."

He slid into her tight hole, gasping at the ridges and warmth. Aegon tightened the fist in her hair. Maybe he'd fuck a babe in her tonight, then she'd be stuck in his quarters surrounded by maesters and tittering handmaidens. Eugh. Aegon huffed and fucked her at a brisk pace, his other hand smacking her ass every other thrust.

His sister-wife moaned, taking his cock like she was made for it. She fucked back onto him, back arched, tits bouncing. Her cheeks were delightfully flushed as she panted Aegon's name, eyes wet and wide. Aegon leaned over her form and growled, "Don't know who this fucker is but I will find out. He better know whose cunt this is, eh? Shout it, tell the whole goddamn keep who you belong to, sister."

Aegon relished in her little whimper, his fingers pinching her clit as he forced her hips up to drive into her good spot harder. He bit and lapped at her neck, hissing, "C'mon and say it or I'll lock your ass up here with no visitors. Just me and I'll get my fill, fucking snake." She blubbered, seizing around his cock a hair.

"Oh gods, please don't make me howl like that, Aegon, please!"

He fucked the princess rougher, holding her gaze with a tight grip around her chin. She bit her lip, eyes mournful before shouting, "Only you Aegon, I belong to you, yes big brother! Yes! I belong to my husband!"

Aegon grinned like the cat that got the cream. He cooed, "Good little sister, knew you still had it in you." He gripped her throat and refocused on fucking her until she cried. Aegon pinched and licked, played with her tits, circled her clit until she came all over him- yet the prince was still fit to go. Sweet sister was a mess now- covered in bites and hickeys, sweaty hair plastered to her neck. The younger blonde whimpered, "Aeg- Aegon, I- I can't possibly do this again!"

Her eyes were frantic, her cute body shaking and coming apart wondrously. Aegon hummed, "You will come for me again sweetling. I know you can, just whining on my prick like you were paid for it? Does he fuck you like this huh? Make you see stars?"

"N-noooo, only you!"

"Good girl, come on now, wanna feel that sweet pussy of yours cream around me one more time. Then I'll fill you up deep- maybe he won't come around when you are all ripe with," he punctuated his next words with thrusts, "My. Goddamn. Child."

The princess wailed softly, overused and overstimulated. She felt the crest of another burning orgasm flaring up and forcing red hot tears down her blotchy cheeks. It was intense and she cried harder when Aegon's thick seed stuffed her twitching cunt and womb to the brim. He seemed to be satisfied now, cooing at her, "There we go, ffuck, that's my sweet girl. See, don't need anyone else around now hm?"

Aegon wiped her gorgeous tears, smiling victoriously. She cuddled into his arms, letting her husband soothe and stroke her trembling flesh. He even hollered for a servant to grab some water. The prince murmured, "You did so good, such a good wife, yes, maybe just a bit of punishment does sweet sister well." He grew quieter and pressed a kiss to her soft forehead, "I love you, truly, for tolerating a failure like me."

She smiled softly and pecked Aegon's full lips, her own swollen from tonight. Aegon wiped her tears as she sighed, "I love you too Aegon. Buffoon you may be. I hope the seed takes. No more about mystery lovers. The whole keep has heard now sweetheart."

Aegon smirked, hoping every single soul heard.

One soul in particular did, his black gloves tightening in annoyance. He was down the hall before turning back and having to hear the heir...rudely fuck his sister-wife. With a growl and swish of the cloak, the true mystery lover was gone. She'd be back in his arms sooner or later. Aegon couldn't fuck him out of her soft heart.

[hanniebaeee]

This man

Best friend Jeonghan x fem!reader

Warnings: maybe a little swearing, kissing

Genre: idiots to lovers, fluff/suggestive MDNI

Summary: You've loved your best friend, Jeonghan, since forever. You're so obvious, but he's an idiot. The question is, are you an idiot too?

You spot Jeonghan as soon as you step into the cafe. This was one of your most favorite cafes, so many good memories here. He was with Joshua (as usual). You and Jeonghan were best friends since primary school, and he found Joshua during his University years. Two best friends from two different times.

You wave hi and take off your coat, hanging it on the back of your chair before sitting down. Jeonghan looked at what you were wearing and smiled. Somehow you two had managed to dress similarly on one too many occasions. Today he wore a pastel green and white chequered shirt with light blue jeans, while you were dressed in a pastel green dress with little white daisies sprinkled on it.

'So, what was so important that I had to get here asap?' You ask.

'Were you busy?' Joshua asked. 'We could have met later.'

'I was working on something with Ver-' You were cut off by Jeonghan who was placing your order all of a sudden, very loudly.

He knew your regular order from here, so he ordered without even asking you. And you just stare at him (a little starstruck every time, but also with a stab of annoyance this time). Communication wasn't one of Jeonghan's strongest points and miscommunication, on the other hand, his natural self. You knew he was mad about something.

'So you were saying?' Joshua said, taking a sip of his coffee.

'Right. I was with VERNON.' You said, emphasising on your friend's name because you knew this made Jeonghan very jealous.

You didn't even know what it was about Vernon that got to Jeonghan so much. Vernon was one of the coolest people you've ever met. You felt lucky to be working with him since he always had the most creative ideas (and best snacks and the bestest cats!).

'Oh right, how's that new project going?' Joshua asked, ignoring Jeonghan's annoyed sighs.

'Really well!' You reply with a smile and you could sense Jeonghan's eyes bore holes into your head.

'What's the matter Jeonghan?' You ask, giving him an irritated look. 'What are you looking at me like that for?!'

'I'm waiting for you to stop gushing over Vernon for a minute' Jeonghan retorted.

'Yah! I wasn't gushing!' You snap, kicking him under the table.

'Oh real mature, Y/N' he grumbled kicking you back. But his shoe landed on your bare calf, making you gasp.

'That's my leg you idiot!' You say, glaring at him.

He looked to the side as you lift your leg from under the table. His expression changed immediately.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' he cooed suddenly, bending down to run his hand over the skin. You feel butterflies in your tummy as his fingers touch your skin.

'It's alright.' You said, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

You sit up straight, only to see Joshua giving you a look.

'What?!' I mouthed to him and he just shook his head with a grin.

Jeonghan straightened as well and said 'You obviously enjoy spending time with him more than with me now.'

'Like you enjoy spending time with Joshua more than with me?' You tease back.

'I don't!' Jeonghan whined.

'Yah!' Joshua had a funny frown on his face.

'Stop bullying me now!' Jeonghan said, taking a bite of his cake.

'Ok ok, so what's the 'thing' you had to tell me?' You ask, digging your fork into Jeonghan's cake.

'So we're having a party at ours this weekend to celebrate the release of my first single album!' Joshua said with a big grin. 'It's doing really well, so we thought we should celebrate. Just some close friends.'

'Oh great!' You said with a smile. 'It's all I see every time I open social media!'

Joshua blushed and said, 'You should bring Vernon too.'

'Of course I will.' You said and you could see Jeonghan rolling his eyes at that.

Jeonghan was mad at you all day. He ignored you and backed out of any conversation you were part of. It made you so mad!.

'Whats the matter babe?' Vernon asked.

'Hannie's being a bitch and I don't even know why!' You muttered, taking his cup from him and sipping his drink.

'Go talk to him' Vernon said with a shrug.

'Right, he runs away every time I try.' You said sadly, sitting next to him, and placing you head on his shoulder. He rested his head on yours and said, 'You two are the biggest idiots I know.'

'What? Why?!' You asked sitting up and looking at him.

'Because, Jeonghan is whipped for you. And you are for him. Two idiots.'

'He's my best friend.' You said with a pout.

'So? Can't best friends love each other? Can't they be a couple?' Vernon asked.

'Yah, don't be loud!' You whispered, touching his hand.

'Well?' He asked. 'I know you love him. Not as a best friend, but as something more.'

'I can't risk it, Vernon. He's not just my friend, he's literally my whole life.' You said sadly. 'I would rather be his friend than going and ruining it all for more.'

'Darling, he feels the same way' he said. 'You should see the way he looks at you and the way he's glaring at me right now' Vernon laughed.

'Stop it!' You said, slapping his hand. 'Oh God, help me!'

'Go for it!' Vernon hyped you up. 'Please, so that he would stop giving me those death stares'.

'He does not!' You said, not believing your own words since you knew how he felt about your friendship with Vernon.

'Please turn around' Vernon said, and you did slowly.

Jeonghan had a drink in hand and he leaned against the door to the kitchen. He WAS actually glaring at you both. You have never seen such a look on Jeonghan. He wasn't a hot head. He actually never got that mad - he was more into solving his problems strategically than with his fists.

'You should go.' Vernon said again, nudging you with his elbow.

'I think I should' You agree and stand up. Taking a deep breath, you walk towards Jeonghan. Seeing you, he pushed himself off the door and started walking away. You run, blocking his way.

'Hey!' You said, 'I want to talk.'

'I don't' he said, trying to step away. He was way taller than you, so it wasn't that hard for him to escape.

'Hannie please!', You said in a small voice, head hung. The only voice you knew would get him. You were right because he froze and turned to look at you. Taking your chin between his index finger and thumb, he raised your face up.

'What's wrong?' He asked, his voice laced with worry.

'We have to talk' You said, and he nodded, taking your hand and leading you to his bedroom. He shut the door behind you. Folding his hands against his chest, he said 'Go on'

You squirmed under his gaze. He was just looking and you were falling apart.

'Um' Your voice and vocabulary decided to say goodbye at the very moment and you stood gaping at the gorgeous man in front of you. His beautiful brown eyes set on you and his dark hair falling over his forehead, almost over his eyes. His black round neck T-shirt and light blue jeans looked perfect on him. You thought he was way too beautiful for someone like you.

You felt the soft material of your navy blue dress crumble under your tight grip.

'What's it sweetheart?' He asked softly. 'Since when do you need all this time and formality to tell me anything, hm?

'Since I'm an idiot and a little bit greedy at this point.' You said, blushing.

'What do you mean?' He asked.

You couldn't look at him. You were embarrassed of yourself, and your pathetic attempt to tell this gorgeous human being that you have been in love with him for a good 10 years. You wanted to cry and you wanted him to just understand already. But Hannie's a tease. Even if he knew he wouldn't say anything.

You sigh and said, 'Sorry I wasted your time, Hannie. You should get back to your party.'

He looked way too shocked to even move. And the look on his face scared you to death.

'You've gotta be kidding me!' He said, his eyes wide.

'Whaat?!' You whine.

'You should try not to tease a man like that!' He growled. 'I just want to spank you for all the times you bring it this far and brush me off!'

'Oh woah woah woah!' You say, holding your hands up. 'Me?! I AM THE TEASE NOW?!'

'Of course you are!! Every single time I think that it's about to happen you pull away! You FUCKING pull away and leave me hanging!'

'I've NEVER brushed you off!' You said, your body shaking. 'Why would I ?!'

'Why don't you tell me that?' Jeonghan snapped.

'Why don't you?'

'You first'

'Jeonghan!' You let out a frustrated sigh.

'I won't let you out of this room until you give me an honest answer.' Jeonghan said, shaking his head.

'Oh right, we'll see about that!' You snap and walk towards the door.

He was there first with his bloody long legs. He blocked your way, locked the door and pressed his back to it.

'Move.' You said as seriously as youbcould. 'Now.'

'I'm sorry, can't do that'

'Why Jeonghan, pray tell!' You said, trying to pry him off the door.

'You know why sweetheart' he said, his voice low and menacing.

'I don't! I can't think why, ok?' You lied, even though could see it now. Vernon was right. THIS MAN!

'Oh you know.' jeonghan teased. 'I can see it on your face.'

'I could just kill you right now!' You mutter, taking your hands off him.

'You naughty girl. Brining Vernon here even though you know that it makes me so mad.' He said, taking a step towards you.

'Hannie. Stop.' You said, putting your hands against his chest to hold him back. 'Vernon is my friend. You know that.'

'Really? Just a friend?' Jeonghan asked, his voice anything but innocent.

'Yes' You said.

'Doesn't feel like it'

'Wow, sounds like a you problem!'

He took another step forward, you took one back. The back of your legs hit his bed and you lost balance. You plopped down at the edge of the bed, looking up at him. Your heart raced and the butterflies in your tummy did you no good. He just looked at you and he looked absolutely ravishing.

'Jeonghan, stop looking at me like that!' You whine, covering your warm face with your cold hands.

You hear a chuckle before he kneels down in front of you.

'What's wrong baby?' He teased, his hands on your wrists, pulling your hands off your face. 'Don't hide from me.'

'Oh my God!' You were absolutely melting under his gaze.

He laughed, not his usual gremlin laugh, but a more sweeter one.

'Are you shy?' He asked. 'Really? For me?'

'I won't shy away from slapping you if you don't stop teasing me!' You warn him.

'Go on then.' He said, turning his face a bit, showing you his right cheek. 'I don't think I can ever stop.'

And you shocked yourself by pressing a kiss on his soft cheek. And before you could pull back, you felt his hand at the nape of your neck. And his lips against yours. You think you died for a moment there, before he pulled you back to life.

Biting his lip, he watched you. Then he kissed you again. And again. And again.

'Baby why are you crying?' He asked, his forehead pressed to yours.

You didn't even realize that you were crying until he asked that question. Wiping your face quickly with the back of your hands, you said 'I've wanted to do that for so long, Hannie'

'How long?' He asked, tilting his head.

'Um... 10 years?' You said, shy and embarrassed.

'What?!' That incredulous look came back to his face. 'You kept this from me for 10 years?!'

'I was scared!' You said. 'I didn't want to lose you!'

'Did you ever stop to think that maybe I felt it too? Why do you think I never had a girlfriend? Why did I put you first all the time?'

'I thought you had a secret girlfriend because you used to giggle into your phone all the time after you started uni!' You said with a shrug.

'What?! I don't giggle!' He said, squeezing your thigh.

'That's not the point. The point is that I thought you met someone at uni. Until I knew that it was just Joshua. Then I thought you were with Joshua!'

'You DID NOT!' he said, turning beet red.

'I'm sorry, Hannie. I knew that when you brought him home' I said giving him a sheepish smile. 'He wouldn't stop flirting with me, haha'

'Mhm' he said with a smile. 'And?'

'And?'

'You wanted to say something?' He asked, his hand still on your thigh.

'Maybe' you muttered. 'Since you're being a big baby and you won't say it first.'

He didn't say anything, just grinned.

'I love you, Hannie. I'm so in love with you.' You said, your insides feeling warm and fuzzy. 'So so much.'

'Yeah?' He asked, cupping your face with his hands. 'That's good, because I'm in love with you too.'

You squeal like a little girl and throw your arms around him, giggling and kissing his cheek.

'Say it again' you say, holding him close.

