#and i have better and worse days in terms of how much i can do physically before getting winded/dizzy and i haven’t told her it’s been all

[coffeegnomee]

I wanted to write about how far Zam has come with his character for like a week now and now he’s acknowledged it himself so I finally grabbed all the quotes.

Let’s go down memory lane shall we? 

DAY 1 

24:00 “There’s a ghost that haunts my dreams [...] I see him in my sleep. He tells me to kill people. But I don’t want to kill anyone”

“I have to hold it in.. [...] I wish I had like horror sound effects to play and images of every lifesteal member dead and I could flash them across the screen” does that. 

ZAM: “*lights armadillo on fire* “give it a slow, painful death” PENTAR: “for someone against the whole idea of killing, you seem to have a gruesome way around killing things.” ZAM “I’m still me” [armadillo dies.] “I can only resist the urges so much [evil giggle]”

10:07:00 after Pentar kills him “It’s not about being above anyone by not killing people, I would just prefer not to. Because last season I feel like I was.. Something else. And I don’t want to do that again. I don’t want to be that again. You know?”

“Because it’s not supposed to be some morality, ‘I’m better than you’ kind of thing, you know? I don’t want to be on some like high horse. It’s more of like, I just don’t wanna let the demon out, you know, that type of thing”

Reflecting on the first two days, I wrote this about Zam: This season looks like an internal battle of his personal desire to complete a minecraft challenge™ (no kills) vs his desire to do lore and change his character multiple times. And I just don’t think the challenge wins long term. A challenge isn’t what makes him love lifesteal, it’s the lore. 

Day 4 7/9/24

1:01:05 “‘zam has no enemies’ no, it’s not that I have no enemies, it’s just that if I kill people, I’m going to become like a monster. Like way worse than anyone else on the server. You know? And I like don’t want that reputation if I’m like just peacefully building. [...] ‘oh bro’s scared to hurt others then?’ yup! [...] ‘bad things will happen…. (meep)’ yea last time I hurt someone, last time i tried to hurt someone, bad things happened. And i just… can’t do that again, you know?”

1:21:40 killing bogged in trial chamber. “It feels nice cutting things down, I don’t think I’ve been doing enough of this. [...] I’m going to kill all of you, I’m going to kill every single one of you. [...] is it weird to say that I’ve missed this? Even though ‘this’ is just cutting down a bunch of skeletons, just jumping up and down and left clicking [...]  [evil giggles (and not to anything in chat)] [...] my sword might say “im so sorry’ but I’m not sorry, I’m not even a little sorry right now” 

2:19:05 “”also Zam is emo’ (chips) “no i’m not! I’m so happy! I’m the happiest i've been in a long time. That’s why I have my nipple out. That’s not true why did i say that” 

4:04:50 Wemmbu killed Spoke. ZAM: “[opens statistics] it still says zero. It still says zero. It still says zero it still says zero. So I’m fine. I’m fine. Cause it still says zero.. [walks around base] I’m fine. It’s perfectly fine. ‘0 plants potted’ (arch) okay actually that’s what I got the clay for so.. Thank you for saying that actually, very convenient timing. [goes to shed to smelt] [blows out breath] I’m just gonna chop down trees. I’m just gonna chop down trees and I’m just gonna leave this group and I’m gonna chop down trees and I’m gonna have a fun time and nothing bad’s gonna happen. And everything’s gonna be a-okay [hannah logged on] I thought Mapicc logged on I cannot lie. Okay maybe I’m scared. [Mapicc logs on] [gasp, crouches] motherfucker. Motherfucker [under breath]”

Dies to Mapicc three times. 

5:26:00 is thinking about how he’s doing a character nobody else on lifesteal has done before. Puts on a lore song. “‘If there’s one thing you’ve been consistent in the last two seasons, it’s been steady in your morals until the end’ (chips) yea. But here’s the thing though [giggle] does it matter? Or like, what’s it called. Am I restricting myself? Do you guys think? Most definitely, right. And it’s like. I dunno, a big part of me feels like it would be nice to like, let go, and just like, join in on all the violence, and everything, and all that stuff. You know? Like it would be nice. It would be nice, I think. Maybe. Maybe not, I don't know… [evil giggle] ahhh. [long pause, arch in chat said ‘once you do it you can’t go back though’ he doesn’t read it out] [lore music cuts out] [very seriously] no that’s stupid. No. I’m not gonna. I’m not gonna. [blows breath] I’m not gonna let myself go as far as I did last season. I’m not gonna let myself do anything like that again [tehe giggle] [huffs out breath]”

5:28:18 “‘it was fun tho’ (chips) it was, but it was fun at the expense of others. It was fun… but it was damaging to the server.. It was. I dunno. I don’t think it’s who I want to be. I don’t think I was born to be…That. you know? I don’t know. I feel like that’s not who I am. I feel like that was never who I was.” 

7/13/24 end fight day 

~2:38:00 ZAM: “‘its not ok to kill people but it's ok to ask people really nicely to kill people you don't like’ I’m allowed to persuade people’s opinions, I think, and I can only do that when I’m really really mad. [...] But i dunno. [sigh] I’ve messaged both opposing teams so i dunno, I don’t care enough though. Whatever. This is beyond me."

“Joker zam went back into his closet’ (meep) that’s true. I was possessed for a second there. [messages MC chat saying that] ‘my evil self wishes for me to kill everyone. I won’t tho.' 

7/14/24 day he kills planet

Hour and half of Pangi messing with him while he gets more and more frustrated at the shulker farm. 

1:28:50 Zam flies after Pangi and crits him out, but he stops. “I can’t crit him out like that, I’m gonna get my first player kill and it’s gonna ruin all my lore” 

1:40:00 pangi is still singing, Zam bows him, then tries fishing rodding him. He comes up the farm PANGI: “hey PrinceZam, do you need therapy?” ZAM: “shut up you always got some noise to make, shut up. [...] I bet you’re my first kill this season” PANGI: “BAHAHAA” ZAM: “just kidding I won’t kill anyone. Just kidding. Just kidding just kidding. That was a joke. That was a joke. I won’t kill anyone. [blows out breath]” PANGI: “okay PrinceZam.” 

1:47:00 ZAM: “what the fuck just happened to me. Dude, I need to stop. He keeps, he keeps trying to get me to get my first kill, bro. He’s trying to get me to get my first kill. I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t do it. It’s getting harder and harder, with each and every day, to hold back [sigh] oooh kay. ‘Why aren’t you killing anybody’ because as soon as I kill one person, I go down a dark dark path. And you don’t want to see that dark dark path. ‘WE DO’ I don’t. K fine, maybe you do. I don’t. A great darkness lurks within me. A great darkness lurks within me. It’s consumed me, ever since, ever since I was young. ‘Your dark side is banging on the door, let the poor guy in’ no. noo. I’m gonna build a closet in my house. ‘PLEASE DO IT’ where could I even, oh I know where I could actually build a closet right now, let’s do that right now actually hold on. Unironically lets do that right now” 

6:24:44 zam goes to bacon in his base, “Whenever I sleep, he comes to me. So i try not to sleep in that bed anymore” BACON: “[baffled] how did that even start. Like how did you even, what, how did this even become a thing in your head” ZAM: “[ignoring] there’s a demon in my closet, any time, any time I die he comes closer to possessing me.” BACON: “okay what is the demon trying to get you to do.” ZAM: “kill everyone” BACON: “oooohhh. Oh I like that. Okay okay” ` 

Then there’s the fated Bacon stream 

2:39:00 bacon and planet meme around about the build battle rules and Zam snaps, “if you want to be a bitch about it you don’t have to fucking play, goddamm. Dumbass fucking planetlord and baconnwaffles. I hate both of you. Fuck you guys. I’m going back into the house… i’m going into my closet” 

They clean up spawn a bit, he comes back out swinging at them. Then goes on top of the lighthouse and starts shooting them from a distance. 

Planet takes off all his armor and pops like a grape.

Then on Spep’s stream he stalks Spep around to the End islands, generally just looks really threatening. Says he won’t remember this when he wakes up, but Spep will. 

7/15/24 

~14:00 ZAM: “[strained] dude, pangi I killed planet” PANGI: “[strained too]I know. Hey, it wasn’t your fault” ZAM: “i shouldn’t have even had a bow” 

He builds the tree and writes his first oath 

In the first draft he wrote “I cannot do anything that goes against the interest of the entire server”

he changed “entire server” to “majority of players” to “most players” 

And changed “attack any player” because chat went crazy about him not being able to punch anyone, to “kill any other players” 

7/18/24 

Flame and mapicc start fighting

22:40 ZAM: “dude I did give mapicc a heads up there, I can’t lie. [realizing] I’ve been playing all sides, I can’t lie. This is interesting. I’m just chummy with everyone, I dunno, i don't do it intentionally. I do it a little intentionally, i can’t lie, but not like, intentionally”

33:20 ZAM: “I really don’t like the idea of playing both sides, but like, like- I’m trying my hardest not to, [...] Like if you shove 100 dollars in my face like I’m probably gonna take it right? Like like [giggling], it’s just like, ugh, it’s so stupid [laughing] i don’t like this. I don't know, I’m opportunist I guess. I’m just an opportunist I guess because I'm pacifist and I don't wanna die." So. But like also I really just don’t like the idea of being someone who plays both sides, it’s so awkward” while watching the fight from a distance. "

7/20/24 

From 2:43:00 to 3:15:00 hops between group chats and instinctively gets information and relays it to everyone else. Actually just leaks every word he hears lol. 

4:51:10 “imagine flame goes on a killing spree just so he can pay you to make more builds lol’ (citrus) dude. Is the blood on my hands then? That’s something I was wondering, what if this becomes bad. To where they’re like murdering people just for the sake of like, whats it called, paying me. ‘Yes you're evil then’ (sin) aw shit. It’s my fault. I mean I guess it depends on how bad it gets. I felt really bad when they killed jepex for me. I can’t lie, in the moment I thought it was really funny but looking back, it’s literally the same as like. Like I think me asking them to kill someone is the same as me killing them myself, it lowkey does not matter. So I’m lowkey like having another moral dilemma right there, on that one. ”

“I’m gonna stop asking people to fucking kill people for me that’s stupid, i don’t want to do that anymore”

This is so interesting, because day 1 he just wanted the statistic, and it was okay for him to do traps or gaslight people and all that. Then it was no traps, no violence. Then it was it’s okay to influence the opinions of people who already want to kill the people I want dead. Now it’s like, even that is not okay.

7/21/24 building Flame’s volcano in one day

45:00 [unprompted] “do you know something I was thinking of, which like, i just feel like it would be so easy to turn like, any tree, at spawn, into a trap. It would be so easy right? [...] I’m not gonna do it! Just like a fun idea. [..] [starts making the trap] but then it would make it real. I shouldn’t do this actually. I- i shouldn’t do this. This isn’t a good idea. Nevermind. Nevermind. [rubs face] Ooh my god, back to building back to building. I’m building I’m just building. [puffs out breath] I’m just building. I’m building a castle. I’m not why would I - why would i even make a [giggles] why did I even do that in the first place.” 