'I love you. I love you. I love you.' He said, hugging you tight. He kissed you again, long and deep. His lips are wet and warm on yours. This is simply the bestest kiss ever. Then with one arm around you, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone.

'Shua's looking for us' he said, putting it back.

'Come on, let's get back to the party. Poor Shua.' You said, standing up.

On your way to the door, you stopped still as you felt his hand land a slap on your butt. Face red and voice shaky, you asked, 'What was that for?!'

'For cuddling up to Vernon before' Jeonghan replied simply.

'I thought we were over that'

'You deserve it for teasing me all day!'

'Says the tease!' You retort and move back quickly as he took big steps towards you, caging you between his body and the door, his arms on either side of you. You grin even though this made your legs go all wobbly.

'You are so hot, oh my god!' You said, hands covering your face again.

He laughed and said 'I'm trying to look intimidating here!'

'Ok, hot and intimidating' You said, as he pulled your hands off your face. Again.

He just leaned forward and delivered another mind blowing kiss. 'And, just so you know, you're hot as fuck too'

You laughed and said, 'I love you Hannie'

'I love more, baby.' he said with a wink.

Joshua and Vernon grinned like idiots as they saw you, but were kind enough to keep the teasing for later. But you knew that you wouldn't hear the end of it for a very long time.

When Jeonghan drove you back home, you asked him if he wanted to go up to your apartment with you.

'And do what?' He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

'Shut up!' You said, turning away to hide your burning cheeks.

He laughed, parking the car and coming up with you. Your roommate was spending the weekend with her boyfriend so you had the house to yourself. Keeping your shoes on the rack near the door, you walked in, for the first time as a couple.

Jeonghan followed you into your bedroom and climbed into your bed. He patted the spot next to him and held out his hand for you. Heart fluttering and legs shaking, you were way too nervous.

Though you have had way too many naughty dreams and fantasies about Jeonghan, seeing him on your bed was a bit scary. You've slept on the same bed so many times over the years, but things are so different and easy when you're just friends.

You put your hand in his, letting him pull you into his arms. Placing your head in his chest and listening to his heartbeats felt surreal. He may have noticed how tense your body was because he kissed your forehead and said 'We don't have to do anything today, ok? I just want to cuddle with you and kiss you for now. We can take it slow.'

'Thank you Hannie' You said, feeling relieved.

You place a soft kiss on his chest. Jeonghan smiled and pulled you closer, if that was even possible. Flush against his toned body, you were trembling a bit.

'Hannie?'

'Yeah?'

'I've only ever dreamed of this...I can't believe you're really here, like this-' You didn't even know what you were saying.

'Yeah? What other dreams do you have? We'll make them all true!' Jeonghan whispered, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

'Don't be so cute!' You said, burying your face in his chest again.

His breathy laughs were the best. Everything about him was just more beautiful now. He's your boyfriend after all.

a/n: I'm in love with these cute dividers by @saradika ❤

[dolicekiss]

Cherry Tree

PAIRING: Johann Struensee x Princess!Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ only, mdni) age gap (reader is nineteen, Johann is in his 30s as his age isn't specified in the movie), unprotected sex, body worshipping, oral (female receiving) fingering, slight food play, teasing, forbidden romance/affair, exhibitionism, praise kink, cold shoulder (reader is a sassy little princess), angst, fluff, johann is completely whipped for reader, just overall cute and sad shit because i bawled my eyes out watching a royal affair and johann deserves a happy ending.

SYNOPSIS: You were not fond of the new physician hired for your father, the king as the man led him astray, especially from your mother to brothels. So you always gave him the cold shoulder, not missing a chance to disrespect him but what you didn't know was the man was already attracted to you, stealing glances from you and finding you endearing everytime you insulted him.

You watched your father, throwing a fit, drunk in the hallway of the palace while your mother watched, drowning further in the humiliation of being married to such a hopeless and destroyed man.

Alongside stood Johann Struensee, and two new faces you didn't deem important. You couldn't hold back the quip that settled like poison at your tongue when Johann had told your mother that they were merely having fun. Having fun while humiliating her in brothels.

Your fingers scratched against the parapet, watching it unfold.

“I don't think the queen is interested in what a mere doctor has got to say, Struensee.” Everyone's attention shifted to you. They all knew how bold and fierce of a princess you were, your mother's pride and joy. The kingdom’s rebellious little princess. Just at the age of nineteen, you'd already mastered the art of raw manipulation.

Knowing that docile little women were trampled underneath the foot of court men.

Struensee’s gaze found you standing at the parapet from above and he smiled, his wrinkles appearing. Then he nodded his head and went silent, disappearing along with the king somewhere. Your father didn't care much for you, since you were a girl. Producing an heir was the only thing that mattered and he'd already done that.

Relieved himself of his duties to indulge in alcohol and prostitutes.

Your mother sent you a look of sadness but also a nod of appreciation, leaving for her chambers. The night passed by like nothing while you stirred in bed, clouded by thoughts on how to get rid of Struensee.

He clung onto the king and that displeased you.

Tomorrow came by and you were prepared for the day, to roam around the halls of the palace but you found more solace in the massive gardens. Filled with flowers and all sorts of fruits. Dressed in lace and net, you headed for breakfast. Everyone else was already situated at the table, including the man you despised.

As you sat down on the chair, in front of Johann’s, you began your breakfast. The conversation happening at the table was of no interest to you but then your father, the king spoke up. Catching everyone's attention.

“Johann will be becoming a part of the court soon enough.” His tone cheerful, as if everyone was pleased with the idea as much as he was.

Your fingers tightened around the metallic fork, stabbing it into the egg. It was an act you wished you'd done to Johann instead of the egg — biting down the inside of your cheek. Your mother was a frail woman, she didn't like the idea of Johann joining court but she couldn't do much to oppose it.

You, on the other hand, smiled.

“Forgive me for my words, but the court is full of respectful and renowned people.” The sound of metallic utensils colliding against one another stalled. “Johann Struensee is only a doctor, he would do the court no good.”

Your father thought but laughed out, pointing his finger at you. Everyone else stared at the scene unfold as Johann also joined in the king to laugh along, fuelling the anger that boiled inside you like a damn volcano.

“What would a woman know about the court? Eat your breakfast, stupid girl.” You sucked in your cheek, glancing at your mother who looked at you with an apologetic look. There was a voice inside you telling you to raise the fork and stab Johann with it.

But with your poorly containerd rage, you stood up from the seat. “I am sated.”

You left the room but not before throwing a vicious glare at the man with dirty blonde hair, who stared back at you. With a smug of victory on his face. Upon entering your room, you tossed your gloves off and kicked your shoes off.

Angered and irritated.

Hating the way your breasts felt plush against the tight corset. Having such feminine thighs or a cunt, which changed the way people saw perceived you as. Your word would have mattered if you were a man, if you possessed a fucking cock and not the parts which made you a woman.

There was a knock on the door and when you allowed the person in, it was your maiden.

“Doctor Johan Struensee wishes to enter your chambers, Princess.”

You wanted to tell her to forbade him. To abandon him from entering your chambers ever but you couldn't let him win by expressing your anger so you nodded. When you felt his presence, you turned around on your sock cladded feet and smiled at him.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Struensee?”

Your tone venomous and sarcastic.

Johann returned your smile, knowing very well it was fake. He didn't like how your father had spoken to you as he was a firm believer of women deserving the same respect as men did. Though voicing out such daring opinions could lead to his execution. Even if you had expressed your distaste against him, seemingly believing he was a bad influence to the king, he still thought you deserved respect.

“I apologize.” He said, firmly and you blinked on confusion.

Why was he apologising?

Your smile stayed tight. “And why are you apologizing, Doctor?”

He took a step closer, shrinking the space between the two of you. You didn't know if it was your mind playing games with you or if Struensee’s gaze had lingered to the pink hue of your lips. “I'm aware of the crown Princess’ distaste towards the King’s friends, specifically me.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and oblivious to you, Johann inhaled a sharp breath when your plush breasts nearly spilled out from beneath your tight corset. Pinkish color decorating the skin. You turned around from him, walking towards the books decorating your wooden shelf.

“Then you should not be here, Doctor. I'm very against the idea of you being on court, knowing you're the one who influences the royal highness to visit brothels.” Your voice was sweet but it was laced with a poisonous warning. Your delicate fingers ran across the books and Johann closed his eyes.

Mind taking him to a different place, imagining just how your fingers would look entangled with his.

This was immoral and a crime.

You were the Princess and he was a mere Doctor, twice your age too. There was no way you'd give in to him or even consider him attractive. He was here to apologize, he reminded himself. To be reprimanded by you for laughing along with the King at his humiliation of you.

Instead you were enticing him unknowingly.

“A man cannot be influenced by anyone if he swears loyalty to his woman.” Johann’s words made a bitter frown to cease your features. Even before his arrival, you'd known of your father's indulgence in women outside his marriage. In a way you only wanted to blame someone and seeing how Johann only increased your father’s visits to the disgusting brothels, he was the perfect vessel.

You scoffed. “I don't understand. A cunt is a cunt, no matter who it is attached to.”

His eyes widened at your choice of bold and immoral words. He knew you possessed ferocity and boldnesd, both perfect to rule over the kingdom but he didn't know you had such a filthy tongue too.

Johann was impressed and in complete awe.

He suppressed a smile. “How much power and resistance can it take to stay loyal to a woman? You men have and will always find ways to disappoint us women throughout the history.”

You hated the idea of serving under a man, obeying his every command and dealing with the non stop disrespect. You wanted to be queen, to fix the laws set by your ancestors and to rid people of this delusion under the pretense of religion.

Johann found himself more attracted to you now, seeing you in a different light. Before you were only a little girl who threw fits because she disliked him but now, you were a woman with big dreams and strength.

“I'm impressed, Princess.”

You looked at him, with a fake smile. “I wish I could say the same for you, Doctor Stuensee.”

A chuckle nearly slipped him. He soon excused himself from your company, leaving your chambers. The whole night he thought about you, how delicate you were but also strong and resilient. Having lived between women who were docile, weak and often easily silenced, you were a breath of fresh air for him.

— ♡ —

Your maidens had dressed you up. In frills and lace. The stupid, endless routine boring you to death. Denmark was a beautiful country and you wished to explore it yet your gender did not allow you to. You skipped breakfast, not wanting to face your father or Johann, aftwe the humiliation he'd caused you and headed for the garden. You grasped onto your book and dismissed your maidens for a moment of solitude.

Away from all the bickering and banter of royalty.

You sat on a cemented bench, parting open your book to read it. The birds sung in beautiful, minor chirps and the sound of the water droplets falling from the tip of leaves was comforting to the ears. Next to you was a cherry tree and you reached out for it, plucking a fresh cherry and plopping it into your mouth.

Almost moaning at the taste of how delicious ripe and fresh fruits were.

Continuing to read your book and enjoy the fruit, you soon lifted your gaze up to scan the area and found Struensee situated on a bench far away from yours, eyes fixed on you. You were slightly taken aback but covered it up nonetheless.

He too had a book in his hand and you squinted your eyes, to find the same book you were reading in your hand.

The fact that you both shared the same taste slightly bothered you, but you shifted your attention back to the ink stamped into the biege paper.

Your curiosity though, would get the best of you from time to time as you'd raise your gaze and steal glances from him. Only to find that he did the same, raising his eyes from the contents of his book to admire you. Johann had always found you beautiful, if not endearing.

He saw it that you cared about your people, that you wanted to do more than just parade around in beautiful dresses with maidens tending to all your needs. Born a girl was a curse, you saw it that way always and Johann was aware.

You plucked out a cherry and instead of plopping it into your mouth, you bit on it and traced it along your lower lip. Its juices leaving a red trail over your rosette lips. Johann watched you with a penetrative gaze, his adams apple bobbing up and down. Catching onto the little act done under lost thought.

The juice from the cherry dropped down your chin, leaving a messy trail and you giggled at the ticklish coldness of it. Not paying any mind to the man that was drinking you in like cherry wine.

Before you could delve deeper into what your book had to offer, Johann stood up to his feet and made his way towards you. You stared at him for a moment before finally scooting away.

An invitation for him to sit next to you.

“I did not know you were a fan of such books, Princess.” He commented and you let out a soft laugh, for the first time dropping your cold demeanor. The sugar from the cherries had definitely affected you.

You licked your lips, wetting the cherry tainted skin. “Love stories are a foreign concept for someone like me. It is best to read about them and forget.”

“You don't believe in love?”

You shook your head, teeth digging into your lower lip. He caught onto that and his fingers curved around the bench, tightening. There was so much self control he could possess after all. Being a man didn't help either.

“I'm nineteen. They will soon marry me off to someone I don't even know and I will face the same fate as my mother did.” Your tone was soft, different from your usual cold tone, sadness lingering underneath it. Johann understood you, but didn't feel you as he could never feel what a woman felt.

Johann’s eyes dropped to your hand and he almost held it. He stayed silence, watching as you reached for a cherry and bit into it, the juices squirting and making a mess over your lips. He couldn't accuse you of purposely enticing him but fuck, you were such a gorgeous girl.

He wanted nothing more than to claim you as his.

“Would you like some, Doctor Struensee?”

Instead of answering you, his hand moved on its own accord. Reaching for your small delicate wrist, fingers trapping it. He brought it to his lips and your breathing became uneven the moment your fingertips coming in contact with his lips. Johann’s gaze swallowed yours, while taking a the cherry into his mouth. You flinched when your fingers felt the inside of his mouth, teeth running over your skin.

Then he let you go.

A turmoil had been caused inside you.

He watched as your plump chest rose up and down, noticing the attraction swirling like wildfire in your darkened eyes. Johann knew he was playing with fire. You could tell anyone, get him executed for daring to hold your wrist.

But instead you stood up and left.

Running out of the garden, leaving behind your book and georgette scarf.

— ♡ —

You were in the garden again, late at night.

This time searching for your book by the bench, sneakily hoping no one would catch you. The bustling of bushes caught you off guard and when you stood up straight, it was Johann.

In his hand was your book and georgette scarf.

“Looking for this, Princess?”

You blinked your eyes. “Yes, I must've dropped it.”

You reached over to take a hold of your book but he pulled it back, leaving you confused. You blinked and reached for it once more, this time around more firmly but Johann only smiled, taking a step back from you.

Johann found you completely captivating. There was not an ounce of makeup on your face, skin bare. Your silky night gown exposed your shoulders and reached your ankles, covering most of you. No longer were your breasts plumped up and Johann wanted to unveil them. Expose them to his gaze, to his touch.

Your hair cascaded down in beautiful waves and he sharply took in a breath.

“Doctor, I am in no mood to be playing games. Hand me my book right this very instant.” You took a step forward but because it was dark, your foot rolled over a branch and you lost balance — finding yourself right in his arms.

Johann held you, staring down at you, lips shuddering from the proximity. You swallowed tightly and Johann noticed that, your gaze following his lips. An urge to crash your lips against his took over you and you'd almost leaned in but then you pulled back from him, fixing your hair.

You stared at him.

He returned it.

And then the curtain of patience cand crashing down. He closed the distance between the two of you, crashing his lips against yours. The kiss desperate and impatient. Your hands found his nape while he feverishly consumed you.

You didn't care for the customs of your family anymore. Ever since you'd left the garden, you thought about Johann. This time not to get rid of him but to meet him, to satiate this hunger of yours that he had awakened within you.

His hands flew to your silky night dress, aggressively slipping it off you meanwhile your fingers moved skilfully underneath his loose white shirt, trying to slip it off him. Johann held your face with both his hands, tongue battling with yours. He'd claimed you like no one had.

The fact that you two were indulging in such a daring act out in the open where anyone could see you, it only added more to the thrill of it all. Johann broke the kiss, pulling apart but before he could say something, you already pushed against him. Occupying his lips again.

You were inexperienced but well aware of what happened between a man and a woman.

Teeth colliding with teeth, tongue producing saliva and lips becoming wet, the kissing sounds were drowned out by the sound of the river. Mother nature coming in hand to help you both conceal the debauchery perfomed in its grasp.

Your fingers tugged at his roots, your body going flaccid against his. He could feel your breasts and he groaned in your mouth at the contact. His own shirt was discarded and he laid you down on the grass, holding your body gently.

You finally tore from him, in dire need of oxygen.

“This is wrong.” You whispered, staring into his eyes. “So wrong.”

Johann nodded and went back to kissing you, pulling onto your lower lip with this sharp teeth. You could feel his hands dropping down, fondling with your breasts. One hand fitting over the two — thumbs flicking the hardened peaks back and forth. Your back arched off the grass, feeling its pointy tips prickle your skin a little.

Johann leaned down, face hovering right over your breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth and to conceal your sounds, you forced your palms over your mouth while staring down at him. Feeling his wet tongue lap at your nipple, as he sucked on it and nipped around it.

“Doctor, please.” You pleaded, oblivious to what you were begging for.

He pulled back with a pop and stared at you, his darkened pupils reflecting your desire for him. “Call me Johann. I need you to say my name when I'm buried inside you, my beautiful Princess.”

You nodded your head. Heat pooling into your stomach at how hoarse voice, the embers delivered right to your moist cunt. Your hands reached for his face, wrapping around the ridges of it, fingers flicking his strands back to their old position.

“You're so pretty.” You complemented him, running your tongue over your swollen and red lips. Johann nearly lost all restraint, dropping his face between your thighs. Brawny hands slithering over your them as he buried his face deep into your cunt.

“Princess, remember when you said a cunt is a cunt no matter who is it attached to.” Johann recalled your words and you panted in anticipation. “I think it matters, Crown Princess as I have tried to fuck many cunts to satiate my hunger for yours.”

Your lips fell apart a little, a soft gasp of shock leaving you. Before you could register his words and how he was fucking other women to fulfill his desire for you, Johann had commited to bringing you otherworldly pleasure. His tongue running up and down your virgin pussy, catching a taste he knew he'd become obsessed with.

Your hips wormed on the grass, teeth sinking into the side of your hand to prevent you from screaming. Chills dressed you up under the dark, sinful night as Johann continued devouring your cunt. Flicking your swollen clit with his licentious tongue, then circling it around.

Your one hand snuck into his hair, pulling and gripping while the other bled from all the harsh biting.

“Johann. Johann, I feel weird. It all feels weird.” You cried out his name like a mantra, in soft little whimpers and barely audible whispers. If anyone were to find out about this, you'd both be done for. You'd be exiled and Johann would face a fate worse than yours.

Yet he was risking it.

Just to get a taste of you.

Butterflies flooded in your stomach when your foggy mind registered that.

Your abdomen was being pinched and nipped at from all the overwhelming pleasure but more was yet to come when Johann slid his fingers inside your virgin hole. One finger and you were gasping like he'd slid his cock inside you.

He looked up at you, the moonlight illuminating his beautiful features and the gloss over his lips told you it was your arousal that had branded him. “My doll, just let it go. Don't hold it in, okay?”

You nodded.

He began to finger you. Curving the digits in a search for that spot of yours and when he earned himself a cry straight from your throat, Johann realized he found his crown princess’ sensitive spot.

So he hit it, repeatedly, feeling the jelly spot with his fingertips. All while you released muffled whimpers of desire, abdomen tightening and reflexing. Your hands desperately cupped his face, a plea of silence in your blurry vision.

“Kiss me, please. Need you to kiss me, Johann.” How could he deny you when you were asking with such politeness, staring back at him with blown out pupils and a sweaty face. Flesh raw and flustered.

He crawled up and captured your lips in a tight lock, swallowing all your whimpers when you came all over his fingers. His moving fingers coaxing more sounds out of you, only to drink them like a thirsty man who'd found an oasis in the middle of a desert.

“Princess, are you with me?” He saw how out of breath you were, staring above at the sky which sparkled with stars.

“Y-Yes.” You responded, still in a daze from the raw pleasure that surged through you like waves of electric.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, arms circling around you. “Do you wish to go further, Doll? Or shall I st—”

“Doctor you talk a lot.” You said, gaze finally focusing on him. Your bare breasts heaved up and down, in attempts to inhale as much oxygen as you could. “Fuck me before I change my mind. Before I condemn you to the pits of hell for laying a hand on me. Before I forget how good you make me feel.”

Johann pressed his tongue against the inside of his mouth, forming a bulge on his cheek and chuckled. He pried your legs open, revealing your glossy pussy to him.

“Your wish id my command, Princess.” Johann’s comment made you let out a subtle smile. Johann maneuvered his cock into your hole, feeling it tight just when he slipped in his thick cockhead.

Your thighs reflxed, hole clenching.

“At ease, Princess. You have to let me in.” He whispered, arms wrapped around you. He held you, slightly lifying you up from the grass as he slid into you slowly. Inch by inch. Your tears spilled at the stretch and how much it burned — feeling like it'll incinerate you.

You were still gripping him tightly, not allowing him in and the man grunted at how tight you were. It was obvious you were a virgin and he'd taken that virtue from you, feeling guilt spread in his heart but something dark also followed along.

He'd taken you.

Claimed you.

“It hurts, Johann.” You whimpered out, tears profusely decorating your face like fallen pearls. The man nodded his head, acknowledging your pain. He placed kisses all over your face, distracting you and the moment he felt you loosen up, he pushed all the way in.

Your body jerked. Arms tossing themselves around him. Clinging to him tightly as you felt him stretch your walls past their limits. Is this what it felt like sleeping with a man? Johann’s cock was thick and he did not lack when it came to length. It was too much to bear but your wanton helped you deal with the pain.

“See, all the way in. Are you okay, my doll?”

“Yes. Just continue, please.” Johann obliged and pulled out, only to forcefully thrust back inside. Your arousal helped slick his cock as he slid in and out of you. His growl was low and slipped right into your ear.

Johann held you while he fucked you, thrusting in you like he was claiming you. He loved how tight you were and as the cloud revealed the moon, he witnessed the blood of your virtue in the form of a ring around his length.

“You're like the moon itself. So beautiful and so heavenly, Princess.” Johann grunted, his hips stuttering into yours. His hands roaming down to caress each curve, each beauty spot and each part of you. You were blessed by the gods in such immense quantity, it was difficult to ignore.

Johann saw a goddess laid before him, not a human. A powerful beauty who had him on his knees by just mere stolen glances. You felt it too, the way he caressed you. Held you and felt your skin against his own. Appreciation oozing out of his actions.

As he delivered solid strokes into your cunt, driving himself deeper and abusing your sensitive area. “My pretty fucking Princess. If you'd asked me once, just once that you wanted this. I would've followed you myself into your chambers, would've taken you right then and there.”

Your body twitched. Cunt throbbing and walls gripping him tightly at his words. The idea of him taking you by force was supposed to be immoral and repulsive but maybe that is what you liked, enjoyed. Found delight in. Johann slipping into your chambers and taking you while you slept.

The idea didn't vex you, as it should have.

“Johann—my god. Just, keep going. Please keep fucking me.”

He couldn't explain how much he loved it when you moaned out his name. Your voice like a siren song, calling him to his doom and Johann would willingly follow you to the depths of the roaring sea.

Just the way your fingernails dug into his back, searing down and leaving him bloodied. You were a fucking feline, in heat. Leaving him covered in marks like some wild animal.

If anyone were to find out that their dear Princess was this disgusting, they would banish you forever. Practicing such debauchery and sinfulness.

The same feeling from before greeted you, but this time more intense, more strong and all consuming. Your body surged forward into the grass as Johann fucked himself into you deeper, to the point you could feel the man in your womb. Oh how fucking good it felt. To have him caress such deep, intimate parts of yours.

“Johann, Johann— It's happening again.” You sobbed, tightly holding him. Arms and legs both wrapped around him. He buried his face in your neck and left kisses all over, while encouraging out your release. You descended to heaven for a moment, feeling your soul leave your body when you came over his cock.

Johann felt you tremor in his hand, holding you down as you sobbed and tightened around him. The man hissed at how tightly you were sucking him in and after a few snaps of his hips, he too came. His seed filling you to the brim, staining your virgin walls with its thickness.

Your sobs died out, turning into little sniffles as your sensitivity heightened. Johann laid on top of you, but his weight was supported by his elbows. He dragged his face out of your throat and looked at you. Seeing how fucked out you were.

Face sweaty and saturated, swollen lips parted and chest rising up and down. You slowly flit your across over him and hugged him tightly, hiding your face in his chest. There was no regret, no guilt. You would do it again in a heartbeat.

“Princess?”

“I'm fine, Johann.” You responded, kissing his shoulder, dragging your nails down his spine to leave more marks.

The man pulled out of you soon causing you to gasp. He grabbed your night dress from the grass and pulled it down your head, fixing your frame. His big hands pushed back the hair from your face and his lips pressed over your nose, affectionately.

You couldn't stand up but when you did, you grabbed your book. Johann attempted to wrap the georgette scarf around you but you pushed at it, shaking your head. Getting on your tippy toes, you brushed your lips over the shell of his ear.

“Keep it. Keep it so when you recall back to claiming the Crown Princess’ virgin cunt, you use this to fuck your hand.” Your voice was drowsy, a sultry whisper and then you pulled back, disappearing into the bushes.

Leaving Johann Struensee completely obsessed and in love. He couldn't wait to enter your chambers.

[camlovesjace]

HATE ME; 01 , THE PINK DREAD ! (Jacaerys Velaryon)

Summary (there) Warning: Enemies to lovers, you may hate or dislike some characters, not hate allowed, I AM TEAM BLACK my oc is not so...her ideas/opinions are not mine. Someone asked me to translate my wattpad fanfic Hate Me, (there is the link of the original fic, written by me on spanish, available until chapter 40th on wattpad) so here it is, i hope you enjoy it, i´ll try to post a few more chapters soon xoxo

The birth of Princess Deianira Targaryen was one of the worst days of Queen Alicent Hightower, the birth had lasted hours and had been one of the most complicated for the young redhead. And when the girl gave herself into her mother’s arms, the news reached her that Princess Rhaenyra had given birth to a prince… The two babies were born minutes apart, with Jacaerys Velaryon being the eldest of the two. A boy with brown hair and brown eyes, a bastard in the eyes of the green queen. Instead Alicent’s newborn daughter was an embodiment of Valyrian traits in person, her scarce hair was as pale as snow, and the first glow the queen saw in Deianira’s eyes was amethyst.

King Viserys took the news of the Parthians as a divine sign sent by the gods, and perhaps it was… The man Targaryen went to his firstborn’s quarters, to meet the future heir…leaving his wife and daughter alone for most of the day. When King Viserys finally approached his queen he found a sleeping Alicent, hugging the baby. But he dared not do anything to wake them up. The next day the man ordered the newborn children to share a wet nurse, in order to strengthen their bond and try to repair the growing rift that separated their family. He also offered a deal to the princes' mothers, a betrothal between the two children…so Deianira would be the queen consort and Jacaerys the king, when his time came to rule.

Princess Rhaenyra was more than delighted with the idea, but Alicent refused the offer, unable to even imagine her little daughter in the hands of a bastard. And so the years passed in the red keep… The Green Queen’s hatred for her stepdaughter and ex best friend became as ardent as the flames of a dragon, and whenever her youngest daughter was belittled by the presence of Prince Jacaerys, her tolerance for the bastards diminished. Rhaenyra’s dishonorable continuation of childbearing did not improve the situation. Alicent spent her afternoons talking to her children, warning them about her half-sister and her bastard children, especially to her eldest child, Aegon.

In this way, Deianira cultivated a resentment towards her nephew, Jacaerys. Who stole all the attention of her father, there were even several onomastics where the king forgot his youngest daughter… Without remembering, many times, that both children were born the same day. But the worst of all those days was the morning when Jace and Nira turned six onomastics old. King Viserys, as every year, had made a feast for the future king…but on that occasion, he had not even noticed to congratulate his daughter as well. Deianira watched as her father spent the afternoon playing with the boy and, sitting on the throne, put Jacaerys on his legs. Proclaiming that that would be his seat when he grew up, and that that day was cause for celebration because he was with them.

After that, the relationship between father and daughter only deteriorated, Nira was fed by anger towards her father for months and months, which led her to develop rebellious and violent attitudes. The last straw for the king was when, during an argument at dinner, Deianira threw a fork into Jacaerys' face. Stabbing the tips of the utensil in the forehead and leaving a small scar on his skin. Viserys tried to talk to his youngest daughter, but Princess Rhaenyra told him that she should be severely punished for her behavior towards the future king, which caused a dispute between both mothers…each trying to defend their respective children.

The fight did not stop until Ser Criston interfered, suggesting to the king that the princess could improve her behavior and calm her anger through disciplined training, practicing alongside her older brothers Aegon and Aemond. A proposal that the king thought carefully and ended up accepting. In this way the life of the white haired princess changed completely, she spent every morning training with her nephews and brothers, her afternoons doing recreational activities with her sister Helaena, and her nights reading or learning High Valyrian next to Aemond. Both children were very close, so much so that Alicent thought about brethroting them…but she never did it.

That specific morning the youngest girl was with her older brother, trying to speak in their father’s language with the dragon keepers, the men nodding or denying the questions the princess asked them. It was not until Aegon arrived with their two brown nephews that Deianira’s mood changed.

"Why do these two had to come?" The girl whispered to Aemond, who pinched her upon hearing her.

"Be kinder, they are our family" he told her, and she headed towards Aegon. Nira frowned and approached barely, unwilling to do so.