2:43:00 breaking the bedrock of the end fountain to make a concrete duper “i feel really good at this. Like too good at this. It’s just holding down q, it’s not that special. But fuck. ‘It’s in your blood’ I don't want to be the guy that left behind, that broke all that bedrock, you know? I don’t want that to be my legacy, I don't want that to be my reputation. I don’t want that to be what I leave behind. Aw geeze. [breaks last bedrock] oh my god. [frustrated] That was effortless”

7:31:30 “‘it’s ok you can blame all your blunders on the demon’ (seri) [lore] what if there was no demon. [not lore] new headcanon. Just me trying to justify my acts. [soft giggle] waittt.. [pause] thank goodness the demon is real, so. the demon is real. Only i can see him” 

8:23:00 crashout over not being “able” to defend himself.  “‘its okay zam we saw how you are at the end of every single season’ (citrus) yea, you guys have. The deep darkness that’s within me, [giggle] ugh. ‘They’ll see… one day’ (mer) I don’t want them to see, no, that’s the thing, i don’t want them to see. [..] It’s just like, like I Could fight, it’s just such a hassle, to like, get into it, and then not, you know. Cause like, okay, okay, here here, let’s envision it, lets say I do want to fight people, right? theoretically, but, I don’t want to let out the evil evil darkness that’s within me, right? How the hell am I gonna do that when I’m constantly taking fights, constantly losing, constantly getting overly attached, overly invested in conflict, like how am i gonna, how am I gonna contain the demon within, if I, what’s it called, if I, if I’m constantly getting myself into fights? You know? ‘Getting good’ (chips) no but like I’m being dead serious, like cause, what’s it called, eventually they’re gonna hit me in a way that is gonna make me want to go full force, there’s no point in trying to fight if I’m not gonna go 100% all in, you know? So. I dunno. Maybe if I get better at my self control and discipline” 

So there’s two things. One, “it’s a hassle” is classic burnout. And you just have to wait for burnout to leave. And two, he is very self aware that someone will do something that will make him get invested. But he won’t flip that switch until that happens because there is no point. Which is very valid and wise. 

It’s such an interesting conversation, because it’s the first time he hasn’t made breaking his oath into a silly lore moment. It’s really settling into being a real part of him. He’s being honest about what fighting would actually do.

10:36:00 talks to jumper about his pacifism and their parallels. He tells her about how he knows he’ll get too invested and he wont want to hold back. As opposed to being unable. 

7/24/24 

53:10 Zam goes to the trial chambers again “dude wait these slimes have strength, are they gonna kill me? Dude I wanted to feel something but now I’m just not feeling anything actually. I was, I was, I was expecting more of a challenge”

7/25/24 day 1 peace trials

16:30 “do you think SB737 is going to kill me if he finds me? His layer’s off, I think he ran away from spawn after that one. I could see him trying though. I’ve lowkey, dude, lowkey i've been wishing someone would kill me, unfortunately I did starve to death, so now I don’t wish someone would kill me anymore. But like, it’s just been sooo peaceful, building these past few days you know? Like i haven’t ran into any kind of metal peril in soooo long like that’s crazy you know. It’s been a hot minute.”

First time he talks about wanting to be chased. 

37:00 annoyed about SB butting him in D teir for how easy he would be killed.  “‘zam is the most aggressive pacifist’ yea! Cause I mean how else am I supposed to let my anger out other than with my words. I still have emotions. They're still there” 

7/29/24 

1:07:24 still ignoring Bacon “If I’m gonna be a pacifist and not kill people, I should be able to hold a grudge somehow” “my only fighting method” 

Plotting the shift in zam’s mindset is like making a color spectrum and it’s just ever so slightly gradient-ed and before you know it it’s just all red.

8/17/24 

58:00  MANE: “but think about how many hearts I’ve given you before Zam”  ASH: “WAIT. ZAm is accepting hearts from people That Kill? That’s not very peaceful of you zam. That goes against your oath. You’re just accepting heart that has, that puts blood on your hands. I’m not even joking about this” ZAM: “I-, I don’t. I don’t think it does.” ASH: “You’re benefiting from the spoils of the death that you claim to be so against”  Zam jumps away from the conversation at the same time. nervously? 

ZAM: “[calmly] if kills have already happened what am I supposed to do to stop it. I only care about myself not killing people” [parkouring over to the roof of the house] ASH: “You literally” ZAM: “not other people. The server can do whatever the fuck it wants. I don’t care” PANGI” aaahhhhh” ASH: “That’s the most. That’s the most selfish view” 

ZAM: “I learned from you! The best side to play is all sides, right? That’s what you said [...] hypocrytical as fuck” ASH: “I mean, I’m not claiming to be any good person, I’m just saying your whole oath and code of honor is” ZAM: “I’m not either. I’m trying to be a good person but, hey” PANGI: “You’re doing a really bad job I can tell you that, Zam” ZAM: “yea. [swings around to look at pangi] coming from you is crazy” 

1:03:00 “‘you’ve only done build commissions for incredibly violent people huh’ (arch) that is something to consider huh, am I [sharp breath in] let me put on the lore music hold on. Am I. and I, I don’t think I’m the worst person to- okay. No. you know what? It doesn’t matter. Because there are worse people on this server. So I’m not that bad by comparison [...] You know I’m doing better than I did last season [...] So I’m okay. I’m happy with my choices I feel like. I dunno. I mean like gaining, gaining hearts is not the worst thing in the world, it’s kind of like the point of the server is it not? I dunno. Hmmm ‘i mean violent people are the ones who have the hearts’ (citrus) exactly! Yea, my only, the only people I CAN do business with is the violent people”

“But by taking hearts from them am I not encouraging them to kill more? Yea, that’s something to consider as well, you know? Cause, but it’s like. Ugggghhh let me read through the oath again. ‘Are they killing other violent people or innocents’ (arch) that’s true! I mean. They kill innocents when they feel like killing innocents it depends on the person i’m dealing with. [...]  I can’t control what other people do. It’s not selfish [heavy emphasis. Meaning ashsawg’s comment] it’s just like, me controlling what I can control. You can only control, you should only worry about what you can control, and what I can control is limiting myself.”

“I mean shit. What do I even want these hearts for” 

“‘you got one kill’ ‘you killed planet’ okay okay okay you killed planet okay. I hate how many people are talking about that. [..]  ‘YOU CANNOT DENY IT ZAM’ yes I fucking can! Yes I fucking can! Because I shot at him as a fucking like bit, because was obviously never to kill him, and he took off all his fucking armor. I’ve been over it! I have been over it like a million times it’s insane! I gave back the heart too like what. [opens statistics] Like it doesn’t even count. [closes statistics] It does not count. ‘You’re still killing’ [mocking] you're still killing. Okay actual like bot opinion. Bot take. Actual bot take is what this is. Insane. Like actually insane. The fact that people are still on this is craaaazy like actually crazy. ‘PANGI HASN’T’ oohhhh that’s what this is about. That’s what this is about. That’s what this is about, it’s about pangi, and and pangi being better than me okay.” 

“That’s what this is about. It means nothing to me. Means nothing to me. I don’t care. PANGI LITERALLY- okay. Okay. okay. Okay. okay. Okay. okay. Okay. [giggle laugh] pangi is a pacifist because he wants to be. But that’s like. Dude, woogie 1 for 1 took my thing. Dude, it’s crazy how many people are pacifist why did everyone like take my thing I mean like the whole point is proof of concept is prove that it’s possible, right, but like heh heh. It’s also lame that other people are taking my thing. [more deranged leaning giggles] ‘everybody wants to be princezam.’ (mer) oh my god. “

8/19/24 

~1:11:00 found Mapicc in his base. MAPICC: “and i just like, when are you gonna kill people” ZAM: “pppffff [mocking/flabberghasted] ‘when are you going to kill people?’ [reduced to laughter] MAPCIC: ”mmhmm” ZAM: “I’m not!” MAPICC: “see that's so weird.” [...] ZAM: “you start critting me out I don’t fight back” MAPICC: “actually?” ZAM: “no like genuinely, yea” MPAICC: “wait. Okay [pots up and takes all armor off but helmet and boots]” 

1:34:00 “a little terrifying i can’t lie. it’s weird. I feel like after an encounter like that I’d have a teammate to go talk to about this. But there really isn't anyone like that this time around”

8/22/24 

3:30 about the mapicc infestation “It was a very interesting fight. Honestly one of my favorite fights of the season” 

19:40 “ohh ‘kaboodle the pacifist’ (evi4) Wait kaboodle the pacifist? Are we fucking serious. Yo. okay. Okay.  i’m not even going to say nothing bro. I’m not even going to say nothing. I’m. I’m not even going to say nothing. I’m not even going to say nothing. I’m not. I’m not even [starting to laugh]  going to say nothing, bro [deep breath in and out] how come the one season. Like the one season, that i do it and it’s like interesting, everyone else decides to do it. In season 4 no one copied subz. Everyone made fun of him. But now, but now i do it and everyone wants to fucking be me okay. Okay. no okay. No okay. No like. Bro. [so sad] [...] ‘Everyone is just scared of the big pvp-ers’ (arch) that’s true. It’s not even. It’s not even like me. Oh my god. It’s not even because i’m cool. No it’s not even because of me, it’s just they don’t want to get killed”

27:00 kab asks if she can talk to zam and get advice “oh bet. Oh i love giving advice to my fellow pacifists. My favorite thing to do ever” /sarcastic

31:40 Woogie drops in “Zam is amazing at making people peaceful”

34:00 “if your goal is pacifism, then yea, he’s passing, but if your goal is to not get murdered by people then you probably shouldn’t be destroying other people’s builds, you know. That’s how you start wars” about pangi’s pacifism. 

Which is ALSO interesting. Because zam cares about not starting wars because he doesn't want to get emotionally pulled into a fight.

ZAM: “its like i’m in a skit. And like, as soon as i start questioning one character, and another character comes out and is like “ooh i’m also a remake of you!” what the fuck is happening” 

“You know what’s keeping me going is that i’ll probably outlast them” 

42:40 “is this a bad thing? Am i bad for not wanting them to be a, [laugh] to be peaceful like me? Is that a bad thing? I mean like, i feel like, uhg. But it’s like, they- [sharp breath in] what is- what have THEY gone through? To want this change” 

“Like kaboodle is doing it to save her skin. Woogie is doing it to save his skin, like. It’s very different i feel like. It’s just very different. I [whispers] oh  my god. [spins around] what did. What do they know! What do they know. Oh my god. Fuck damn. I think that’s why i’m upset. It’s not that like, [long pause] bruh.” 