"Good morning, Deianira" the youngest child said, seeing her aunt walking by her feet, the princess nodded.

"Good morning too, Lucerys" she says and tries to smile, but her grimace gives her away. Then she looks at her eldest brother "Aegon." she says, in the form of a greeting, but ignores Jacaerys.

The brown haired boy rolls his eyes when he sees her attitude.

"Jacaerys is also here, Nira" murmurs Aemond.

"I know…" she says. And then she does not speak again. Jace is angry to see her behaving so childishly, but he does not pay attention.

The princess get into the pit next to the elders, and from the bottom of the huge cave comes the dragon Vermax…a green animal with golden almost orange horns. Apparently it was a male dragon, because every year it grew abruptly, as if it stretched and enlarged when no one was looking. Deianira and Aemond were the only ones without a dragon of their own, the prince’s egg had not hatched and the princess’s dragon had perished a few days after birth, as it was very weak and small…even it´s wings were thin, so thin that if it had survived it would never have been able to fly.

The dragon keepers incited the eldest Velaryon boy to approach their dragon, and he went towards the beast, somewhat fearful. The animal was unleashed and headed for its future rider.

"Call Vermax, Prince Jacaerys" one of the man's indicated , speaking High Valyrian.

"Attention!" Jace exclaimed, but he stepped back as the dragon approached him quickly, as if to attack him "Stop, Vermax!" Jace said, and Vermax obeyed, the man beside him smiled faintly.

"Well done" the elder murmured, then some caretakers brought a small lamb, Deianira opened his eyes as they approached him towards the round.

"Aren’t you going to…?" the girl’s words were interrupted by her older nephew, who ordered his beast to stop because the dragon had turned to the innocent animal. Vermax growled, but he did as it´s rider told him. "You must keep control over your dragon, my young prince" a young dragon keeper translated the words of an elder, because the prince´s were not yet so advanced in the language, except Aemond and Deianira, who understood each word "As Prince Aegon had it with Sunfyre. Once Vermax is attached to you, it will refuse to take orders from anyone else" he said. The dragon let out a desperate grunt, seeing the pale animal, Jace turned to the leader the excitement on his childish face evident from afar.

"May I?" he questioned, and received a nod from the brown, the brown haired prince turned around to face his uncles and aunt. Aegon had bored, looking everywhere but not there, Aemond looked with a touch of interest and Deianira had a grimace of disgust. That expression was almost characteristic of the princess. Or at least, something Jacaerys always noticed when he was around. And always, no matter what, the boy wanted to impress her. He still didn’t know why, but he wanted her to respect him.

Which always ended up going wrong.

"Dracarys, Vermax!" Jace shouted and the dragon spewed fire through it´s mouth, burning the lamb alive, Nira uttered an almost inaudible exclamation and clung to Aemond’s arm. Not out of fear, but out of indignation. Was it difficult to sacrifice the animal before giving it to a dragon? Could they not spare him the suffering of a painful death? Deianira hated cruelty to the innocent, especially to animals.

The lamb shrieked in pain as the embers clung to it´s body and the princess forced herself not to look away. Vermax went to the corpse of the animal that was once white and devoured it with a few bites, then the dragon keepers took the dragon back to it´s pit, leaving the princes alone. Nira tightened the grip she had on her older brother’s arm.

"Aemond, Deianira" Aegon called them "We have a surprise for you two" he said and Nira rolled her eyes, knowing that nothing good could come from her mother’s firstborn. But she said nothing because she noticed the glow of emotion in Aemond’s eyes.

"What is?" the white haired boy asked. Lucerys said it was something very special with a mocking tone, and the girl looked at the boy with annoyance. Thinking how far he’d fly if she kicked him at that precise moment, but at seeing him run away she preferred to suppress her desires.

"You two are the only ones who do not have a dragon" Aegon spoke.

"It is your fault, you chose the worst eggs for us" Deianira murmurs, feeling how her brother took her back and began to move with them at his side.

"True, it is your fault" Aemond agrees, remembering that their eggs had been chosen by Aegon before their births.

"Well, just…shut up" the eldest prince interrupts them, feeling attacked "I feel bad about my bad choices, okay? Well…we all felt a little bad, so we found something for you two" the younger white haired boy frown frowned, unable to believe him.

"You…find a dragon, seriously?" he asks, his tone full of uncertainty.

"You can’t even find your high Valyrian notes, how will you find a dragon?" Deianira asks, half mocking him and half skeptical.

"The gods provide, little sister" Aegon whispers "The gods provide"

Aemond and Deianira watched as Luke approached…next to a pig, with a harness made of brown strings and false feathers that pretended to mimic two wings.

"Admire the Pink Dread!" Aegon exclaims bursting with laughter, the laughter of the two bastards boys fills the ears of the princes. Aemond feels humiliated, his heart sink in his chest, while Deianira feels only anger. It’s like a hurricane is about to break loose in her stomach "It has room for two mounts, but be careful… the first fly can be difficult"

Nira clenches her fists, but does nothing yet. Aegon and Jacaerys begin to make sounds mimicking a pig and the princess feels an immense urge to throw herself on her brother and tear apart the hairs from his head one by one, and with the disgusting bastard of her sister…the words could not describe how much she wanted to hurt him. She wanted to see him bleed.

A few minutes later Aemond was still petrified beside Deianira, the children were gone and the girl was looking at her brother.

"Now they will know who I am" the princess declares, her cheeks red of anger and her jaw clenching, she sighs before coming out of the pit as soul being chased by the seven devils, Aemond sighs too as she leaves…it was as if a black cloud settled on her head.

"This will end up badly" he whispers, giving up, then he turns around and makes up his mind, starting to creep into the depths of the dragon pit.

Aegon held his nose while it bled in droves. Beside him sat Deianira, who had her shoulders down, awaiting for her punishment. Jacaerys covered his eye with his hand, feeling it begin to swell. Lucerys was the only one who was intact, Nira had not been able to jump on him as her hands and feet were busy beating the two elders.

The first to arrive the room was Rhaenyra, she looked at Jace stunned and worried.

"Who did this?!" she asked, desperately, kneeling to see her son’s face, his right eye was bruised. Deianira smiled at him.

"It is a gift of mine, dear sister" she says, looking at her half-sister, who hardened her gaze when she saw the delicate features of the girl intact.

The crown princess shouldered Nira tightly and at that moment Alicent entered the room, and at the sight of the scene ran to separate her daughter from the hands of Rhaenyra.

"Enough, stop!" the green queen shouted, and held her child in her arms. Then her gaze landed on Aegon "What happened, Aegon?"

The teenager rolled his eyes.

"It was your precious daughter, mother" he says, blood dripping from his nose, some parts were drying up on his skin, leaving crimson spots "Deianira attacked us for no reason!" The girl tried to get out of Alicent’s arms, wishing to throw herself on Aegon again.

"You’re a liar, Aegon, I swear I’ll…-!"she shouted, but a voice rose over hers.

"Enough!" the king exclaimed, drawing everyone’s attention towards him, an Aemond all covered with what seemed to be dust was by his side. The boy walked into Alicent’s arms, taking refuge on his mother warmth.

"These disputes must end, we are family!" the king yelled.

"Father" Rhaenyra spoke, and Alicent took her younger child under her grip as she intuited what the white haired woman next words would be 2Princess Deianira has come too far, attacked two princes this time, she is…uncontrollable2

Alicent sighed, smiling powerless and shaking her head softly.

"I know my daughter has had impulsive reactions before, but I don’t think this was for no reason" the redhead says looking at her lord husband.

"Aemond was locked in the dragon pit… " Ser Criston Cole whispered. "The princes were found fighting outside the place" he ended. Viserys looks at Aegon, then at Jacaerys, asking for explanations with his gaze.

"We were quietly coming out of the pit, father, and Deianira rushed over us" Aegon explained, faking a face to try to get his father pit "She had that mad expression she has everytime she lose her mind"

The silence seized the room, and Aemond broke it. His eyes burning with locked tears.

"They gave us a pig!" he shouted, his voice weak and shaky, the adults present in the room looked at the child and Deianira placed her gaze on the ground, feeling the sadness of her older brother "They said they had a dragon for us, they mocked and left us there."

Rhaenyra looked at her younger half-sister, and then at Jacaerys, disappointed to learn the things her son was doing in her absence.

"A blow, over a joke?" the crowned princess asked, but her voice sank into the depths of her throat. No one had words for what happened.

Viserys was the first to speak after a while.

"Apologize, and forget the situation" the King proposed, but Deianira shaked softly her head

"How many situations can we forget, father?" she murmured "Are you going to keep pretending that this family hasn’t been broken for years?"

Aemond took his younger sister’s hand, trying to shut her up.

"What did you said?" Viserys asks, approaching his daughter, who does not look down or flinch.

"What you heard" Deianira says, her amethyst eyes on her father, piercing deeply on his soul "One day there will come a situation that no member of this family will ever forget, and there’s nothing you will can do about it."

The man could not say anything at the words of his offspring, yet hardened his expression.

"Go to your quarters, Deianira, I have no desire to see your face today" he speaks, his cold and heartless tone of voice makes Alicent feel as her chest sinks into her bones.

"Viserys…she´s is your daughter" the queens whispers, but her voice breaks, the king looks at his wife and understands that his words were too harsh. But he wasn’t going to back down.

"Don’t worry about me, Mother" Nira tries to reassure her "I stopped seeing the king like my father long ago…"

After this, the young princess crosses the doorway and leaves, letting the tension in the room rise. Rhaenyra looks at Alicent and then at Aemond, but not a word comes out of her mouth. And so, the gap continues to open, further separating the house of the dragon.

[mikotv]

“You’re not going to die love..” “Yes I am!”

Summary: M!reader who’s sick and is the biggest dramatic ass bitch about it(Reflecting LMAO)and his husband, Simon Riley, takes care of him.

A/n: I’m sick when writing this, I love self reflecting mwuehehehe. Also bad ending and probably bad grammar Lmao

M/n woke up, a burning sensation in his throat. But it wasn’t one after an intimate night, more like someone’s in his throat with a pitch fork and is stabbing him with it. His eyes widened, as he started coughing, not really trying to be quiet as the amount of pain he was in. He slowly sat up, only realising his left nostril is blocked, his right nostril burning cold with every breath in.

His husband woke up from his coughing, it was a crunchy cough that sounded disgusting. Simon’s eyes fluttered open, quickly he sat up and insisted his beloved. “Are you okay? What happened?” His British accent echoing in m/n ears.

M/n forced him self to stop coughing, “My throat hurts..” he cuts himself off, realising how hoarse his voice is, it’s barely there. Then a moment of realisation came to his face; the sore throat, stuffy nose, coughing, soon he flopped back onto the bed

“Oh my god I’m sick.” He complained like he had the plague. He turned away from his husband, while Simon just looked at m/n with soft eyes. He brought his hand to m/n soft (h/c) hair, gently playing with it. “I’ll get you something for your throat and some water, yeah?” Simon gently kissed the shell of his beloveds ear. M/n didn’t say anything, just nodded.

As Simon got up and left their shared room, m/n looked around the room, seeing the morning light shining through the blinds. He grabbed his phone, the digital clock read ‘7:32am’. He groaned as it dawned on him he’ll have to call in sick, no way he was going to talk to his boss with whatever is left of his voice.

A few minutes later, Simon soon returned with strepsils and m/n water bottle. He placed them gently on the bedside table, soon getting back into his side of the bed. He wrapped his arms around his husband, who was sniffling the snot back into his nose.

“Stop hugging me I’m diseased..” M/n frowned, his voice all raspy and nearly gone. He sat up and popped the strepsil in his mouth, sucking on it as he crossed his arms, leaning his head on Simon’s head. “Stop acting like a person from medieval times who’s dying of the plague.” Simon mumbled into the side of m/n shoulder, his hand went under m/n(simons) hoodie, stopping at his stomach to slowly caress it.

“I think I might die.” The (h/c) man claimed. Simon took his head away from his husband’s shoulder, looking at him like he married a mad man. “You’re not going to die, love..” Simon tilted his head, a small smile of humour on his face, “yes I am!” M/n pouted. M/n hated being sick, maybe it was because he could barely breathe through a stuffy nose, or maybe it was because his throat was always sore and he could do minimum about it.

Simon kissed the pout away from his lovers face. “If you get me sick I’m not forgiving you.” He bantered. “You’re the wan that kissed me!” M/n weakly punched Simon’s shoulder. He passed his phone to him with his free hand. “I need you to call my boss.”

Simon took his husbands phone, finding in the contact of m/n’s boss, calling the number.

After that was dealt with, Simon turned his attention back to m/n. “And you are off for the day.” Simon confirmed, placing the phone back in the bedside table. “Thanks love.”

Then m/n shifted his position, wrapping his arms around his husband’s middle, nuzzling his head into Simon’s shoulder. Then a sniffle came from m/n. “You’re gonna get me sick.” Simon mumbled.

“Shove it up your arse.”

[dianawinchester03]

Juvenile Delinquent

Series Masterlist

Summary: After standing up for herself and Sammy in a catfight with her fellow cheer captain, Y/N finds herself in a bit of a pickle.

(Y/N and Sam are 17 years old and Dean is 21 years old)

BASED ON:

The Old Testament Series.

Genesis Primis: A Supernatural Rewrite (Dean Winchester x Reader) by @dianawinchester03

🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔

Third Person POV

Sioux Falls High, South Dakota

•September 2000

Senior year was probably the most dreadful year in high-school history. John and F/N decided to let Sam and Y/N finish their senior year in Sioux Falls High, leaving Dean in charge for most of the year. They would pop in and out after hunts but would hit the road after getting a trail on another.

It was the start of the school year, Sam was eating lunch in the cafeteria with Y/N while the members of the cheer squad Y/N with in were giggling and pointing at their table.

"You can go sit with your friends you know, y/n" Sam sighed, stabbing his unappetizing meatloaf with his fork. His head bowed.

"I am, now shut up and eat your fake meat" Y/N rolled her eyes, tightening her ponytail.

Sam's eyes glanced down at her orange and black uniform, a playful smirk on his face. "I still can't believe you joined the cheer squad" He snorted.

"Hey, don't judge me dipshit, it's fun. It's why I've been telling your giant ass to join the football team" Y/N huffed in mock offense, tossing a croton at her best-friend.

"Oh hell no crackhead, you couldn't pay me enough to play football" Sam laughed, dodging the flying food. 

"Why? You have the shoulders for it" Y/N teased, raising her brow. "And I have the brains for Stanford, not for football" Sam shot back, sticking out his tongue.

Y/N threw her head back laughing at this, "Alright college boy" She snickered, "So, Stanford. You made up your mind on it?" She asked with a small smile, her eyes flickered over to her cheerleader "friends" who were staring at them intently.

Y/N noticed Stella Luther, captain of the squad, eyes were trained directly at her with a smirk.

Sam noticed Y/N tense and look past him, a slight frown on his face. He looked over his shoulder, seeing the bitchy look on Stella's face. Stella was the worst. He let out an annoyed sigh, turning back to Y/N. "Yeah, my application is all sent in, just waiting to hear back from 'em".

"I'm sure you'll get in, Sammy. And I'm also sure you gave them the best essay your big brain could muster up" She said encouragingly. "Ha, ha" Sam retorted sarcastically. "Seriously, you think I stand a chance?"

He honestly didn't know how much of a chance he had at getting into Stanford. He just wanted to get away from hunting. Away from the life his dad so desperately wanted for him.

John and F/N were on his ass constantly for ditching hunts. For not wanting to be in this life.

He was tired.

Y/N on the other hand didn't mind it, having gotten used to the life but that doesn't mean she didn't have a hard time with her old man.

"Hey babe" A voice behind Y/N quipped up, making her jump. "Xander" She breathed out relieved when her boyfriend, Alexander, laid a kiss on her cheek, sitting next to her before giving Sam a bro-fist bump.

"Sup man" Sam returned the fistbump with a nod.

He was fine with Xander, having been around him the most. He was a nice guy, smart and sweet, not a douche like the other football players.

Sam watched as Xander slung his arm over Y/N's shoulders. A small smile spreading in his face, happy to see his bestfriend had gotten someone who seemed to truly care for her.

Part of Sam wished Y/N would stay with Alexander and decide to settle down in the apple pie life but he knew she didn't want that ... .with Alex at least.

"So, what're you two ladies gossiping about over here," Xander asked, wrapping his arm tighter around a smiling Y/N. Sam chuckled, rolling his eyes. "We're just talking about the fact that Y/N is in the cheer squad"

Y/N tossed another crouton at Sam's head, "Stop shitting on my fun"

"Cheer's a lot of fun," Alexander said, "And my girl looks hot in the uniform"

Sam almost threw up in his mouth. He'd rather not think about Y/N in the tight, short skirt.

"You look smokin' in that thing" Xander winked. "Oh shut it" Y/N blushed, pushing at Xander's shoulder. Sam suddenly became very interested in his cold meatloaf. "So, how was practice?" Y/N asked her boyfriend, sipping her chocolate milk.

"Oh," Xander let out an exhausted huff. "The coach laid down the law, apparently some guys have been slacking off during scrimmage's and he's not pleased about it. We're apparently going to be doing drills and conditioning all week. The coach won't let me up until I'm puking my guts out"

"Oh, poor baby. It must be so hard to jog around in the hot sun" Y/N said with mock pity in her voice, patting her poor boyfriend's cheek.

"Hey, it's not just jogging, babe. It's tackling and throwing balls at each other in this hot ass weather" Xander complained.

"I know sweetie, I'm just pulling your leg. Why don't you come over today after practice? My dad and Sam's dad won't be back from hu-...work until tomorrow" Y/N suggested, almost saying the word 'hunt'. Internally cursing at herself for the slip up.

Xander's face lit up at the invitation. "Really?" He asked hopefully, pulling Y/N closer to him. Sam had to keep from rolling his eyes, not having to listen to a full night of their nauseating lovey dovey crap.

"Sam, you think Dean's gonna yap to our dads?" Y/N turned to her best friend. "You have nothing to worry about" Sam assured her, waving his hand in a dismissive motion, "Dean isn't that much of a tattle tale".

"I don't know...he didn't sit on the porch with a baseball bat on our first date" Alexander said warily, grimacing at the memory. "That's cause he's an overly protective pain in my ass" Y/N muttered, shoving another crouton into her mouth angrily.

Sam chuckled at her annoyance with his brother. He had a fair mind that Dean and Y/N had crushes on each other but would never in a million years act on it.

"I won't be at my Uncle Bobby's though. I'll be here..." Y/N told Xander, writing down the address to their house in Lake Preston, not too far from Sioux Falls.

A presence behind Y/N becomes known when the sound of a throat clearing is welcomed into their ears as she handed Xander the paper.

They turned around to see none other than Stella.

The captain of the cheer squad stood behind them all, one hand on her hip cocked to the side, the other occupied by a carton of chocolate milk.

Stella Luther was definitely a looker, her long, golden hair always seemed perfectly curled and her emerald eyes sparkled with arrogance. She seemed to have something against Y/N, always glaring at the younger girl.

"Hi, Alex" Stella said to Y/N's boyfriend in an overly-exaggerated high pitched tone. But the footballer looked uninterested.

"Yeah, hey" Xander returned her greeting with a dismissive tone.

It was no secret that Stella had been trying to woo him away from Y/N with subtle flirting and a show of a bit of skin. He just chose to ignore her advances.

Sam had to chuckle at the annoyed look on Y/N's face as she narrowed her eyes at Stella's overly done up form.

Stella didn't look happy that he didn't swoon at her greeting. Her eyes left the teen and settled on Y/N.

"I don't understand why you two are sitting at the losers table" Stella scoffed, nodding her head towards Sam with a nasty glare.

Stella turned her gaze from Y/n to Sam, a sly smirk plastered on her face. Sam mentally groaned knowing what was coming when he say Y/N's jaw clench and her nostrils flare.

She turned around in the circular table, tossing her legs over to face the bitch. Ready to maul her for insulting Sam. "Excuse me?" Y/N bit out, her face heated.

Oh, boy. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. This was getting interesting and all eyes were now locked in them, waiting to see what was going to happen.

"What, just because you captain our team you think you can walk over everyone? Jesus, sister. You've been watching too much chick flicks" Y/N defended, standing up to get in Stella's face.

Stella put her arms on her hips and gave Y/N a condescending look, towering over her with her 5"7 stature.

"I'm the captain because I'm the best. And I'm not being cocky when I say that, if you were any good, you'd be the captain" Stella smirked.

Stella and Y/N were nose to nose, both girls were fuming with anger. Xander and Sam were tensed up. Xander was ready to hold his girlfriend back if she tried to get a swing in.

"Oh sweetie, if being captain meant I had to be like your perky ass. I would gladly join the chess club!" Y/N practically shouted as Stella gripped her chocolate milk in her hand.

Her eyes flickered over to Y/N's black leather jacket she had sat next to her on the bench.

"You may have made the squad. and god himself alone knows how" Stella chuckled darkly. "But at least I'm not some goth reject with daddy issues who's trying to play cheerleader" Stella snapped back, tossing her head as she sneered at Y/N.

Yup, Y/N was definitely gonna go for a swing. Xander was quick to wrap his arm around Y/N's middle. Blocking her path to Stella.

Stella cackled manically at this, an idea flashing in her head, she looked at the milk in her hand and back to Y/N's leather jacket. A smirk rising on her face.

"Don't. You. Dare" Y/N gritted out, trying to tug out of Xander's grip. Not liking the look on Stella's face at all. But the warning came too late, Stella had already poured the liquid on the leather. A cruel smirk on her face. "Oops" Stella said faux innocently, sticking out her bottom lip in a mock pout.

"You DEAD BITCH!!" Y/N immediately broke out of Xander's grip, leaving him surprised because he was much bigger and stronger. The adrenaline pumping through her veins at the sight of her jacket getting drenched with the chocolate milk.

She pounced on Stella in seconds, putting all of her mere strength into the way her fist connected with her jaw, repeatedly. Her knuckles bruised with each punch before gripping Stella by her hair and slamming it into the floor.

Xander's eyes widened in shock when Y/N slipped out of his grip. He was frozen like the other students watching the beat down about to happen.

Sam's eyes were just as shocked as Xander's, he watched as Y/N attacked the older girl. He should be stopping this but Stella totally deserved it.

"Y/N, stop!" Xander shouted, watching his once sweet girlfriend turn into a raging monster. He attempted to tear her from Stella's grip but her fingers her tangled in the bleach blonde locks of her head.

Stella's once perfectly done up face was now covered in blood and swelling. It was a wonder she was conscious after all the blows that had been dealt to it. The captain's nose was definitely broken, blood gushing from both nostrils, her caked makeup smeared from all the blood and tears running down her face.

Xander and Sam were desperately trying to get Y/N off of the barely conscious Stella. Xander was trying his hardest to pull at Y/N while Sam attempted to pry her hands from the girl's blood soaked hair. It was like she was in a trance, fueled by anger and adrenaline.

Not only did she destroy her perfectly good and expensive jacket, but she was insulting Sammy. Causing the rage in her to snap. "Goddamn it!" Sam gasped out as he tugged at her wrists in vain, "Y/N, stop! You're gonna get expelled, maybe even arrested for this!"

Xander finally decided to get physical this time with all his strength he could muster up. Throwing his arms around her waist with the help of Sam, they pulled her away from the bloody mess that was once the captain.

She was still struggling against their holds, practically foaming at the mouth at this point. They finally gripped the angered teen girl, both boys holding her tightly with all their might as Y/N kicked and screamed.

"LET ME GO! I'M NOT FINISHED WITH HER ASS!" Y/N shrieked, kicking and screaming against the two boys' hold on her.

The cafeteria was in a state of shock, watching as Y/N nearly went feral on one of the most popular girls in school.

"Y/N!" Sam all but yelled at her, "Snap out of it, you're not gonna get yourself arrested for this! She's not worth it!" He hated seeing her like this. Usually, she is so controlled and gentle. But right now all he is seeing is a beast, ready to kill.

Y/N felt like she was losing her mind. The adrenaline was fueling her rampage while Xander and Sam, who she would normally listen to were the devil's advocates.

"She ruined my. FUCKING. JACKET! And she deserves worse for all the shit she's said to you!" Y/N snapped at her best friend, thrashing in their hold on her.

"It's just a jacket!" Sam yelled back at her, just trying to get through to her but she wasn't listening, "She's not worth getting expelled over!"

"I'm not going to have you go to jail because you decided to assault another student, Y/N!" Sam said firmly, pushing down the anger in his chest.

He loved his best friend with all his heart but there was no way in hell was he going to let her end up in some jail cell because of a stupid high school girl.

Xander had never seen Y/N like this before, she scared him. Her eyes were blazing, teeth gnashed. She was like an animal.

"Baby, please. I'm begging. Relax!!" Xander begged, gripping onto his feral girlfriend. Hearing her boyfriend's pleading tone seemed to slow her down a bit. His worried tone caused a pang of guilt to shoot through her.

She was breathing heavily through her nose like she had just run a hundred miles. Her body was still shaking in anger.

Looking around at the aftermath she had done, all the stares and the blood on her hands. Y/N finally seemed to come back down to reality, realization dawning on her.

"What's going on here?!" The principal's voice boomed in the cafeteria, weeding his way through the dozens of students who were surrounding them, taking pictures and recording with the cameras and camcorders.

The principal marched through the crowd, a horrified look on his face at the sight before him. The captain of the cheer squad laid on the ground, bloodied and bruised while the school's sweetheart seemed to be held back by two football players.

"Well I never-" the Principal sputtered out, staring at the scene before him.

"Principal Adams. S-she started it. She jumped me because I accidentally knocked chocolate milk on her jacket" Stella lied through her bloodied teeth, pointing an accusing finger at Y/N.

Causing the teenage hunter to rile up once again.

Y/N saw red once again, straining against Sam and Xander's restraint.

"Are you serious!?" Y/N shouted at her, "That's an outright lie!" Y/N roared, struggling against the boys' grip, "She's been picking on Sam all year and she ruined my jacket!"

"I should have done more to you, you lying ska-!"

Xander quickly slapped his hand over his girlfriends mouth, stopping her from saying the words she was about to spit at the older girl.

The Principal stared at Y/N with shock written on his face. The student who was nothing but kind and respectful to both teachers and other students. He never would have expected her to do something like this.

He turned his attention to Stella, the girl also had a good record. Never getting in trouble with any one before.

"Is this true?" Principal Adams asked her, glancing between the two girls.

"Yes, principal" Stella lied through her teeth, making herself look as pitiful as she can.

Y/N's muffled screams roared through Xander's hand covering her mouth, attempted to rip away from their grips but Sam knew better and tugged the girl back.

"All due respect sir, she's lying!" Sam practically shouted at the principal. The principal held up a hand signaling for him to be quiet.

His eyes flicked between the four students standing before him, a frustrated look on his face. The whole scene was like some messed up high school drama.

Xander and Sam were still restraining Y/N, keeping her arms held with a vice like grip. Sam's grip tightening on her arms to keep her from struggling.

The Principal pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "I don't know which one of you is actually telling the truth..." Stella looked smug, thinking she was about to get off scot-free once again while Y/N looked incensed and Sam and Xander held a look of disbelief on their faces.

"My office, all of you. NOW!" Principal Adam's barked at them. "You two" Adam's pointed to the two boys from Xander's team who were helping Stella up. "Take her to the nurses, but after she's patched up and taken care of. Bring her to me" He ordered the footballers before marching to his office.

"Yes, sir!" The two football players said in unison, both of them grabbing the captain, throwing Stella's arms over their shoulders and practically carrying the wounded girl towards the nurses office. One of them threw Y/N a dirty look as they started escorting the blonde to the nurses' office.

"Eat shit, Carter!!" Y/N growled at the boy shooting her a dirty look. Carter, the tall and muscular boy whipped his head around and gave Y/N a scowl. He would love to give the feisty girl a taste of her own medicine.

"I hope they throw your ass behind bars where you belong" he retorted back at her. Carter sneered at her. "I've never got what Alex sees in you anyways. The chick's crazy" he snapped at her before continuing his escort of the wounded girl.

Xander shot him a warning glare, "Why don't you do what she said, dickhead!" Xander roared as him and Sam escorted Y/N to the principal's office.

Y/N attempted to lunge at Carter as they walked past her, spitting profanities and threats to the boys as Xander and Sam dragged her and held her by the arms to the office, if they let her go. She would've gotten her ass handed to her by the team.

"YOU WEREN'T SAYING THAT WHEN YOU WERE TRYING TO GET INTO MY PANTS YOU WALKING TROPHY CABINET-!" Y/N screeched at him.

"God, please shut up!" Xander pleaded. This was definitely going to be a long day.

-

They finally made it into the principal's office. After he had shut his door. The principal gestured for the four teens to sit down as he took his place at his desk, looking very tired. Sam and Xander sat at the ends while Stella sat next to y/n, holding an ice pack over her nose, dramatically sobbing.

Though, her sobbing might be real with the damage y/n had done to her face.

The principal looked between the four students before he leaned back in his chair, "I'm going to listen to each one of your accounts. One at a time." he said, staring directly at Y/N. "You," He said, gesturing at Y/N "First."