“How can i rise about the rest. That's what i want to do now. That’s what I wanna do now. I want to rise above the rest. That’s what i’m thinking about right now, i’ll be honest. How do I [sharp breath in] [blows air out] like. This is-. [grumble] this is stupid. This is dumb. I shouldn't even think about this. You know what this is dumb."

48:00 “it’s not like a fun thing to do. Like. I- being a pacifist has been like, it’s it’s had its moments i guess. I dunno though. Definitely, i’ll admit it, not the most.. fun. But uh. Thats. that’s besides the point. That’s okay. That’s.. that’s fine [deep breath in and out]” 

“‘being a pacifist isn't for everyone, you have to truly believe in the rules and know your own limits so you can be pacifist’ (hexlarry) but like that’s the thing, do i even like, fully believe in it? Cause now i’m starting to question myself. I mean I did it not so that i could save my own skin. I did it so that i could, i dunno, just avoid repeating prior mistakes. And things like that. Sooo. because getting myself into fights would probably lead me down a very very dark path and i don't want to [sharp breath] i don't wanna do all that so by avoiding conflict at all costs I, I can, what’s it called, hmmm [spins around] fuck [princezam distress noises] [...] ‘has something changed’ i dunno. I’d hope not”

“‘it feels like they’re mocking you a little’ (evu) a little bit! I guess so. That’s kind of true as well honestly. I dunno. Hmmm, it’s very. Very interesting. Very interesting turn of events. I dunno. It’s not that i feel like it’s my thing. I feel like everyone should be allowed to do it, it just feels like the way that they’re doing it kind of is like, i guess it is, i dunno. It’s a little bit like.. Hmm yea ‘it’s an easy way out to them’ (arch) to them, to them it doesn't have any of the same significance it does to me. They're doing it because they want to live longer, they want to hold onto their hearts longer, i’m doing it because I like- i essentially need to- ugh. I dunno. I’m doing it- hrmmm. No, i’m doing it because… Because i want to. Because I want to. I want to. It’s my decision. I want to do it. I dunno [jumps around thinking for a while]” 

The last part is said in the same tone he used during the Abyss arc when his team wasn't logging on to help him.

“It’s not about what other people have done though. It’s about me upholding an oath i guess. Me.. avoiding [giggle] repeating mistakes and stuff. Umm. i dunno ‘it’s a conflict with myself’ (mer) exactly. It’s entirely. Entirely within me. And that was a situation that, admittedly, I had control over. I could have just not shot my bow at him. It’s a lesson learned i guess. But. I dunno. I- I just hate it. I hate it so much because that was not meant to happen at all. Like. it’s ridiculous. Its just ridiculous i feel like. I dunno. ‘Bro is still talking about this’ yea because I care about it.”

8/23/24

5:38:00  WEMMBU: “you’re profiting off the economy of people being murdered” ZAM: “I don’t know if that’s true at all even. That’s just. [trying to talk while wemmbu is talking over him] Anyone who lives on this server is profiting off the economy bro. I don't know what you’re talking about. [...] That that’s like breathing air on this server is benefitting form the economy bro” WEMMBU: “and you’re the one that’s saying you’re and innocent soul bruh” ZAM: “i’m, somewhat innocent. I’m innocent to the point where I won’t lure someone to spawn so you guys can kill them. That's how innocent I am” WEMMBU: “wah wahh wah” 

And he leaves the group

ZAM: “Get me the fuck out of here. I simply participate in society. All i do is live and breathe air and try to live an honest to god living.”

~5:51:00 “‘Oh so you agree you’d be responsible in that scenario’ (arch) yea! If he’s going out of his way to kill people For That [the build he wanted to commission], like to pay For That, I feel like yea, I feel like then I’m definitely responsible. [...] But mane, flame, mapicc, they already have the hearts, I know they withdrew them from their hotbar, they did in front of me, it did the sound. So, yea. And flame just had a heart bank that he went and grabbed. So. yea no, those hearts were already acquired. They were, like, those kills happened, it’s over. It’s good.” 

8/24/24

2:13:00 “that was interesting. What a day. I almost hopped into a fight. Probably wont do it again, that was a one time offer. But. i dunno. I was willing to die for a cause. I wasn’t going to hit him.” 

“Maybe i faltered. Did I falter? By willing to fight? I wouldn’t hit him. I don’t think. Maybe I’d hit him. I don’t- [scoff] would it be fine as long as i don't kill him?” “it’s my rules” 

“Yea mapicc did get really excited when i mentioned pvp. That was really interesting. That was cool. I do have no critting yea. Hmmm. i dunno. I did just want to support my friend flame ‘you're just helping out a friend i think thats in the servers best interests’ (arch) that’s true. Yea. if i, i dunno, cause like the main goal is to just work in the server’s best interests. And i guess in that situation that, specific, little situation, fighting flame was actually in everyone, everyone who’s online’s best interests. Ironically. So yea. Despite it normally being the wrong answer, violence was kind of the answer to fixing that problem there. ” 

2:18:00  “I’m worried though. Like I feel like the lack of violence encourages me to like, i dunno” 

“I think people should be more violent, i think that’s fair, that’s what this server is about. I haven't changed my stance on that, the server is about killing people. It’s not about [giggle] the atrocities I’ve committed, that’s for sure” 

“‘That’s not very pacifist I mean’ like that’s whatever, it’s princezam then. It doesn’t matter. Pacifist is just the moniker I chose, but if it’s not fitting it’s not fitting. I’m doing whatever I believe” 

“‘the blowing up builds and killing weaklings was your more problem. not your violence inherently’ (arch) exactly. And unfortunately I feel like with any sort of violence [tsht] unfortunately all paths lead to that road. You know? Everything will just eventually get me there. I think it’s better to swear it off, you know. It’s just, It’s just for the better”

Flame blows up spawn.

2:52:00 “And my heart count too. I was trying to get to 20 but like - what does that even do, what is that even good for, if i can't do anythin- if i’m powerless to stuff like this, if i’m powerless to this. This. Like what’s the point, even like what’s-... I feel like everything I’ve done is just like actually completely futile now. Like, none of it matters. NONE of it matters, not even a little, if other people are just going to take up the mantle. What like, what’s the POINT?... I don't get it. I mean holding out, not giving in, despite all of this, would prove me as a way stronger player than him, but WHAT GOOD DOES THAT ACCOMPLISH. SO WHAT?! Like, he’s just going to do this again, like why does it matter? Why does it even matter? What the- what does moral highground get me? What does moral high ground even get me. Why did i think this was even a good idea even a little bit, [so loud] OH MY GOD. [pause] ‘It doesn't even mean anything to anyone but me’ (arch) exactly. This. oh my god. It’s not just to myself though (arch) it’s ahhh Fuck. It’s supposed to make up for everything I did- For just everything I did in general really. That’s what it’s supposed to be, but, like ah, does anyone care really? Does anyone care? Other than me? At this point I don't think so. There’s bigger problems. ‘Spawn looked the best this season’ it did. It really did. It really really did. It really did. [tabs out for a long time, just silent] i can't’ believe this. I can’t believe this. [sigh] oh my god. [leaning head back] Dude. and like. Oh my god. Yea no one is going to do anything that’s true. The fact of the matter is [laughing as talking] no one is going to do anything about this. Because no one cares. And that’s what he’s going to realize. [...] That’s all fine to me, it doesn't matter. It doesn’t matter. This is definitely the furthest I’ve wavered, on this path of mine. Dear god. [blows out breath] and i was the only one here to do anything about it oh my god [silence] ‘they did call me ground zero’ [puts head in hands while reading it] is it my fault? Is it my- wait you’re right. [breathing heavily] it kind of in a, in a weird, fucked up twisted way, it kind of is my fault. Because my stupid pacifism stuff it it spiraled out of control and got to woogie, got to pangi, it’s it’s like [grrr grumble] (all of chat is screaming that it isn't his fault.) I, oh my god. Oh my god. Dude like. I actually feel so dumb. I feel like I’ve wasted the past month or two. I’ve actually just feel like I’ve been wasting my time. Like, like none of that matters. Actually none of that matters, I feel like, anymore. And like, because I did all that, everyone else copied me. Everyone copied me, they were right! No, they were right. That’s the messed up part of this, is that they’re Right. And that they probably will get a fight out of this, that’s the Fucked up part of this” 

3:04:00 “If I fight them I give them exactly what they want. It’s so fucked up. There’s no, there's no winning option here. There’s nothing I can do to win” 

Realizes he can just rebuild. Rejuvenated in one second flat. 

“Do I just keep rebuilding it over and over? [...]  But I don’t care! I’m not giving up. I don't care, I don't care!” “this is literally what I do. What am I tripping for? This is literally what I do”

3:35:30 “I feel like most people would not have the mental fortitude to experience what I just experienced and then Not Fight. Like that is an absurd thing to do. But it’s a me thing to do. So” 

3:37:00 “i know i don't have all of my screws together, but i definitely, i think i could win a battle of mental fortitude if I wanted”

Talks to everyone and forms Gaia’s Hand

5:46:00 wrapping up stream along “dude I know like, i’m real confident and real happy and shit, but I , I am terrified. I am terrified [stares into a big cave thinking] i dunno. I'm not gonna second guess myself but. It’s just- it’s a scary battle. It’s a very scary battle. I dunno”

“Mean, I’m not alone. That's true. That definitely helps [...] I feel like the last time I spent a lot of time repairing spawn it didn't end too well. Lowkey that’s when everything went horribly wrong, actually. i feel like it’s just been downhill since there.”

“I am doing this to spite flame, but at the same time the thing I care about the most is just having the server where spawn can't just get destroyed. I dunno. That’s what I care about the most”

5:53:40 “‘you and your attachments to spawn’ (seri) [wistful] it’s, it’s the heart of the server. It’s the heart of the server. And, i dunno, I can’t, i can’t help myself but protect it. In every way that I can. I dunno. It’s just in my nature. Which is ironic, considering the atrocities I’ve committed.” 

8/29/24

44:30 “support the people trying to ban them and the builds won’t get destroyed anymore’ (chips) that’s true. But do the ends justify the means? Like sure I will get spawn builds being safe, but I’m, I also am taking some part in someone getting banned off the server. which, i dunno. I feel like i don't want to be a part of” 

45:00 “Is it for the greater good, or it for my greater good. It has to be objective, it can’t be a skewed biased point of view” 

1:05:20 “i can only control myself, and only the small few who have joined me” “kaboodle and woogie” “Ironically they’re truly the only ones who are part of gaia’s hand”

Week long break for MMCR

9/9/24

11:40 ZAM: “I’ve kind of realigned my look on the server [...] Everyone’s goal goes back to, like, killing. So I feel like if I help anyone I’m like sort of contributing to the violence on the server, which is something I- which I can’t prevent obviously but it’s not also something I’d like to contribute to. The whole point is I don't want to contribute to violence and you know, kill people I guess. I dunno” 

How far princezam has come. It was never about actual pacifism… except now it is. He truly is a pacifist now. He used to be a bad pacifist and now he’s just a pacifist for real. How interesting. 