"I was eating lunch with Sam and Xander when out of nowhere this ska-" Y/N bit back her words, realizing she was not only slut shaming another girl. Another annoying girl.

But she was also contradicting herself. She took a deep breath. "Stella" She gritted her teeth. "Came up to our table and started throwing insults at us unprovoked. Then when I stood up for us" She gestured between Sam and herself.

"She dumped chocolate milk on my very expensive and sentimental leather jacket" Y/N finished her explanation of her side of the story.

The principal nodded thoughtfully as he listened to Y/N's story. He took note that it had been Stella who had provoked them both.

He looked at Stella, "Now I want you to tell me your side of the story, Ms. Luther." he said to the girl, staring intently at her.

Stella slowly reached up to remove the ice pack from her face. Her nose was red and swollen. Her eyes were watering as she looked at the principal, "Y/N has had it out for me for a long time." Stella began, her eyes flickering to the girl next to her.

Y/N brows furrowed at this in disbelief because it was quite the opposite and the other way around, she crossed her arms over her chest as she listed to the made up story.

Stella continued, her crocodile tears falling from her face, "She's always been jealous of me because of my popularity. And for some reason she hates that Xander is my boyfriend." She said gesturing at the football player who sat stiffly in his chair.

"No, he's my boyfriend you desperate homewrecking b-!" Y/N roared once again but Xander, again, slapped the palm of his hand over her mouth.

The Principal held up a hand at Y/N once again and she stopped speaking when he gave her a warning glare as he turned his attention back to Stella.

"Let her finish Ms. L/N" He scolded her before his eyes returned to Stella, "You may continue, Ms. Luther." He said, gesturing for her to finish. Stella gave the seething Y/N a smug look before she continued her story. "Like I said" she said, returning her attention to the Principal.

"Y/N has been jealous of me since the beginning of the year. She's just been looking for a way to snap on me, and today she just so happened to get her wish." A look of confusion flashed across the principal's face, before he looked warily Y/N while she seethed. The look in her eyes made him uneasy.

Like she was a caged animal ready to jump.

The principal turned his attention to Xander, "Mr. Thompson, I'd like to hear your side of the story." He said, turning his gaze towards the football player. Xander shifted in his seat, the look of disbelief still on his face. He was in total awe that Stella thought the principal would believe her bullshit story.

"It's exactly like Y/N said, sir. She was picking on us at the table, just trying to be some bully." The principal looked at Xander for a few moments, before he turned to look at Sam.

"Mr. Winchester, I want to hear your side of the story" He said, staring at the boy. Sam's eyes darted up from his desk, swallowing nervously. He was a straight A student so being called up to the principal's office was definitely out of the norm.

Sam shifted in his seat and shot Stella a glare before he began his account of the story. "Well," He started, the words catching in his throat. "They're telling the truth. She was picking on us."

"Stella has been picking on me for most of the school year because I keep turning her friends down when they ask me out." He said, looking at her. "She didn't like that I was rejecting so she's been trying to humiliate me."

He put up a finger before adding, "And, she's always had it out for y/n. Constantly to get into Alex's pants and steal him away from her"

A look of shock flashed across the principal's face once again. He never would have expected that, especially from a girl like Stella. "I've called all your parents" Principal Adam's informed them.

This made Sam and Y/N's eyes bulge out of their sockets. "WHAT?!" They both exclaimed in unison, terrified at the wrath they gonna face with their fathers already.

They're supposed to keep a low profile but Y/N's tussle with the cheerleading captain is gonna make steam come barreling out of their ears.

Both Sam and Y/N tried to calm their rapid breathing, imagining the ass whooping they would receive when they got home.

The principal let out a sigh and leaned back into his chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose while he rubbed his temples, he was getting a headache. "Winchester, Thompson. You two may leave" Adam's pointed to the door.

Xander and Sam shared a look, both confused why they were being dismissed. They turned to look at the principal then to Y/N.

"Um... what?" Xander asked. Both boys were looking at the principal dumbfounded. The principal pinched the bridge of his nose, "Just leave the room. This discussion is between Ms. L/N and Ms. Thompson" he told them, gesturing towards the door.

"Oh, okay." Xander said, pushing himself from his chair alongside Sam. Sam's eyes met Y/N's, a look of concern on the boys face. She gave him a nod of reassurance but Y/N looked frightened, sitting alone with the principal and Stella.

Xander and Sam nodded to the principal before they left the office, shutting the door behind them. Leaving Y/N alone with the principal and Stella.

Stella looked at Y/N from her chair, a smug look on her face. Y/N felt like spitting in her face.

The door opened again a couple of seconds later and in walked Stella's mother who let out a dramatic gasp upon seeing her daughters bruised face. Her father walking in with a stern yet uninterested expression.

"Oh my God!" Stella's mother exclaimed dramatically rushing over to her daughter, crouching down beside her chair and examining the damage done to her face. Y/N rolled her eyes at how much Stella's mom sounded like her.

Stella's father just stood there and observed the scene quietly. A look of irritation on his face, and his eyes kept flickering over to Y/N.

The principal sighed before looking at the two adults, "Please, take a seat" he gestured to the other chairs in front of his desk.

Both parents sit down next to their daughter, Stella's mother still fussing over her daughters face while her father watched Y/N intently.

Both cheerleaders leaned back into their seats, Stella resting the ice pack on her nose again while Y/N sat with her arms crossed. Not nearly as bruised as Stella who got one or two hits in, but it was nothing compared to what Y/N got on her.

Principal Adam's cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Mrs. Luther's screeching voice.

"This student assaulted our daughter because she's jealous!" Mrs. Luther exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Y/N. "Your daughter is an attention seeking whore! Maybe you should tell her to don't fuck with other peoples things or family!" Y/N shot up from her seat.

Mr. and Mrs. Luther's jaws dropped upon hearing the language used. They couldn't believe the vile words coming from the mouth of a 17 year old girl.

Meanwhile Stella looked like she was going to explode with anger. "All due respect, Mr. Adams. You wanna expel me sir? You ahead! Because I am done dealing with the bullshit Stella puts me through on a daily! She acts like she's in some kind of chick flick! It's beyond ridiculous!"

"How dare you!" Stella exclaimed, shooting to her feet but was shoved back down in the chair by her father's huge hand.

The principal leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not understand how a simple squabble between two students became this messed up. He rubbed his temples and sighed, "Please, let me speak" he said, looking up at Y/N.

"I should have you arrested!" Stella's mom piped up. "Oh my God" The principal mumbled to himself, trying to fight back the headache that was starting to build up in the back of his head.

"Mrs. Luther please," The principal said with a stern voice "If you don't let me speak, you can leave." he said, shooting her a warning look.

Stella's mother looked affronted that she was reprimanded by the school's principal, but fell quiet.

"No one is getting arrested, ma'am" he said, his eyes flickering up to Stella's mother, "And Ms. L/N, please sit down" Principal Adam's said, gesturing to her seat.

Y/N huffed angrily and sat back down in her seat.

"This is the third time this month I've had this pair in my office!" He told the two parents, "This is turning into a big headache and I'm tired of it"

Mrs. Luther was busy coddling her daughter and Stella's father was busy staring a hole into Y/N's skull.The principal was growing frustrated with the situation. The parents and the two girls didn't make it any easier.

The tension filling the office was thick, and there was an uncomfortable atmosphere and silence until Principal Adam's started to speak again. "I just don't understand why you two don't get along. You're both very popular, and both have a lot of friends."

Stella's face twisted into a smirk. As if the answer was obvious. But before she could even speak up with an explanation, Y/N's own voice cut through.

"Well," Y/N chuckled darkly, "Maybe it's because she's a raging brat." Stella opened her mouth once again to respond but her father shot her a glare which made her close her mouth.

Principal Adam's shook his head, "Well, whatever the reason is for your constant fighting, I'd like it to end... for good." he said sternly.

He looked at both girls, "I've already taken the liberty of informing your parents about this little... 'incident'."

"I got onto your father but he said he won't be home from his business trip until tomorrow so he's sent your guardian Dean Winchester to pick you up" Adams informed Y/N.

"He's not my guardian" Y/N grumbled, more worried about the fact that she's gonna have to face her father tomorrow.

The principal shot Y/N a disapproving look upon hearing her grumble. He did not like the defiant tone in the girl's voice.

“Nevertheless, he is on his way.” The older man said. “And I have a feeling he is not exactly happy.”

Y/N chuckled darkly again, "Oh, you'd be surprised" She quipped, knowing that once she explained the situation to Dean, he'd probably be twice as pissed and proud of whooping the girl's ass.

The principal raised his eyebrows at her comment but chose to ignore it.

Suddenly, the office door slammed open, revealing Dean Winchester standing in the doorway.

He was wearing his usual attire, jeans, work boots, plaid shirt and his brown leather jacket paired a grumpy look on his face. His face darkened when he saw the two girls.

Stella's parents scoffed upon seeing the elder Winchester. Stella's father muttered something under his breath. Something along the lines of "That's her guardian?" In a judgmental tone, making Y/N shoot daggers at him, her jaw clenching because Dean was just her friend.

The principal stood from his chair and smiled politely at Dean as he said, "Mr. Winchester. Thank you for coming so quickly." Dean grunted in response. He didn't return the school's principal's polite smile. The look on his face was anything but friendly.

He looked at the two girls in the chairs. His heart sunk when he saw that Y/N had a bruise forming on her cheek, and her lip was bleeding slightly. Seeing that she had gotten into a fight set off some internal rage inside the elder Winchester.

Dean grunted in response. He didn't return the school's principal's polite smile. The look on his face was anything but friendly.

He looked at the two girls in the chairs. His heart sunk when he saw that Y/N had a bruise forming on her cheek, and her lip was bleeding slightly. Seeing that she had gotten into a fight set off some internal rage inside the elder Winchester.

But when his gaze adverted to Stella, his eyes widened with the damage she had done. Not surprised by the damage but more at the fact that Y/N had gotten that angry to do that to Stella.

That girl must've pushed the wrong buttons this time. Dean thought to himself because Y/N would always rant to him about her crappy encounters with the cheer captain.

The principal cleared his throat, gesturing for Dean to have a seat, "Please take a seat, Mr. Winchester," he said.

Dean ripped his gaze away from the two girls and sat down in the chair next to Y/N, slouching down in his seat and crossing his legs and arms as he waited for the principal to speak.

The principal sat back down into his chair and sighed. It was always a hassle dealing with teenagers.

He looked at Dean, "I'll start with you, Mr. Winchester. I have good news and bad news." he said, his eyes flickering to Y/N for a few seconds.

Dean raised an eyebrow, "Good news?" He said, his tone of voice sarcastic. The principal didn't miss the sarcastic tone, but he chose to ignore it. Dealing with teenagers was never easy. Especially ones who knew no manners.

"Yes, good news. Ms. Luther here was the instigator" The principal said, gesturing towards Stella who looked offended that he was pinning the blame on her.

"Excuse me!" Stella's mother exclaimed, standing from her chair. "Stella was just the victim! That girl assaulted her for no reason."

"Yeah because I'd so wanna attack Baywatch and get expelled for NO REASON!" Y/N quipped sarcastically. Stella's parents scowled at Y/N for her response, meanwhile Dean was biting his tongue to keep from chuckling.

That's my girl. He thought to himself.

Mr. Adams shot Y/N a disapproving look, not at all amused with her smart mouth, and then looked at Stella's parents.

"If you'd please sit down" he said gesturing to them. They both sat down, their faces now red with anger at Y/N.

The older man cleared his throat. "As I was saying. Ms. Luther was the instigator..."

"...And Ms. L/N was the one who responded with violence." He finished his sentence.

Dean didn't move a muscle or say anything while he listened to the principal's words.

Stella huffed angrily and sat back in her chair, but her mother was not at all happy with the way the principal pinned the blame on her daughter.

"And her parents would like to press charges" Adams added. A look of annoyance flashed across Dean's face upon hearing that.

He sat up straighter in his chair, his voice gruff as he spoke, "Press charges for what? The girl's got a busted lip and a bruised cheek. That she damn well deserved?" Dean scoffed.

Stella's parents were outraged hearing this, hearing Dean speak like that in front of a school official. "Exactly" Mrs. Luther exclaimed. "Our daughter was attacked! She deserves compensation!"

"Sure, why don't you send me a bill for her nose job repair! Wouldn't want to botch a perfectly good rhinoplasty" Y/N growled, the anger making her tongue grow more loose.

Dean clenched his jaw, his grip on the arms of the chair turned tighter, trying his best to prevent himself from laughing out loud.

It was getting harder and harder for Dean to hold back his smirk at the girl's snarky responses. The sarcasm flowing from her mouth was the icing on the cake.

Meanwhile Stella's parents looked like they were about to explode, their faces turning red with anger. The principal took a deep breath to calm himself down. Dealing with teenagers was truly a hassle. Especially ones with mouthy attitudes.

"Please, lets keep this civil" Principal Adams said as he looked at Y/N, trying to get her to stop with the smartass comments. Principal Adams raised his hand to stop Y/N before she said anything else that could make the parents of the bruised girl react in an even more hostile manner.

"There will be no need for compensation" he assured them. "The school will take responsibility for this situation." Mr. and Mrs. Luther looked relieved hearing that, their anger subsided from the words of the schools principal.

Dean looked surprised, he wasn't expecting that at all. He expected the principal to take Stella's parents' side, since this school was known to do anything to protect their reputation.

"Now for the bad news." Principal Adams continued. The two parents gave him a quizzical look. "Since this is the third time this month that Ms. L/N and Ms. Luther have gotten into a fight, both of them will be suspended for a week."

Stella's parents looked satisfied upon hearing the part about Y/N being suspended. But they were clearly against the idea of their daughter being suspended.

"A WEEK?!" They exclaimed simultaneously. "Can't you at least reduce the time?" Mrs. Luther asked with pleading eyes. "Unfortunately, no." Principal Adams said. "The school has a zero-tolerance policy regarding school fights. If either one of them gets into another fight, I will be forced to expel both of them."

The principal's tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Stella's parents' faces fell upon hearing the principal. They looked like they were going to say something else, but Dean's voice cut through the room instead.

"Alright, good," Dean said in a somewhat sarcastic tone. The way he said it told the principal that he was eager to get his friend and get the hell out of that place.

Principal Adams nodded at the elder Winchester, not liking the sarcastic tone he had used. "Is that all?" Dean asked. "Actually, Mr. Winchester, there's one more thing" The older man said while reaching for something on his desk.

Dean raised his eyebrows but remained quiet and waited for him to continue. The principal picked up a slip of paper from his desk and placed it on the desk, pushing it over to Dean.

"I'm sure you're familiar with the mandatory sign out sheet in case of suspension" Principal Adams said."Oh lord" Y/N groaned, sinking into her seat.