19:00 “That’s just the spite and hatred in my heart. I’m full of hatred recently, that’s something i’ve noticed as well. Definitely something i’ve noticed” 

44:00 “I feel like nothing accomplishes anything. I feel like anything I would do would just make things worse. I dunno. Maybe that’s just me though. Maybe that's just me and the way I feel. I dunno” 

“I just want to win. You know? But how do I go about that even? There’s nothing to win against."

~1:27:00 “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind” “interesting phrase considering the circumstance I’m in. [...] yea i mean violence is good to those who love it. I’m just unfortunately not one of those people. At least at the moment. [pause] Well I wouldn't say at the moment actually. I would say I’m not one of those people. For sure. Used to be. Not anymore.” 

1:53:00  “when i think of goals, the first thing that comes to mind is like, laying in a field of flowers. That’s what I want to do. That’s what I want to do. I dunno”

9/11/24

~40:00 “it makes me question what my path is, cause i’m not, i’m not i’m not i’m not  i’m not a killer or anything at least i don't want to kill anyone, i don't want to be doing that. Soo where does that leave me?  What am I gonna do, what am I princezam gonna do.” 

[acebytaemin]

it’s 1.18 am and i can’t sleep bc there’s a thunderstorm and i’m scared of them like a big loser so. don’t hold me accountable for my thoughts and feelings but

[cptnbeefhrt]

im guna use this dumbahh dead blog as a dumping ground for my feelings since less ppl know im on here but genuinely what is the point. like at all. every time sumn genuinely good comes into my life theres either a catch or sumn 2x worse happens after. i was hospitalized earlier this year after my dad died n my life has literally j gotten worse n worse since i got out. i literally do not have a reason to keep living n never had n the only reason i’ve stayed n continue to stay is bcus i dont wanna fuck up the attempt n be in even more pain😭 like yay i got an apartment. now im struggling to find a new job and my mom got fired from hers yesterday. my life is so comically bad its genuinely a joke. n i wish i could tell yall im glad ive made it this long but i’m not

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

i don’t like. the irrationality created by memories

[queerunpleasantdanger]

.

[qqueenofhades]

https://www.tumblr.com/qqueenofhades/743255237060689920/the-thing-that-confuses-me-about-the-dont-vote

The “don’t vote” left’s point is basically that, if Biden gets a second term, it’ll basically signal that “They’ll vote for us as long as we’re not Republicans, why don’t we do some REAL fucked up shit, if we can get away with it?” It takes the power out of the people’s hands and places it firmly in the party’s.

I can’t completely disagree with that, my caveat is that there’s no real alternative system or party in place, because top-down change is ineffective; a third party president has to contend with a two party congress.

Except no. This whole "Biden just wants to do as much fucked up shit as possible while not being a Republican, and if you give him a second term he'll do more fucked up shit deliberately to spite you" mindset is only possible as an interpretation if you a) deliberately and comprehensively ignore everything he has done to date, and b) you approach the situation with the maximum bad faith possible. Not to mention, the ultimate outcome of this Big Important Teaching Biden A Lesson is that Trump gets back into power and makes everything orders of magnitude worse, because he does in fact want to deliberately do evil shit to everyone and says so at every opportunity. There is not some magical happy alternative that springs into existence by not voting. If you choose this as a year to Teach Biden A Lesson, you are enabling Trump. Trump will be much, much worse. If you don't care about that, I still do not care what your Great Ideology is. You are not helping anyone and you are directly and irreversibly hurting everyone.

I made a post a few days ago wherein I mentioned that I want to assess Biden fairly, taking into account both strengths and weaknesses, but the rampant bad-faith, lying, misreading, misrepresentation, and open sabotage of him (especially by the online left; the GOP sometimes only wishes they were as good at turning Biden's voter pool against him) makes it really difficult to do that. My frustration with those people makes me just want to go "BIDEN IS GREAT THE END." I know he is a flawed old man (though by literally every account of a career spent in public service, he really does care about making the world a better place and any remotely good faith reading of his accomplishments thus far can see that). It is also very likely that he goes MORE left in a second term because he won't have to face the electorate again, he has always gone more left when pushed before, and he's not actually the scheming genocidal mastermind that leftist social media paints him as. Shocking, I know.

I know there are things in the world we don't like and don't want and want to stop, and therefore we blame our own president for not making it stop. But I have zero, no, none, absolutely none whatsoever sympathy for this pseudo-populist "WE NEED TO TEACH BIDEN A LESSON BY ELECTING TRUMP AGAIN, I AM VERY MORAL MUCH ACTIVIST" mindset. There's this funny thing about America wherein it is still (for now) a democracy. If Biden wins a second term, he can't run again. I would take literally anything these people said more seriously if they focused on developing their dream progressive successor for 2028 (and also figured out how to get that person elected and in a place to make real change) rather than cynically sabotaging Biden in the most consequential election year, again, of our lifetimes. If you don't like him now, find a way to make his successor a better option. Throwing a toddler tantrum and handing the country back to a senile, deranged, fascist, revenge-riddled, theocratic Trump HELPS. NOBODY. I still don't know how many times I'm going to have to say that, but yeah.

[giantkillerjack]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I am a little creature largely made up of anxieties. There have been times in my life when it was worse. It’s currently significantly better. This story takes place at a time when it was pretty bad.

Food was a prison for me. I moved out early with very little idea of how to feed or care for myself. Every meal was a question mark. For three years I had Brendan doing most of the cooking but when things ended between us I moved in with some other friends. I suddenly had no way to feed myself again.

I was working at the sex shop and living with all my coworkers; a premise that would make sitcom writers weep. In that house, at the age of 24, I learned how to fry an egg. It was the only thing I knew how to do but by god, I mastered egg frying. I was so proud. I could now have one stress free meal a day of an egg on toast.

The problem was my roommates. Living with three other people is already tough but messes pile up alarmingly fast, especially in the kitchen. No one sees the whole mess as their responsibility but the one person who’s responsibility it absolutely wasn’t was mine, as I only ever cooked eggs. Glaciers moved quicker than the dishes got done, mountains of greasy unwashed dish ware were fixtures across the counters.

My friends occasionally cooked for me and each time I happily cleaned all the resulting dishes. This seemed fair.

But on my own I only used three implements for my egg. When I finished with my spatula, pan, and plate, I carefully washed them and set them to dry. Every time I came back to the kitchen there was nothing clean.

Crusted on ketchup, dried food, and unsavory residues plagued everything I needed to touch. So I ended up doing all the dishes twice, once to use my three implements and again once I was done.

I started to realize I’d come home, see the filthy pile of dishes, then go to bed without eating because I didn’t have the energy to wash it all. So I finally addressed my roommates about it. Please, I beseeched them, can these three things always be clean. I cannot function like this, and eating is already hard for me.

The answer returned: no. My request was deemed unreasonable and a counteroffer was made to turn off the small space heater I ran in my room in exchange for them magnanimously cleaning up after themselves. I declined, as my bones ached with cold everywhere except my room since no one else wanted the heat on. The impasse continued. I went to be hungry.

I noodled on it. I schemed. I plotted. And on my day off I went to a thrift shop and acquired a nice little pan and spatula. I squirreled them away into my closet. The plan was just to wash and dry it after meals and keep it in my room.

This is not how it went down. On day one of my pan coming home one of my roommates popped into my room to chat, glanced into my three quarters shut closet and immediately said, “What is that?”

I sighed and admitted my plan. All three roommates roundly condemned my plan as extremely passive aggressive. I tried once again to explain that I wasn’t eating, but my secret pan was now a source of contention, a precious resource held back from the collective.

Their discontent reached a fever pitch and I finally declared, “Fine! I will put my pan in the kitchen. On one condition. If I ever find this pan dirty, ever, I will scrape whatever is left on it into your bedding. I swear to god, if I ever come home to it being dirty there will be a reckoning.”

Terms were agreed.

The first month or two went okay. On the third month I awoke to eat breakfast and found my precious pan sullied. I grabbed it and marched upstairs. Betty was named as the culprit. I strode into Betty’s room and stood over her sleeping form like the vengeful ghost of dishes past.

“If you don’t get up and clean this right now I’m going to dump it on your bed.”

Betty groggily regarded me. “Seriously?”

“I have never been more serious.”

“It’s one time, can’t you just clean it yourself?”

“No. You promised.”

With much huffing and grousing Betty arose from bed and tromped downstairs, hastily cleaning my pan while I watched. “Happy?” She demanded.

I was. I made my egg, cheerfully cleaning the pan afterward, leaving it to dry.

[f1goat]

his stripper + lando norris (one shot)

In which Lando his friends take him to a stripclub, where he meets you. He's quick to come back weekly, every Tuesday you're his. But when he comes another day and finds you on the lap of some other guy, something in him snaps.

fem!stripper reader x lando norris

trigger warnings: stripper reader, sexual content, smut, a bit of unwanted physical contact (nothing much!) + not proofread as usual

masterlist - playlist

the first time at the stripclub

He’s nervous. This is nothing for him. The whole setting is wrong and puts him off. His mood is getting worse instead of better, but he can’t tell his friends about that. They tried, they really did. After Lando told them about being a bit miserable since the break up with his ex, they tried everything to cheer him up. Nothing really worked. Clubbing all night whenever he could, didn’t do the trick. Flirting shamelessly with every girl he saw, also didn’t work. He believes that tonight is some last option. A ‘if this doesn’t work, nothing will’ kind of option. 

But, this is a fucking stripclub. It won’t help him feel any better. To be honest, it only seems to make things worse. 

Lando looks at every small detail in the club. The atmosphere makes him even more nervous. It surprises him that there are many young guys who seem to be around his age. He always thought there only would be older guys. He takes a sip of his drink. It seems to be some strong cocktail with whiskey. He doesn’t like it. 

“You’re looking as bitter as that drink,” one of his friends tell him jokingly. 

Lando soft sighs and nods, “Maybe you’re right,” he says. 

“Just enjoy this mate,” another friend says. 

Lando tries to think about words that can tell his friends that he won’t enjoy this, but he doesn’t want to sound ungrateful. Before he can think about the right words, he’s distracted by the music becoming louder. Almost ashamed he starts to look at the podium, where you enter the place and greet everyone with a timid smile. 

You aren’t what Lando thought a stripper would be. It’s almost as there is an innocence hanging around you. He almost feels like he has to save you from this place. What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? Lando already starts to feel infected with the thoughts about you. He’s already feeling you enter his mind and making a long term place for yourself.

That can’t be good.

He keeps looking at you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you. Everything about you is beautiful. You aren't a model like his ex, but maybe that’s what he likes most about you right now. There’s some sort of natural beauty hanging around you. And in combination with the innocence look on your face, it makes you way too dangerous for him. He should look away from you, leave this place and never come back. But Lando already starts to feel addicted. Fuck, who are you?