"Calm down, princess" Dean muttered to her before turning the principal, taking the sheet from his hands. The corner of Dean's mouth tugged up into a smirk as he reached out to grab the form.

"Yeah, I'm very familiar" he joked. Dean grabbed a pen from the principal's desk and scrawled his signature on the line at the bottom of the paper. The signature looked sloppy but the principal didn't say anything about it.

Dean handed the pen back to the principal and handed him the signed paper, "All set" he said as he shifted back into his chair, getting ready to leave. "Let's go, sweetheart" He grabbed Y/N gently by her wrist before escorting her out of the office.

Stella's parents looked relieved to see the two leave the office, while Stella still seemed upset and frustrated.

Principal Adams watched as the pair left the room. He had been principal at this school for over 20 years but the antics of the elder Winchester and Y/N L/N were the one thing that made his head hurt.

-

Sam was slouched on a chair outside the principals office, twiddling his thumbs nervously as he waited on Dean and Y/N to leave the office.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door to the office opened and out walked Dean, his hand gently wrapped around Y/N's wrist.

Sam immediately shot up from his seat and rushed towards them. "Are you suspended?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Yeah" Y/N responded with an irritated tone. Sam looked worried and looked over at Dean, who was still holding Y/N's wrist. "For how long?" He asked.

"A damn week" Y/N grumbled.

Dean glanced down at her, his eyes flickering from her face to the bruise on her cheek. "Lucky it wasn't longer" he said, his tone serious.

"Don't you give me that tone, Winchester" She snapped, "You know fellas know damn well the bitch was begging for it" Sam's eyes widen with shock while Dean simply chuckled. Y/N's ability to mouth off never failed to amuse him.

"Can we just go home? I think I just lost my boyfriend and daddy is gonna kill me" She slumped her shoulders, tears welling up in her eyes as the situation settled in.

Xander had seen her in a bad state and her father is gonna have her in an even worse state when he comes back from his hunt.

Sam and Dean shared a worried look as they watched Y/N's shoulders slump and her eyes start to tear up.

"Yeah, sure." Dean assured her before guiding her out to the parking lot, his hand still on her wrist. Dean made his way towards his Impala, carrying Y/N's backpack after taking it from Sam as Y/N strolled over to her Harley.

"Absolutely not," Dean called as he watched Y/N make her way towards her motorbike. "I'm not letting you get on that thing after you got into a fight" he said firmly.

"What the fuck? Who are you? My father?" She exclaimed. "And why not?! I'm not gonna run myself off the road. I care about Quinn more than I care about me. I'm not putting her through that" She rambled defensively, snatching her helmet up.

Dean raised an eyebrow at her reaction, his eyes flickering between her and the motorbike.

"I don't care, princess" he said firmly, placing a hand on her arm, trying to hold her in place. "I'm not letting you get on that thing. You're coming with me, in Baby." he pointed his thumb to his precious Impala.

"I'm not leaving Quinn here!" She snapped, standing her ground and Dean knew better than to argue. "So tuck your balls in between your legs and get in Baby" She growled before throwing one leg over her bike.

Making sure to cover between her legs that her sorta exposed due to her cheer skirt, snapping her helmet on.

Sam stood there dumbfounded, his eyes darting between Y/N's and Dean's, silently watching the scene unfold before him.

Dean, on the other hand, was not happy about her reaction. He clenched his jaw, his face hardening as he stared at Y/N, who had her leg thrown over her Harley.

Despite the stern look on his face, he knew that she was a stubborn girl and there was no way he was going to win this argument.

Dean rolled his eyes in defeat before grabbing her little brother, who was towering over him at this point, nudging him towards Baby and Y/N sped off. Heading back home, the Impala following shortly behind.

Sam followed his brother and Y/N, his eyes wide as he watched her speed away.

He knew better than to question the interaction between his brother and Y/N. The two had a unique dynamic and he knew that they cared deeply for one another, even if they didn't want to admit it.

🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔

Lake Preston, South Dakota

•The Next Day

The sound of arguing could be heard from the kitchen, Y/N's voice raised in anger as the volume of the argument increased. The Winchester boys could hear every word that was said from where they sat in the living room.

"I can't believe you embarrassed me like that!" Mr. Y/L/N yelled angrily, his voice echoing through the house.

Y/N stood in front of him, her hands on her hips and her chin held high. "Embarrassed you? I was defending myself!"

"We're supposed to keep a low profile Y/N! You could get our asses tossed in jail!"

"The bitch was looking for it! She's been on my ass AND Sammy's since we started going there!" Y/N screamed at her father, defending her actions.

"I even joined the fucking squad to attempt to be friends with her but it's like she took that as a 'Hi, My name is Y/N and I want you to fuck with me until I snap' SIGN ON MY BACK!"

Mr. L/N's face looked angry now. "I don't care! You should have just ignored her! We are under a lot of heat right now and you decide to get in a fight!"

"Don't you think I know that?! I've been taking it and taking it for well over a damn year and then she dumps chocolate milk on the leather jacket you bought me! Can you blame?!"

F/N's expression softened slightly upon hearing Y/N's words. He knew that his daughter cared a lot about the leather jacket he got her, it was her favorite.

"I get that you're pissed about the jacket but that didn't give you the right to punch her in the face, Y/N" he said sternly.

"She was picking on Sammy too!"

F/N's eyebrows furrowed upon hearing her words. He was aware that Sam was bullied a lot by Stella's friends.

"That still doesn't give you the right to throw the first punch, Y/N" he said firmly. "Oh, but it gives her the right to be a fucking bitch?! I had enough, daddy. I'm sorry I snapped but she got in my last nerve yesterday"

F/N's jaw tightened as he listened to his daughter's words. He understood her frustration but also knew that her actions had consequences.

"I get it, baby. But fighting isn't the answer. You should've just walked away and let me handle it." he said, his tone firm but gentle.

Y/N went to answer but a knocking at the door caused them all to shoot up. John and F/N instantly cocked their guns at the door as Sam and Dean scrambled over to Y/N. All five hunters alert.

The sound of the knocking at the door caused the tension in the room to rise. John and F/N instantly pulled out their guns, ready to defend themselves and the others in the house. Sam and Dean moved closer to Y/N in a protective manner, their eyes fixed on the front door.

F/N's grip on his gun was tight, his knuckles turning white. "Stay behind me" he said as he started slowly moving towards the door.

He pushed the curtains aside to see cops at the door, his eyes widening. "Jesus Christ" he muttered under his breath before turning to the others. "It's the damn cops." he whispered.

Sam and Dean both tensed even more upon hearing F/N's words, their eyes darting between the cops and F/N. Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief.

"The hell are they doing here?" she hissed.

"What do you want?" F/N hissed as he looked through the peephole. "Police. Open up, Mr. L/N. We have an arrest warrant for your daughter, Ms. Y/N L/N" One cop said.

F/N's eyes widened in shock upon hearing the cop's words. His grip on his gun tightened, his knuckles turning white.

Sam and Dean stood close behind him, their faces etched with worry. Y/N, on the other hand, stood there in disbelief, her eyes widened in shock and confusion.

"What the hell?!" F/N exclaimed, "On what damn charges do you have an arrest warrant for?"

The cop outside the door responded, "Assault and battery."

F/N's eyes narrowed, anger and disbelief flashing in his eyes. "So you're telling me that you're here to arrest my own daughter because she hit someone?" he asked, his voice laced with anger.

"That's correct, sir," the cop responded, his voice unapologetic.

F/N's jaw tightened as he listened to the cop's response. He looked over at Y/N, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, frustration, and worry.

"Just open the door" Y/N sighed, "And put your guns away" She whispered. F/N didn't want to open the door and let the cops in but he knew his daughter was right. He nodded in agreement before putting his gun away, tucking it into his belt along with John.

Dean and Sam both gave Y/N a worried look, but followed her father's lead and put away their own weapons.

F/N took a deep breath before unlocking the door and slowly opening it, revealing the cops on the other side.

The cops stepped into the house, their eyes quickly darting around the room, taking note of the others in the room.

The main cop, a stocky man with a stern look on his face, spoke up, "Ms. Y/N L/N, you are under arrest for assault and battery of Stella Luther."

"Tell me something I don't know" She spat as they grappled her wrist roughly, turning her around and pressing the teenage girl against the wall as if she's a hardback criminal.

The sight of the cops grabbing Y/N roughly and slamming her against the wall sent a jolt of anger through F/N, John, Dean, and Sam. F/N's fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening in anger.

"Hey!" Dean exclaimed, "There's no need to be so rough with her. She's just a damn teenage girl." Dean yelled protectively as they read Y/N her rights.

"Shut it, boy" The main cop barked back at Dean before continuing on with reading Y/N her rights.

F/N's eyes narrowed, his body tensing in anger as the cop spoke to Dean that way. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down at the sight of his baby being handled like a criminal. His heart aching in his chest.

"Is roughing her up necessary?" John asked icily. "She's a kid for crying out loud!"

The main cop looked over at John and F/N, his expression cold. "She was rough with another kid, so we're being rough with her" he said, his tone dismissive.

The other cops, who had Y/N pinned against the wall, tightened their grip on her arms. Y/N winced in pain, her face pressed hard against the wall.

"I'll have you know, I like it rough" Y/N sassed back. "So all you're doing is further turning me on, officer!" She grunted through gritted teeth. Yes she was aware of the fact that her father was behind her, but she couldn't care less at this point.

Dean and Sam both stifled a laugh, trying to hold back their grins. John shook his head in disbelief, surprisingly trying to hide a small smile at Y/N's sass. It kinda reminded him of her mother when she first introduced him to Mary.

F/N, on the other hand, shot Y/N a glare before turning back to the cops. "Can you at least try not to slam her against the wall like a damn criminal?" he asked, his voice laced with anger as they shoved her out of the house and pulled her roughly towards the squad car.

Dean gritted his teeth once more at the way they're manhandling her. Having to force himself not to attack a cop but that'll mean serious jail time for him.

The main cop just gave F/N a dismissive look before pushing Y/N into the squad car. "She's a criminal, sir. She assaulted another girl" he said as if that completely excused his rough treatment of Y/N.

Y/N sat in the back of the car, her wrists cuffed together, seething with anger and frustration. "A girl who was bullying her! Did you get your badges in a fucking cereal box?!?" Dean exclaimed furiously.

The main cop turned to Dean, his eyes narrowing. "Watch it, boy" he said gruffly. "Assault is assault, no matter who you assault"

John stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "We understand that, officer, but Y/N isn't a danger. She's just a teenage girl who snapped at a bully."

The main cop just rolled his eyes. "Oh, so that gives her the right to go around attacking people?" he snapped back.

F/N stepped up, his eyes fixed on the main cop. "She was defending herself and her brother" he said firmly, trying to keep his cool as he nudged Sam to stand infront of him.

The main cop looked at F/N with a look of annoyance. "That doesn't change the fact that she assaulted another kid" he said, his tone dismissive.

John's jaw clenched as he stepped up beside F/N, his eyes narrowing on the main cop. "And that doesn't change the fact that she acted in self-defense."

"Hey Mulder, Scully. Why don't you hurry it up and ship me off to my cell? I wanna learn how to not drop my soap!" Y/N poked her head out of the squad car window.

The main cop, annoyed by Y/N's cheeky remark, slammed the door shut. "Shut up back there." he grumbled before getting into the front seat of the squad car.

The other officer, a younger, more soft-spoken cop, just shook his head at Y/N's remark. "You really can't catch a break, kid." he muttered before getting into the passenger seat.

"You stand up to a bitch and you get canned. Welcome to America, officer" Y/N snorted, shaking her head as she but back tears. As much as she would bust a joke about the situation, she was fucking scared for what awaits her inside.

The younger cop, the one who didn't have a stick shoved so far up his ass, looked at Y/N in the mirror. He could see the tears starting to well up in her eyes, his heart softening for the girl.

Sam and Dean had their hands pressed against the window, instructing Y/N on what to do once she's held

"Demand a lawyer!" Sam instructed

"We'll get you out of there in no time Princess!" Dean promised, pressing a kiss to his hand before pressing his hand to the window.

Y/N allowed her tears to flow as Dean did this, pressing her forehead to his palm against the window as a way of accepting the kiss, a little chuckle escaping her throat.

Dean gave her a reassuring smile through the window, his heart breaking at the sight of her tears. He knew how scared she must be feeling, but he needed her to hold strong.

F/N and John stood behind him, their expressions filled with worry and anger at the situation.

The younger cop, watching the interaction, couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the teenage girl. He could see the worry and fear in her eyes, despite her attempts to disguise it with snarky remarks, Y/N's eyes flooded with tears, realizing that beneath the tough exterior, she was scared.

The main cop, on the other hand, just let out a scoff at the display of affection from the boys. "You damn kids, thinking you can mouth off to the cops," he muttered gruffly. "You brought this on yourself" he said gruffly as he started the car and drove off kid.

Y/N turned to glare at the main cop, her eyes still filled with tears. "I didn't bring anything on myself. I defended my brother and myself from a bully. But I guess you're too damn blind to see that" she muttered.

The younger cop looked over at the main cop, his expression disapproving. He knew Y/N had a point, but he kept his mouth shut to avoid the main cop's wrath.

🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔

Authors Note: I'm not sure if you guys remember me mentioning that Y/N not arrested for assault, but here it is!

Hope everyone enjoyed and I'm thinking of making a Part 2 to this. Let me know if you'll be down for that.

Update: Made it! Go enjoy, Juvenile Detention Center

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

Thanks for reading,

Xoxo

[crownofgildedlilies]

feelin' like an absolute fool about it -> cool about it [1]

in which: a son of jupiter can't remember the life he lost to time and circumstance. or the daughter of mercury he lost, too.

pairing: jason grace x daughter of mercury!roman!reader

warnings: angst, angst, and angst. oh and cursing.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this is a four part fic and im so obsessed with this idea. Jason Grace the man that you are. oh and this follows a nonlinear plot so be warned. lmk if you want to be added to a taglist or wtv!

[one] two three four

"If I have to sit through one more meeting with you making kiss me eyes at the praetor, I'm going to run myself through with my own lance."

"Good morning to you, too, Dakota." You grunted, half amused, half still pissy from the horror show that had been your previous night. "I slept like shit, thanks for asking."

"You're welcome," He didn't miss a beat, pouring more kool-aid than was probably healthy into his cup to drink with breakfast. "Now, man up."

"Real inspiring."

Dakota leveled you with a flat look, and you fought the urge to roll your own eyes. But you knew he would twist the action into your admitting defeat in your impromptu staring contest.

And you were nothing if not a sore loser.

"Admit you want to date the praetor." Dakota demanded, trying to push the conversation along.