“I told you he’d like her.” He hears one of his friends make a remark to another one. He wonders if his friends came here more often. Have saw you before. Maybe even touched you? Fuck, he almost feels himself getting mad at only the thought.

You’re a stripper. He needs to remind himself about that all the time. But when he sees the way you’re moving on the stage, his opinion changes again. You’re not simply stripping like earlier girls on that stage did. It’s almost like you’re performing some sort of art. 

He really is losing his mind here.

Lando looks at all the movements you make. He watches how you slowly tease the crowd with your movements. When you unclasp your bra, Lando almost loses it. He doesn’t want you to show everyone even more of your body. A relieved sigh is leaving his mouth when he notices the nipple stickers on your boobs. 

The short skirt you’re wearing is next. Slowly you turn yourself around to give the crowd a sneak peak. Lando wants nothing more then to feel your ass. When he sees what you’re hiding on the short skirt, he wants nothing more for you to sit in his lap. Eventually you lose the skirt as well. Lando feels in some trance while staring at you. Why can’t he function like a normal person anymore?

When the first girls danced on stage, he couldn’t care less. But with you? He can’t seem to look away. His friends notice it as well. It’s probably even worse then they already expected. Lando doesn’t pay attention to them anymore, until you leave the stage. He can barely withhold himself from throwing money on the stage as well. It seems rude to do so, even though it’s your job. 

Would it be a sin to get you alone with him? 

The next girl shows up and starts her routine, but Lando has lost his focus again. He’s focussing on his friends who are making fun of him for liking you this much. It annoys him how he doesn’t even know who you are, what your name is and how he can see you again. 

“We have one more surprise for you,” his best friend, Max, tells him. Lando gives him a strange look. What is he talking about? Instead of getting an explanation, there’s showing up someone in front of him. It seems to be one of the security members from the club. “Suzuka is ready for you,” he tells Lando. 

“Go with him,” his friends encourage Lando. He feels strange. Who’s Suzuka? Is that a nickname from one of the strippers? Of course his friends picked someone with a name who’s connected to formula one. He sighs, but he does follow the security member. What if it’s you? He needs to know for sure.

In a short amount of time he has followed the guy to a smaller room. There’s no one around yet. The guy tells Lando that Suzuka will be here any moment. It makes him nervous. When he looks around in the room, it’s clear that it’s used for the more private dances. Fuck. He doubts about leaving this room, this place and his friends, to go home. But the small chance of you being Suzuka stops him. So, he takes place on the small couch that’s standing in the room. 

When the door opens, he’s surprised that it is actually you. 

Apparently his friends know him ever better then he already thought. They did pick out the right girl. 

From up close you look even more beautiful to him. Lando again feels like he’s entering some sort of trance. You walk closer towards him. It makes him nervous. What does he need to say to you? He doesn’t even know what’s going to happen next. Is he getting a private dance? Or are his friends just pranking him? 

“Hey,” you softly greet Lando. It amazes him that you still seem shy and timid. He thought that was an act for on the stage. “Hi,” Lando greets you back with even more nerves. 

When you show Lando another small smile, he feels like he’s going to lose it. He needs to feel your body against his. He needs it. Now. His dick has already hardened up and is pressing painfully against his jeans. 

“I need to inform you about the rules first,” you tell him a bit less timid. It’s almost like a business transaction right now. “You can’t touch me unless I give permission first, which I normally don’t. When the time is up, it’s up. No begging for more. This is just a lap dance. Don’t ask for more, because this is all I do. If you want more, find another girl.” 

“You only give lap dances?” Lando asks you. 

“Yes,” you confirm.

“Thank god,” Lando sighs. 

He doesn’t know where this reaction is coming from. He’s just glad that other guys can’t touch you as well. Before you can ask him about his reaction, there’s a slow song starting. Apparently it’s your sign to start dancing. In no time you’re closely pressed up against his body. Slowly grinding your ass against Lando his body. It takes a lot from him to stop himself from touching you. 

Lando doesn’t know how to act. The moves you’re making are making him lose his mind. It’s insane. He wants to touch you, but he can’t. There’s nothing more he wants then to press his lip against any place of your body. To discover your body with his hands. To do whatever you allow him to. But he doesn’t make any movements. He lets you do your thing. He can’t however stop himself from questioning you. 

“What’s your real name?” He asks you when he notices that the song is about to end.

You grind yourself on his clothed dick and even let out a soft moan. Something that surprises you as well. Normally you absolutely hate doing this part of your job, even saying no whenever you can to the private dances. But this guy, he’s doing things to you as well. And that without even doing things.

“I’ll tell mine in return,” Lando tries to convince you. He doesn’t know that you know who he is. You know a lot more about him then he suspects at this point.

“No need Lando,” you tell him. You see how his eyes widen from the surprise. What you don’t see is that Lando feels like he’s really losing everything right now. It sounds heavenly to hear you say his name. “But,” you continue with a soft voice, “if you promise to keep it a secret, you can know mine.”

“Promise,” Lando quickly says.

The music has stopped in the mean time. You know that you have to leave this room, but before you actually do so you move closer to Lando once more. 

“It’s y/n,” you whisper in his ear, “and maybe if you come again, you can figure out some other things about me.” 

It’s the first time ever that you ask someone to come again. 

You really hope you’ll see Lando again. 

the second time at the stripclub

It surprises you when the following Tuesday Lando is already back in the stripclub. You wonder if it’s for you. Or is it just a coincidence? It doesn’t take you long to notice him. He’s early and it seems like he’s alone this time. Before you can think about it in any more details, you’re already distracted by the others girls in the dressing room with you. 

They have seen him as well. It’s not that weird for a celebrity to be seen in this stripclub. It’s Monaco after all. Charles Leclerc has been here a couple times as well and many non formula one related celebs as well. But still, it seems like your coworkers have found some interest in Lando as well. They keep talking about his good looks and how they would drop everything for him. How he can have his way with them, even discarding the rules of the club. “If he wants to fuck me, who am I to say no?” One girl even jokes.

It makes you annoyed in some weird way. Before you had a small bit of hope for Lando to pick you again tonight. But now you realize that last time his friends chose, this time he’ll probably try someone else. Maybe even one from your coworkers who doesn’t follow the rules. 

While standing in front of the mirror you decide to change your outfit again. Now that you know that he’s here again, you have another outfit in mind. It’s a bit more orange then what you’re wearing now, some may even say that it’s more papaya. 

Lando has already made sure that you’re his after your show. The small room from before has been booked again. Since he met you last week, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He needed to see you again. So, here he is. This will probably be the last time, he just needs to prove to himself that you weren’t that special. He hasn’t been this close with another girl since his ex, that must have been the cause for his extreme reaction. 

When you show up in a tiny papaya dress on the stage, Lando has lost all his earlier thoughts.

Fucking hell. He was so wrong. You’re more then special. You’re everything.

He watches your show. He can safely say that he didn’t even miss a millisecond. He saw everything. He couldn’t even tear his eyes of you if he wanted to. 

After your show he’s quick to walk towards the same room as last week. This time he can find it himself. When he’s standing in front of the door, he suddenly starts to feel nervous. Isn’t it weird what he’s doing? What if you think he’s creepy? 

Before he can back out, you’re already opening the door for him. You’re glad when you notice that it is him again. 

“You’re back,” you softly state.

Lando can only nod. 

“That’s great,” you tell him with a smile.

When he walks inside the room with you, he can’t stop focusing on the way your ass bounces every time you take a step. It’s making him even more aroused. When you take him towards the same sofa as last week, Lando lets you. He sits down and waits for the music to start. He waits for you to start dancing again. 

You position yourself on his lap. The music can start any minute, but before you want to do something else. Carefully you take Lando his hands into your own. You place them on your own body. Lando is quick to show you a confused look. 

“Don’t make it inappropriate,” you joke, but there’s a truth hiding into your words. Lando nods quickly. He doesn’t move his hands. The feeling of your soft skin underneath his hands is already enough for him. Softly he holds your waist, waiting for you to continue.

Then the music starts. Lando loses himself in your moves, but he makes sure that his hands stay on your waist. It surprises you. When you’re done a few minutes later, Lando has many questions for you but has no idea with which one he should start. Eventually he asks you the worst one.

“Why?”

He doesn’t need to explain himself, you know what he’s asking. 

“Money,” you answer as if it’s the only possible answer. For you it is. 

Lando grabs his wallet, doesn’t think about his next movements and gets all the cash he has out of it. He gives you all of it. You don’t know what to say or do. Thankfully you accept it.

“Take the rest of the week off please,” Lando softly asks you. Then the lights in the room are going on again. It’s your sign to leave. You do however nod at Lando his question. 

“Next week, same time?” You ask Lando jokingly before leaving the room. This time it’s Lando who shows you a nod.

You’re boss is ready to kill you when you tell him you’ll only work on Tuesdays from now on. Lando his money is maybe not enough to make such a decision, but you’re sure about yourself. You’ll manage. 

the fourth time at the stripclub

Every Tuesday he’s here again. Always at the beginning of the night. He’s the first one to book you for a lapdance. He’s also the only one you agree to. You guess that he pays your boss good money, because the guy doesn’t even complain anymore if you deny other guests. 

Last weeks you have gotten to know Lando better. Conversations are still small and awkward, but you have the idea that you’re getting somewhere with Lando. Before you always went to the stripclub because ‘you had to’, now you’re looking forward it. Lando changed things for you. Even the dance you perform for everyone is almost nice now. You love the feeling of Lando watching you. It even makes you feel kinda aroused. 

Sometimes you can’t stop staring at Lando when you’re dancing in front of the crowd. It’s insane how he makes you feel. Is it weird that it almost feels like you’re crushing on him? That must be weird.

“Babygirl,” Lando greets you happily when you walk into the room. You’re quick to greet him back and give him a small hug. Lando smiles at you. He can safely say that Tuesday has become the favorite day of his week. Sometimes he thinks about coming more often, but he barely can. His schedule is busy and there are a lot of races. It may be only Tuesday that he sees you and he doesn’t even speak to you for a long time, but he really likes it. Maybe he can even say that he likes you. Not that he’s surprised about that, it was pretty clear after the impact you made on him the first time.

Slowly you move your body over Lando. You let your ass grind on his cock. Lando feels it hardening underneath your touch. Things feel different today. It almost seems like you’re doing even more then the other times. You make sure that with every move, you make contact with his crotch. Shaking your ass as sensual as you can.

When you turn around and take place on Lando his lap, he lets out a moan. Normally he has to take care of himself after what you’re doing to him, but this time he already starts to feel close to an orgasm. You grind yourself on his lap. It makes him insane. When you grab Lando his head and softly move it to your neck, the hint is clear. Lando let himself explore your neck and shoulders. He presses soft kisses against it.

It seems like you want him to enjoy things even more. His hand, which was earlier sneaked around your waist, is now in your hand and on it’s way to a new location. Lando lets out his hardest moan so far when he feels your boob in his hand. Carefully he moves his hand underneath your bralette. 

“Can I?” Lando asks you just to be sure. 

“Yes please,” you’re quick to reply.

That is everything it takes for Lando to start exploring your breasts. You let him know that he can use his other hand was well. He’s quick to do so. Softly he kneads your boobs. It earns him a soft moan from you. Something that only motivates him to continue his movements. He gives one of your nipples a soft pinch, it causes you to let out another moan. 

When the music ends, the two of you don’t even notice. Lando is focused on you. Your focused on Lando and his touch. It’s a loud knock on the door that brings the two back of you back to reality. You know it’s one of the security guards, who’s telling you that the time is up. 

Fuck. You think it, Lando says it. 

“Fuck,” Lando mutters. 

“It’s more for extra time,” you softly tell Lando. 

“Since when do you do extra time?” Lando asks you, referring back to his first meeting with you in which you told him that time’s up means time’s up. 

“Do you want to masturbate or do you want me to help you out?” You ask Lando. 

It’s almost unrealistic how hurried Lando gets to the door. He’s quick to open it, put some money in the worker his hands and slams it close again. Now he can only hope that he didn’t hear you wrong. 

He’s rather quick to find out that he heard you correctly. You’re dropped to your knees and sitting in front of him. When Lando was talking with the security member, you appeared to pull off your bralette. Lando can’t stop looking at your boobs. Since when is he this easily affected by only boobs? Lando almost feels ashamed for himself. He feels like a teenage boy.

You help him to undo his belt in the mean time. Lando pulls down his pants. His boxer stays on - for now he guesses. You press a soft kiss on his member through his underwear. Then you take it in your hand. His boxer doesn’t stop you from stroking his boner. Lando is quick to let out a couple moans caused by your movements. 

It’s the first time you’re doing something like this in the club. You know that other girls use this as a way to make even more money. Crazy enough, this isn’t about the money. You really want to make Lando feel good right now. 

He might have felt like a teenager before, but when Lando feels himself getting so close that he’s about to cum in his underwear - he really thinks he’s acting like one. 

“Fuck y/n,” Lando moans when his orgasm hits him. 

You can only smile proudly when you feel the wetness coming through his boxers.

the seventh time at the stripclub

You’re always happy when it’s Tuesday and you’re waiting for Lando again. After the first time you helped him getting off, things have changed between you two. You might not have kissed yet or have sex, but his dick has been in your hand and mouth a couple times now. It’s even arousing for you as for him. 

“Hey,” you greet Lando enthusiastically when you walk into the small room and see him sitting already. Lando shows you a small smile while greeting you back. His tone is less enthusiastic then normally. You wonder what’s going on. There’s barely time to figure that out. The music is already starting and you move yourself around Lando.

“You don’t have to,” Lando tells you. Confused you back out a bit and look at Lando. There’s something wrong, but you can’t figure it out. Lando does however pulls you closer towards himself and positions you on his lap. It’s nothing new that he touches you. Since the second time you danced for him, you allowed him to. 

“What’s wrong?” You eventually ask Lando. He even seems sad how longer you look at him. 

“I won’t be coming for a couple weeks,” Lando explains, “I guess three weeks?” 

“Oh?” You’re quick to match Lando his disappointed voice. Why isn’t he coming the next couple weeks? You wonder if it’s something you did. What if he’s never coming back again? 

Lando quickly notices you disappointed look. Is it bad that he kinda likes it? Not that he wants to disappoint you, but he’s glad that he isn’t the only one who doesn’t like this. Maybe he can finally state that there’s something more going on between the two of you. 

“It’s the triple header princess,” Lando explains to you, “After that I’ll be all over you again.” 

“Deal?” You jokingly ask.

“Deal.”

The music has come to end end in the mean time. You hear the last tones fade away. It means you have to leave this room, but you don’t want to. Lando doesn’t remove his hands from your body as well. You can’t look away from him. Then Lando does something unusual. He softly grabs you chin and gets your face closer to his own. 

“Can I?” Lando asks you. 

You can only nod. Then you notice Lando coming even closer. His eyes are pretty from this close. You notice all kind of stuff. If you wanted to, you could count the small freckles on his face. But Lando is quick to snatch away your attention. Softly he presses his lips onto yours. 

It feels good. Almost too good. You know that you’ve never kissed with someone like this before. Lando seems to be careful with you, something else then your used to from exes. Lando is enjoying it too. He can’t seem to pull back anymore. If it’s up to him, he stays like this for the rest of the night. And maybe longer. 

When you slowly pull back from Lando, he’s quick to send you a questioning look. “The time,” you softly whisper. Lando nods understandingly. 

“I’ll see you when I’m back,” Lando tells you.

Before you can anything, Lando adds something else.

“I promise babygirl.” 

“I already can’t wait for you to come back,” you confess. 

That causes Lando to press another soft kiss against your lips. 

the eight time at the stripclub

It’s Sunday night. Lando couldn’t stop himself. After his race he barely made time for the press and the debrief from his team. He could only focus on getting home. Or better said, getting back to you. Last three weeks have been killing him. Every time he had a moment free, he could only think about you. And not in the way your body feels on his own, or about your magical hands and mouth that make him cum as if he’s a teenage boy experiencing his first orgasm. No, he can’t stopt thinking about how he feels while he’s with you. 

Now that he thinks back at it, his friends did find the solution for his bad mood when they took him to the stripclub. They might have thought that it was because the activity, but they brought him to you. 

Lando is pretty sure about his feelings for you. He thought about telling you about them when he saw you the last time, but he didn’t dare to. Now however, he’s sure that he needs to tell you. He needs to get you away from that terrible strip club for the rest of your live, so you can be his. 

When he walks into the stripclub he’s quick to try to book you for a lapdance later tonight. It annoys him when he hears you aren’t taking those tonight. Lando is quick to wonder if you’re already booked? Fuck. He barely thinks about things like that because it makes him so upset every time. He knows you’re a stripper. Other guys have seen your body barely clothed, maybe you even gave lap dances to other guys - maybe you’re doing that right now. Lando tries to shake off the terrible thoughts. He needs you to be his.

Only his.

In the mean time you’re making yourself ready for a night as bottle girl. It isn’t your normal job. Normally you don’t even work on this day. But, because you needed a favor from your boss for upcoming Tuesday you had to do this in return. You have decided that it’s one of the last times. The favor you needed was the small room for the same amount of money Lando pays normally, but then for the whole night. It’s the last time you plan to be here. You need to tell Lando about your feelings, then you need to quit and watch how things will go.

The only reason you kept the job for this long, is because of Lando.

When you walk outside the dressing room and start to waitress for your first table, you’re quick to feel annoyed. You boss coupled you at the worst table. It’s one of the tables that has the highest price, which causes the guests to think everything is about them. 

Lando looks around and wonders if you’re even working tonight. He doesn’t know your schedule. He doesn’t even know your phone number. Why didn’t he ask for that before? He doesn’t take a seat, he keeps looking around in hope to find you. 

It doesn’t take longer then ten minutes before one of the guests from your table starts to act inappropriate. “I believe you can make those other tables wait for a moment,” the guest tells you while gesturing you to take a seat next to him. You softly sigh but give him what he wants. In no time his arm has found a place on your shoulder. It makes you uncomfortable. You want to stand up and leave again, but the guy holds you on your place.

“Maybe you can give me a lapdance princess?” The guy asks you. The nickname annoys you. It feels wrong. You start to miss Lando even more. “I’ll pay you a lot for it,” he whispers as if it’s a secret. You try to deny him, but he has already pulled you until his own lap. You squirm while trying to get away from him, but the guy only likes that more. 

Lando realizes that he has gotten in a more private area from the stripclub by now. He has never seen this part before. It seems more luxurious then the rest of the place. He guesses this is for the guys who spend a lot of money here. Not for someone like him, who’s only spending money because he fell for one of the girls. He walks around, but doesn’t suspect to find you here. 

Then he sees you. It seems like you’re sitting on some other guys lap. Lando doesn’t even notice the look of discomfort on your face at first. He can only think about getting you away from there. This will sound crazy and way too possessive, but he needs to figure out a way to get you to quit from this awful job. He needs to find a way to make you his.

One of the guys on the table is the first one who notices Lando. “Hey Lando!” He yells enthusiastically, “Come join us.”

It’s that moment that you notice Lando as well. You try to get off the lap from the guy, but he still has a firm grip on you. He doesn’t let you go. Lando notices it. He even starts to notice the uncomfortable way you’re sitting and the annoyed look on your face. He can barely withhold himself from calling you one of his typical nicknames or your own name.

“Come here,” he instructs you as polite as he can manage, “You’re forgetting about my table. Everyone is thirsty.” He is lying and he can only hope that everyone will fall for it. The guy seems distracted and you use the moment to get out of his grip. Quickly you stand up and walk towards Lando. You’re so happy with him right now that you can kiss him. 

Not that you don’t want or can’t do that any other moment.

Lando doesn’t think anymore. He feels your presence next to himself. It makes him glad. The jealousy that has builded up in his chest seems to get a bit smaller again. He does however manage to instruct you something else.

“Tell your boss that you’re quitting and then meet me at the entrance.”

You can only nod at Lando his instructions. He seems a bit mad, but you aren’t sure if he’s mad at you, those guys, your boss or someone else. His jaw is slacked and a fierce gaze is found in his eyes. He looks when you walk to your boss, he notices the way the man his face falls flat - probably because he won’t get Lando his money anymore and then he sees you turning around again. That’s his sign to get to the entrance. 

When he sees you coming towards him a bit later, Lando is quick to grab your hand. “You’re coming home with me,” he tells you. You can only nod.

the first time at Lando’s place

“Fuck,” Lando curses, “The things you’re doing to me.” His lips are dragging on your neck. The elevator ride seems to be never ending. Lando his hands are all over you. “It’s unfair how fucking beautiful you are,” Lando continues, “Need to feel every part of you.” 

You’re thankful when the elevator reaches the right floor. Lando doesn’t give you the chance to walk for yourself. He picks you up and walks with you to his own apartment. Within the first seconds that you’re inside, Lando is already walking towards his bedroom. He drops you softly on his bed and hoovers above you. 

“Lan,” you softly moan when he softly sucks on the skin by your neck. 

He moves and presses his lips on yours. The kiss isn’t soft. It’s hard, rough and shows you exactly  how much he has missed you lately. His tongue is fighting with yours for dominance, something he wins in only seconds. Lando lets out a soft groan when he releases himself from you. 

“You’re mine,” Lando grunts. He almost says sorry after saying that. An ashamed feeling starts to creep up on his chest. But when he hears a soft moan leaving your mouth, he starts to feel less nervous about his remark. “Yours,” you even tell him with a soft voice. 

“Yeah?” Lando asks you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right. In the mean time he focusses on getting you out of your clothes. Not that you’re wearing many. 

“Yes,” you confirm. 