On instinct, your gaze darted throughout the dining pavilion, looking for a certain head of blond hair that had yet to make an appearance that morning. And it was then that you knew Dakota meant business, because he didn’t call you out for looking away first.

"Reyna's pretty. Not my type, though." You deflected, stabbing a fork into your breakfast with what was probably more force than necessary. Dakota's eyes widened at the action, briefly, before narrowing at you in suspicion.

"Moving past that comment," He waved his hand in front of him, as if to physically move the conversation along. "Does your current attitude have anything to do with last night's freak thunderstorm?"

Maybe, you would have said, if your mouth didn't suddenly taste so bitter. Still, you winced, and you knew that was enough of an answer for him.

"Oh, come on!" Dakota groaned, pausing only to sip greedily on his kool-aid. You looked on in near amusement, cheek propped up on your fist, waiting for his dramatics to pass. "I finally get my speech all prepared to get you to confess your unending love to Praetor Grace, and you two get in an argument the night before?"

"Pity," You replied dryly, hoping the way you exaggeratedly poked out your bottom lip and knitted your brows together masked the ache in your chest.

"Centurion," Dakota whined, and you wondered how you had gotten so lucky to be promoted to lead the Fifth Cohort alongside him. "What happened?"

Your eyes flashed, shooting him a glare that made him snap his mouth shut.

"Oh-kay." He whistled, sipping his kool-aid some more. Seriously, you needed to figure out how to trick the poor guy into drinking water. "My point still stands. One argument does not change the fact that you guys are in love with each other."

You scoffed, shoveling pancakes in your mouth to avoid answering, head ducked.

Dakota slammed his open palms down on the top of the table so forcefully, almost every head in the pavilion snapped towards him.

"So you admit it!" He accused, grinning wickedly and showing off the red-stained mustache his drink of choice left. You grimaced, swallowing your breakfast to avoid choking. "You do love him!"

"Keep your voice down or I will shove Octavian's entire teddy bear collection down your—"

"Okay!" Dakota interrupted, grinning proudly, as if he hadn't just been threatened. "No need for violence. I was right."

"So is a broken clock twice a day. You're not special." You rolled your eyes, settling stiffly back into your seat. Risking another glance around the mess hall, you still found no sight of the world's most irritating, kind-hearted, moron of a praetor.

Also known as Jason Grace, your best friend.

And as Dakota had just so eloquently uncovered, the guy you've been in love with for years without ever uttering a word about it to him.

"Put me out of my misery, please, and just go talk to the guy, will you?" He begged, like he truly was the one suffering. You glared at him again, but you knew it wasn't fair.

Dakota hadn't been there last night, when you had tried telling Jason how you felt. But the boy was as emotionally oblivious as he was pretty, which was saying a lot.

"Wait," Dakota wiped at his mouth, but the kool-aid stains remained behind. "Did you already—?"

"Centurions," Harper from the Second Cohort appeared at your side, slightly out of breath and eyes wide. You had only ever really spoken to her during Senate meetings, but you were friendly enough.

So you were more than a little confused when she looked at you and took a step back, like she was afraid.

"Everything alright, Harper?" You asked, turning slightly in your seat, mind already running through a million different scenarios of horrible things that could have happened and dragged such a reaction out of Harper.

You had seen the girl take on four sons of Mars before. She wasn't exactly afraid of much.

"He's gone," The words tumbled past her lips before she winced, taking a second step away from you. Face twisted in confusion, you tried to make sense of the vague explanation. "Jason, I mean. He's just—"

Gone.

You were out of your seat before she could finish talking, breakfast long forgotten. The few bites you had managed to swallow felt like lead in the pit of your stomach, weighing you down and making you feel like you were barely moving, even as you raced so fast through camp that even the Lares barely had time to get out of your way.

There was no way Harper was right. Jason couldn't just be—be gone. He was everything a Roman aspired to be; strong, resilient, dedicated.

And maybe you had gotten into an argument, but Broken Clock Dakota was right for the second time that day. One argument didn't mean you stopped loving him.

You have never been so thankful that your father was the god of travelers as your feet pounded on the dirt roads. Sprinting towards the bunk houses, you utilized every ounce of Mercury-blessed speed. Jason had to be there. Or maybe he had snuck off to New Rome to buy you apology flowers, like he had the one time he missed your birthday—you had forgive him easily, as he had been off on a quest he nearly died during.

Heart in your throat, you skidded to a halt outside the small, private bedrooms given to the praetors. You had always teased Jason that his looked like a prison cell, considering his only decorations were books on war strategies used throughout centuries.

But then he had taped up that one gods-awful photo of you and him, both squinting against the sun shining in your faces, and it hadn't seemed so desolate.

"Jason!" You shouted with relief, voice choked up, because the door to his room was open. He never kept his door open, unless you were inside, because he claimed it stopped the other campers from making assumptions about what the two of you were getting up to in his bedroom, alone.

And then you would ask him to explain what he meant by that, trying to hide your grin for as long as you could while he stammered over his words with a blush.

"Jase, they're saying—" You pushed open the door to his room further, voice almost shuddering, and stopped cold when you saw the room's only occupant.

Because it wasn't your blond haired love leaning over the small desk in the corner of the room.

"He didn't show up to our praetor meeting this morning." Reyna's voice was flat, giving you only the facts. You were glad, because if she had spoken with pity, you were certain you would have thrown up.

Jason would be nice about it, but you didn't want to vomit on his carpet.

"That's not like him," You stated dumbly, fingertips vibrating with anxious nerves. Reyna shook her head, and it was then that you realized she had been sifting through the stacks of papers on his desk.

It felt like an intrusion of his privacy, even if it was a necessary precaution. There might have been clues to his whereabouts in those papers. Instead, you were certain they were only his to-do lists, scribbled in his neat handwriting you so adored.

And when she spoke next, you wish you could have plugged your ears and ignored her.

"Centurion, Jason Grace is missing."

Six months, one week, four days, nine hours.

And thirty-six minutes.

Jason had been gone for six months, one week, four days, nine hours, and thirty-six minutes.

In total, you had slept probably a total of nineteen consecutive hours. Octavian had tried calling for your removal from role of Centurion five times. Reyna had offered you the open position of Praetor twice, behind closed doors.

"It's not available," You had snapped. Fear and exhaustion had turned you bitter. "Jason's coming back."

Six months, one week, four days, nine hours, and thirty-seven minutes.

"You know," Dakota's voice was slightly slurred, already gone on the kool-aid on such a bright summer afternoon. He had found you on the steps of the forum, searching through dozens of letters from retired legionnaires all claiming to not have heard any word about Jason but would keep scouting, and suggested you join him for a walk. "I bet he's out there, fighting for his life to get back here to you."

You shot a glare at Dakota, but kept your mouth shut. Lately, he was the only one of your old friends that could stomach being around you. No one else wanted to subject themselves to your attitude. You were glad to have a friend, even if you didn't act like it.

But you wished Dakota wouldn't talk about Jason fighting for his life.

"Brenda said I could take another eagle out searching today," Your voice had a rasp to it. Rarely used, but never rested. For the first three weeks following Jason's disappearance, you spent each night crying in your bunk, murmuring desperate pleas that your golden boy be returned to you.

And maybe he had never truly been your Jason, but it had felt pretty close.

Finally, Reyna had slipped a key into your palm, disguised as a handshake. The silver key, the one that unlocked Jason's empty praetor room, currently sat on a chain around your neck.

You slept there, now.

No one mentioned your nightly disappearance. You figured everyone was just thankful they didn't have to hear your crying anymore.

"Are you sure you should be flying?" Dakota looked you over with unease, the Little Tiber coming into view on the horizon. You were certain you looked a mess, but what did it matter? You only cared about what Jason thought of you, and Jason never cared about what you wore.

Still, the dark bags of exhaustion under your eyes probably were cause for concern.

"Says you," You countered dismissively, waving a hand towards the flask of kool-aid attached to his belt.

"That's not what I mean," He huffed, defensive. "When's the last time you slept—"

The shouting from the Little Tiber interrupted your conversation. You squinted in the direction of the sound, both surprised and startled to find two massive fists of water raised in the air, a gorgon in each.

At the bank was Hazel Levesque, submerged up to his knees was Frank Zhang, and... controlling the water-fists was a boy you had never seen before.

Without warning Dakota, you took off in a sprint towards the edge of the Little Tiber. You reached the bank just as Frank shot two incredibly well placed arrows at each of the gorgons, turning them to dust and swallowing them downstream.

"Centurion!" Hazel gasped, spotting you approach. Dakota was slowly closing in, muttering curses about children of Mercury and their swiftness. "We found him by the front gates. He was carrying, well, a goddess, so we figured we should let him in."

By the time Hazel finished rambling, both the new boy and Frank had made it ashore. Frank, with his probatio tablet swinging around his neck avoided meeting your eye.

Most people did, lately.

But the newcomer met your stare head on, confidently, if not a little confused. Pursing your lips, something about him set off alarms in your mind.

"What's your name?" You asked, still frowning. You hated being so angry all the time. You missed smiling. You missed your reason for smiling, too, but you had other things to worry about, somehow.

Like the son of Neptune who showed up on your front door.

The boy shifted on his feet, a bronze sword clenched in his tired hands. He looked far worse than you had realized at first, and his voice was exhausted when he answered you.

"Percy Jackson."

"Jason Grace!"

"Careful," He grinned, pointing his sword lazily at you. Your laughter echoed throughout the room, setting the world around the two you singing. "People might think your form is getting sloppy."

"Then they'll think you're a shitty coach," You teased, twirling your own sword as you danced throughout the room, always light on your feet. Jason chuckled, and if you could have bottled up the sound to keep forever, you would have in a heartbeat.

Your favorite moments were when it was just you and Jason, in the training center alone. With curfew fast approaching, everyone else was taking advantage of the two short, sweet free hours before lights out.

"Water break," Jason ordered, flipping his sword gracefully back into the golden coin he always kept in his pocket. You obliged him, slipping wordlessly over to your water bottle on the edge of the mat. "I was serious, earlier. You're dropping your elbows."

"And you're more stiff than a flagpole," You countered, raising a pointed brow at him. Jason gave you a look that screamed 'I don't think so', which was practically an invitation for you to mess with him. "Seriously, Jase, you gotta loosen up."

"I'm loose." He argued, and you let out another loud laugh, the kind that had your head tipping back with the force of your joy. Crossing the room to stand before him, you lifted your chin so that you had a chance at meeting his eye.

I'm loose, he claimed. The thought made you snort, again, as you took in his rigid posture, how even just standing, his arms were crossed over his broad chest.

"Jase," You crooned innocently, settling your left hand on his shoulder, fingers smoothing over the muscle. His reaction was instant, to your excitement. Flush coating his cheeks, his eyes tracking the movement of your hand against him.

Just as you had hoped.

"Baby," You taunted, and he actually choked, burning a bright red as you stepped closer to him, smirk on your lips. "If you're going to talk shit about my elbows, you better get ready to fight back."

Grinning wickedly, you held up the magical golden coin you had lifted from Jason's pocket while he was distracted.

"Give me that," He huffed, eyes rolling and catching your wrist before you could get away. Your laughter fell from you in echoing shrieks, trying to escape Jason as he tried to snatch the coin back.

You stuck out your arm in the opposite direction, trying to hold out as long as you could against him. How rare it was you ever were able to outsmart the great Jason Grace.

He simply pulled you closer, his longer arms stretching out over your body to try and get his coin back. Knees knocking together, your laughters mixed in the air.

By the time his fingers finally wrapped around the golden coin, you could barely breathe. Smiles spread wide over both your faces, you grinned up at him, cheeks albeit a bit flushed.

His arm was wrapped around your middle, holding you flush against his front. And even as he stuffed his coin back into his pocket, he kept his arm wrapped around you tightly.

You weren't going to complain, either, your own hands settling on the tops of his shoulders, toying with the collar of his purple camp shirt.

Gods, you were so in love with him, you felt it in your bones. How was it fair that the powers that be put him in your life, just out of arms reach? And how could Venus despise you so much that she would give you Jason Grace, let him hold you and smile at you, and not have him fall in love with you, too?

He was blinding, golden sunlight, and you just needed to be caught in his rays, however briefly.

"Why do you train so much?" You weren't exactly sure where the question came from, but you were certain it was an important one as you studied the emotions swirling in his sky blue eyes. Confusion, mostly, but also a hint of something so similar to admiration it made your skin feel flushed.

"We're soldiers." He reasoned, ever the level-headed Roman. And you loved him for it, really, but you loved him more than the Roman traits.

"Do we have to be, all the time?" You hated how desperate your voice sounded, and you hated Jason for making you ask.

"What else is there for us?" His counter argument was like he hit the panic button in your mind. And maybe if you had more time to think about how to best react, you would have slowed down and talked him through a life beyond the military prowess he had been practically conditioned to think was the only life for him.

But you didn't have time, and you could barely think, so all you did was pull away from his hold.

"Forget it." You mumbled, not entirely sure if you intended for him to hear. It wasn't his fault, you distantly reasoned, he didn't know any better. Raised by wolves then sent to Camp Jupiter? He had no chance at seeing any sort of life beyond battlefield glory.

But you weren't the daughter of reason. Your father was the god of thieves, and your emotions stole the moment from your fingertips.

"Hold on," Jason urged, taking a step towards you as you backed away, mumbling some excuse about needing more water. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Never, Jase." You nodded solemnly, your frown never once leaving your lips as you twisted back around to face him. "And maybe that's the problem."

I want you to break regulation and kiss the daylights out of me, you wanted to scream.

"I don't understand." He shook his head, open palms splayed up towards the sky, like he was pleading with you or the gods to explain to him.

You laughed once more, but this time, it echoed coldly in the empty training room. Gone was the sunshine smiled you wore, as if it had fallen behind the horizon as the real sun set over your head.

Bitterness twisted your heart, firing unfamiliar cruelty through your gaze, pinned on Jason. He almost flinched at the look on your face.

I don't understand, he had claimed. He didn't understand just how much you ached for him, praetor or not. Roman or mortal, you wanted him.

But he was a soldier, first. And maybe he was a soldier, only.

"Maybe that's the problem."

He called your name, but you were already out the door, letting the metal slam shut behind you.

You weren't enough of a fool to pretend to not see the lightning strike the roof of the training center, ruining the perfectly clear skies from only moments before. The only proof of Jason's frustration he would let the world see, you knew.

The only proof that maybe he ached the same way as you.

That night, you didn't sleep. Your poor bunkmates, listening to you twist and turn and try and get comfortable when it felt like knives were piercing your insides. Acid burned your tongue, cursing the appendage for ever trying to broach the subject about being more than soldiers to the other with Jason.

The next morning, you walked into breakfast, determined to avoid talking to Jason for at least a few hours.

Oh, what a mistake that wish was.