Lando pulls you on top of himself. “I want you to dance like normally,” he instructs you, “I want to feel your naked body on mine while you do so.” You’re fast to remove his clothes as well. All your clothes have piled up on the bedroom floor. Lando lets out a soft moan while he feels you grinding on his dick. 

“Feels even better like this princess,” he moans. 

“You know,” you softly say, “I was earning a favor from my boss tonight. Had planned a whole thing for you this Tuesday.” 

“Oh?”

“Yes,” you admit, “We had the room for ourself for the whole night. After that I was planning to quit.”

“Was it a goodbye for me?” Lando asks you confused. You lower your body. Softly you grab Lando his boner. You align it with your entrance before lowering your body even more. When Lando his dick enters your cunt, you let out a hard moan. Lando moans as well, but he keeps waiting for your answer. Were you going to say bye to him? Forever?

“It was not,” you confess, “I hoped it was a hello for our new life together.”

Your words silence Lando for a bit. He has no idea what to say. You slow down with your movements. Lando keeps thinking. Does this mean what he thinks it does? You like him? You what to explore those feelings for him? 

“I like you babygirl,” Lando confesses, “I really do.”

You increase your pace. Riding on Lando his dick while confessing how much you like him too. “You’re made for me,” Lando moans while he feels close to his orgasm, “Fucking made for only me.”

In only minutes the two of you focus on the way your orgasm hit. Lando groans. You let out a self yelp. Lando shows you a small smile, you return it. 

“You do realize that you’re my girlfriend now, right?” Lando asks you jokingly. 

“Duh,” you reply with the same jokingly tone. 

Lando presses his body close against yours. In some weird way he can’t wait to tell everyone about you. He’s never leaving you again for three fucking weeks. It’s only the conversations with his friends who were here with him the first night will be a bit different. But he doesn’t care about things like that. He can’t wait to show you the world. 

Lando presses a soft kiss against your cheek. “But, you can’t forget how to dance like this,” Lando tells you, “You really need to keep doing this to me.”

“Idiot,” you laugh.

“Maybe you need to practice again?”

Lando has your on top of himself in no time again. 

a/n: a small smutty one shot for you guys :)) for now i'll focus on my mini serie 'the roommate' again, but you can always send requests xx

[nientedal]

What progress at home has biden enacted? What policies of his show that he is making progress that prove he is actually different than trump?

I like to pretend I have faith in humanity, so I'll answer as if you're asking this in good faith.

Biden's DEA has lifted restrictions on telehealth prescriptions to make appointments and assistance more accessible.

He put a funding package into place to help unhoused people get access to mental and physical healthcare, as well as short-term and long-term housing.

He has attempted and is still attempting to get student debt relief through - this was blocked by Republican judges appointed by Trump, but he's still working on it.

Infrastructure repair - his administration has budgeted funds to actually fix some severely-damaged and frequently-traveled bridges.

Trying to expand access to healthcare to include undocumented immigrants who came to the USA as children (Dreamers) under the Affordable Care Act. Support for Navigator programs and outreach has also been increased.

He has vetoed Republican-led bills that were attempting to overturn environmental protections - one that would have forbidden investment fund managers to consider climate change in their portfolios (I have two degrees in accounting and this is actually huge), and another that would have overturned restrictions on agricultural runoff into our waterways.

He and his administration worked for ages to get rail workers paid sick days.

This is just some of what he's been doing. Meanwhile, Trump and other Republicans want to criminalize the lives of LGBT people like you and me. They want to eliminate no-fault divorce and force births that will kill parents or devastate them financially. They have stated flat out that they want to install a military dictatorship in the USA. They attempted to put that in motion on January 6th, 2021. They failed once. They will do better next time.

One party wants to house the homeless and expand social safety nets, while the other one wants to criminalize homelessness. One of them wants a future in which I might be able to vote to change how much of a war machine my country is, while the other one wants to eliminate my ability to vote entirely. Those are not the same. Those literally are opposites.

At the end of the day, all you and I can do is choose to do the least amount of harm possible. You and I cannot choose to do no harm. This is the USA, we sell war, you and I cannot choose to do no harm. I wish we could, my god do I wish we could, but that is not an option. So we grieve for the harm we couldn't eliminate and work to minimize the harm that is done. Despite all the crap they support, Democrats are the minimum amount of harm right now. Acting like they aren't is exactly what brought us to an election where our options are a future where we are either wading in blood or drowning in it.

Not voting for Biden will not help Palestine. Not voting for Biden will guarantee a Republican president who will make the situation in Palestine WORSE. AND it'll hurt a lot of other places as well, both at home and abroad, because Republicans are about business and the USA is in the business of war! And I would very much like that to change someday! I would very much like to someday be able to choose to do no harm! And I know what I have to do to try for that future, so what are YOU going to do? There is no standing off to the side in this. If you aren't helping pull, you're the dead weight we're pulling. Are you going to dig your feet into the mud and blood and drown us there? Or are you going to get the fuck off your ass, grit your teeth, and help us pull free?

[nariism]

another sunny day — i. rin

handcuffed together + matchmaking gone wrong

synopsis. rin doesn't get how his "friends" can come up with such insane ideas. like, seriously. or: blue lock tries to play matchmaker with a flustered loser and their terribly unfriendly teammate.

wc. ~1.1k

— for @jenoutof10 🤞 | event masterlist ✉️

"don't be mad, but..."

rin's eye twitches.

4 words. 4 measly words is all it takes for his blood pressure to start rising. that, and the fact that isagi can't meet his bloodthirsty gaze.

in all the time that he's had the displeasure of knowing these morons, he's come to know one simple fact: nothing good ever happens when they break news starting with 'don't be mad'.

before his teammates can even get a chance to explain further, rin interjects.

"you lost it, didn't you? you fucking lost it."

bachira's lips just press into a thin line, mischief missing from his expression where it usually permanently dances. now, he just looks utterly terrified and a little guilty.

"hey, but there are worse people to be cuffed to!" bachira nervously states. and at that, all eyes land on you.

you'd been hoping that maybe rin's temperment would have drawn all attention away from you right now—that they at least wouldn't have to witness the absolute despair in your face realizing you've been cuffed to your long-term crush for an indefinite amount of time.

but their eyes are heavy on you, trying to scrutinize your reaction. you want nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

the chains connecting you jingle impossibly loud as silence fills the room. you flounder slightly, caught off guard by the collective weight of everyone's eyes, and rin seems to understand how dire your situation is. he quickly gathers everyone's attention back to himself.

"you all better crawl on your hands and knees until you find that fucking key."

to think that an entire group of people could have gone through with something so stupid—rin doesn't get how his "friends" can come up with such insane ideas. like, seriously. handcuffing the two of you together as a last ditch attempt to solve the last puzzle of their escape room? he would probably be laughing at their idiocy if he wasn't the one locked to your side right now.

and why him, of all people? was it so obvious that he was maybe, kind of, sort of a little into you? no, impossible. he's incredibly good at hiding his feelings for you, so much that he's completely stone-faced while you're busy panicking beside him.

what should have been an innocent team-building exercise put together by their calm and collected manager has suddenly turned you into a blithering fool and him into a cranky asshole.

he'd always had suspicions that you'd liked him, never able to look him straight in the eye without fidgeting and messaging him out of the blue for seemingly insignificant reasons. ("did you try the new garigari-kun flavour?" or "i saw this cat that reminded me of you," and even "did you eat dinner yet?")

if you had told his teammates, you made a grave error. a fatal mistake. because they were all half-wits who would want nothing more than to try playing cupid, and he knows that only they could come up with a plan so stupid and still claim it to be foolproof.

frantically searching for the key, they get to work scouring the floor and drawers—anywhere they could have left it in the last twenty minutes. he takes the opportunity to focus on his breathing, as his therapist had advised him to do when he was feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

"you okay?" rin asks quietly, lathering a hand down his face in exasperation. you hum nervously, clutching yourself instinctively. it draws his hand closer to your body but he doesn't mention it, instead letting it dangle limply in front of you. the warmth emanating from you makes him realize just how frazzled you are.

he decides he should guide you to the next room where it's quieter, all the puzzles already solved and abandoned. he sits you down on the sofa, standing in front of you with your hands connected in the middle.

"what if we're locked together forever?" you murmur.

rin looks at you in confusion, perplexed by your sudden loss of functioning brain cells. you were always so rational, it's strange to see you so...

you meet his intense stare and the rest of his train of thought derails into a disastrous dumpster fire.

"i... don't think that'll happen."

"but what if we are?"

"there are worse people i could be locked to."

silence suffocates you. rin blinks at you, but doesn't back down as you fumble over your own tongue.

"you think so?" you finally manage out.

god almighty, you need to break this eye contact before he shrivels up and dies. okay, so maybe his feelings for you aren't entirely miniscule, but that doesn't mean he's going to get any enjoyment out of this.

he scoffs, gesturing to the next room. "at least it's you and not them."

you sputter in embarrassment, hand yanking toward your face as you try and cover your cheeks with your palms. his hand follows, nearly smacking you in the nose but you don't seem to care or even notice.

he slowly seats himself beside you, dragging your conjoined hands back between your bodies and settling on the couch.

"i hate this," you admit. "it feels claustrophobic."

rin knows exactly what you mean. your hand is inches away from being in his—he can hardly breathe. he would rather eat natto every day for the rest of his life than come to terms with that, though, so instead he just sneers at you funny.

"you have claustrophobia?"

"i just mean that we're so close right now."

"so?"

you gulp loudly. "and—" you sigh, breaths shaking. "well, you're sort of right. i guess it could be worse."

"...you're weird," he tells you.

your lips quirk up into a tiny smile, so small that he would have missed it if he weren't chained to your side right now. for a moment, he almost forgets all about why he's even in this situation in the first place.

"sorry," you stammer, fingers fumbling around with the hem of your sweater. "i hope they find that key soon."

he stares at you for a few more seconds, tries to trace the outline of your face with his eyes and memorize the curve of your smile.

"yeah," he lies. "me too."

("is it working?"

"i don't know, i can't hear them!"

"shh," chigiri hisses. "i'm trying to listen!"

rin puts his head into his hands at their volume, bringing your hand along with his motion. he glares in their direction, catching a glimpse of his team stacked on top of each other as they peer into the room.

"idiots..." he mutters. you look at him, puzzled. "i'm surrounded by idiots.")

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[tonkatsubowl]

truth to be told, it takes a lot for aventurine to fully trust someone, let alone loving them.

the man had already lost so much, including his own sense of self. to be stabbed in his back, to be betrayed, to be mocked and used and made fun of—he was used to it. it would take aventurine a while for him to feel comfortable being vulnerable with someone, considering he didn't trust anyone in particular.

though the man wore a gorgeous smile, wandering through the streets of penacony, it wasn't a genuine smile, but a mask he put up. expensive clothing, his beautiful countenance and the abundance of money he liked to toss around... it was just a mask he put up. it was also for the sake of his own reputation, too. especially when you were directly under diamond herself.

the main suspect of his suffering. and the cause of his success. a double edged sword that he walked upon. his own life was theirs. a mere toy, a mere chess piece to gamble with.

...but when he met you, he was confused. afraid, even. but he put up a fake smile, some flirtatious words here and there, but the man did not trust you, nor did he believe you would be willing to stay by his side for an eternity for aeons know what.

when he met you, you were kind, understanding. you were a little stubborn, too, and humorous. you never failed to have aventurine laugh at your cute little jokes, and you never failed to protect him, whether it was against the ipc's mocking him in his name, or against nightmare infested monsters that dared to consume his flesh within a dream.

he was terrified of you.

he didn't know what you were doing to him.

every time he saw you, he felt... weak. vulnerable around you. and he hated it. he loathed it. he hated everything about how you were making him feel, as though you were a curse that came to haunt him due to the sins of his past.

every time he saw you, his heart began to palpitate, his chest aching. and it got worse whenever he saw you so happy with someone else. but... maybe you were better off with someone? everyone kept leaving him, after all, whether it was death or it was simply due to some gambling... game-thing. a business transaction, even.

but you stayed.

you stayed throughout the hardships he faced.

why?

just why?

why, of all people, did you want to stay with him? a once upon a time slave, now a business man specializing in manipulation, gambling (an addiction, to put it), and flirtatious words to soothe the mind so he could win his way.

even through everything, you were still here. that was when he decided to seek out a certain doctor.

he sat across from him, forcing a smile across his lips, but the doctor could see it. the mask that aventurine donned himself with.

"you're in love."

aventurine's eyes looked up to the other, "you must be misreading your books like usual."

"you came here... to me, for your thoughts."

aventurine chuckled to himself, nervously, even.

"love? i haven't heard that word in ages."

"it is a complicated thing. especially with how you can be, gambler. a man who is unpredictable, keen to the eye, and... well, unfamiliar with the positive things."

aventurine cleared his throat, toying with the golden coin in his hand. he purses his lips, his mask wearing off for a moment.

"...now, dr. ratio, i am not doubting your knowledge and intelligence, don't get me wrong. i just don't believe that it truly is such a strange thing called... love."

the genius sighed, "you complained to me the other day that you couldn't stand seeing (y/n) talking to others, smiling and laughing. i recall that i was not assigned to be your therapist, here. the rest should be obvious, but it appears you're too stubborn to catch on... or rather, you're unfamiliar with this feeling. this term. love."

bullseye. it was as though ratio had called him out completely. for once, the gambler was silent. here, he would try to make little comments here and there, some jokes there and wherever but... the man was actually silent.

"... what do you suggest i do, then?"

dr ratio leans in, resting both elbows on his knees, eyes fixated on the gambler's own pristine eyes.

"if you are comfortable with it, move at your own pace if you wish to pursue. this is ultimately your choice. you can pursue these feelings, or you may leave it. there is no right or wrong answer, here. this all depends on you and what you wish to do. love is about being vulnerable with each other. accepting each other at their lowest. being for one another. your lover is considered to be your number one companion, truthfully."

aventurine was quiet.

"what is your gambler's intuition?"

a sigh left aventurine's lips. he stood, flipping the coin in his hand, before showing the result of heads or tails.

"...i suppose i'll make a bet with myself. one that doesn't cost money or the finest of gold and jewelry."

the genius watched as the other male got up from his seat, retrieving his sunglasses from his expensive outfit, before placing them on. "i'll make a gamble, to be specific, about this."

"then i wish you the best of luck, aventurine."

months had past, and the two of you were already in a relationship. it had been months, but the man didn't dare to tell you, 'i love you' just yet. as a matter of fact, those words were terrifying for him. what if he lost you after he said that? what if something were to happen to you? he was terrified of saying it, as he wasn't ready yet.

dr. ratio was right—he was paranoid to the bone but hid it. yet, aventurine played a few cards and decided to gamble this relationship with you, to see if it could work out. and so far, everything was well.

you were understanding, kind, beautiful, patient... the perfect partner someone could ask for.

but it also felt undeserving.

did... he deserve this love? did he truly deserve to experience the harmony that his heart fluttered to? he began to doubt. then he spiraled into a panic.

he began to sleep restlessly at night, rendering himself vulnerable to nightmares and the instability of his mind.

... but you were there, throughout all of it.

his eyes shot open, the familiar warmth of your hand gently cupped at his left cheek. he had fallen asleep on the couch, reading a long text presented to him by his supervisor, which was mainly just work and business related things. he didn't realize he had fallen asleep, and at first was confused when he woke up.

his phone was placed securely on the table, and there was a blanket draped over him. the air conditioning was turned on for his comfort, and before him was a tray full of biscuits, tea... for him to savor in once he woke from his nightmare.

"are you... alright?" you asked. "you were having a bad dream."

his eyes traveled to your voice, finding your concerned expression, his palpitating heart now steadying at an easy rate. he began to breathe, his eyes softening.

you were here, at his most vulnerable state, concerned for his well-being. he was silent, but he immediately reeled you in for a gentle hug. he was reluctant, but he wanted to feel the rest of your warmth. your head was buried into his chest, and you could hear his heart slow down. he closed his eyes, calming down from his inner demons.

"...you're okay." you murmur, brushing the top of his hair with your hands. "i'm here for you."

you didn't know much about him at all, truth to be told. the man wasn't really comfortable sharing his past with you, yet. he was a locked chest, and in order to find the key to his past, you had to be patient. time was key, but whatever demons he was facing at night... he knew you would be there.

he had doubts, at first, and always believed that he'd always be alone.

but... you were a different story.

"...thank you," he whispers onto your ear, cradling you close to his chest, "for being here."

your gaze softens, and you were silent for a moment. this was the first time you've seen aventurine like this. so vulnerable, so... reliant on you. but you were okay. because everyone has their own weakness. not everyone was perfect, and you understood that.

"... don't thank me." you say, closing your eyes, taking in his scent as the two of you nuzzled up against each other on the couch, "please don't. it's my job—my duty, as your other half, to be here for you."

dr. ratio's words echoed into his brain, reminding him of what love truly is. being there for one another, no matter what.

"you haven't been here?"

months past, and aventurine is presenting a beautiful, scenic view of penacony for you. the night sky was phenomenal, and the beautiful sounds of crickets and late night critters were no more than music to your ears. you seat yourself at the bench, whilst the gambler was walking around, admiring the view... taking pictures, even.

"i haven't, but now i am." you say, flashing a smile.

aventurine took some time off today to take you out on a date. the man had more than enough sick and vacation leave to do this for you, and it's the first time where he actually used it.

he sits next to you, admiring the night sky, and the sight of you above all else.

"it's a beautiful sight. i come here when i want to... relax."

your gaze softens, and your hand comes towards his own. digits intertwine, and you murmur something, audible for your lover's ears.

"thank you for taking me here. to your safe place."

aventurine looks over to you, puzzled.

"... safe place, huh? didn't expect to... call it that. but i guess that's what you can say for this spot. i can feel at peace here." he nods slowly, looking back to the scenic view.

"... it's a spot where you can feel vulnerable and be okay with it," you say, instantly catching his attention, "and i want to thank you for trusting me to bringing me here. i really, really do appreciate it."

ratio's words echo through his mind once more, the pad of his thumb suddenly reaching over, gently lifting your chin. he leans in, granting you a subtle kiss, in which you've returned.

"... may... i be vulnerable, once again?"

he lowered his guard, his voice coming to a whisper.

"you... can always be vulnerable around me. i want to be your safe person." you respond, in a whisper.

"..." he was silent. "i love you."

it was the first time, too, that he said such a thing to you. such strong words that let your heart skip a few beats. your face comes to a faint, vermillion flush, but you were happy nonetheless. you smile, cupping each side of his face.

"i love you too."

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (33/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The first encounter after.

Warnings: angst, some fluff

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: kisses to all of you. I love you so much. feedback is appreciated!

Although Raphael stood outside your front door in the middle of the night the other night, shouting in the hallway and insulting you, tonight was a lot worse. 

You lay awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling in the hope that the explanation for Charles' behavior was written up there. But the only thing you could see was the moonlight shining gently through the window, right on the empty side of the bed. 

It felt wrong to lie here alone and have the whole mattress to yourself. You lay as close to the edge of your side of the bed as you could, trying not to breathe in Charles' scent still clinging to the sheets or feel the chill his absence left behind. In such a short time, you got so used to his closeness that you were so cold without it that you had to pull the comforter up to your chin. 

But none of this helped you fall asleep or think about anything other than the man you would have loved to have next to you, lying just a few meters away from you in the living room. 

You've admitted to yourself that you would do anything for Charles, that you want to be someone for him to hold onto when the ceiling falls in on him, or to push him to be better, even if it costs you your heart. Even though you both emphasized several times that you were just friends - best friends, even - you always carried that little piece of hope with you. And although there had been several moments that dampened the spark, it never fully went out. 

Until last night. 

Charles seems to have clearly drawn the line of friendship, which you had previously only drawn very gently with a pencil, in thick, dark black. 

"All I want from you is your friendship."

There's a huge difference between agreeing to a friendship and being told that it's the only thing you want from someone. Whether you push aside the sexual tension for the sake of friendship to protect it, or deny every possible scenario, every moment that was more than just friendship and act as if nothing ever happened. 

The distance you needed last night to come to terms with your feelings and the final rejection was to buy you time. Time to extinguish the spark of hope inside you and get rid of the ashes before the fire takes you over completely and destroys you. But Charles had taken your escape from bed upon himself. 

You could never feel uncomfortable in his presence. And you had wanted it too. You even wanted more than he gave you at that moment - much more. You would have given him everything without hesitation - you would have given yourself - if he had asked for it. 

You almost feel a little ashamed of how quickly you fell in love with him, especially since you closed yourself off from your feelings for so long and lied to yourself. For seven days, you blocked out the voice inside you that kept shouting hypocrite so that you wouldn't have to admit the truth. And now, when the tears have dried on your cheeks and you can think clearly again, you also know that it would have been smarter if you had listened to that voice.

You love Charles. The Charles who only wants your friendship and has unconsciously broken your heart, which you were supposed to protect.

And you want to keep it that way. You would never let him know what he has unintentionally done to you. Not because you don't want to give him the satisfaction - you're pretty sure he'd feel bad about hurting you like that - but because, firstly, you don't want his pity and, secondly, the truth that you love Charles would ruin your friendship. If Charles knew how you felt about him, he would no longer be able to see you as a friend, just as someone he can't give what they need. 

He shouldn't feel obliged to be friends with you.

You press your face into the pillow. How pathetic to love someone who wants nothing more than friendship from you. Someone who has opened their home to you and you have misinterpreted their every word, every moment and every touch. 

Not even when Raphael cheated on you did you feel as sorry for yourself as you did in this moment. Although your relationship has lasted longer, in none of the countless moments have you felt as strongly for him as you have for Charles for days. And although those few days were emotionally challenging and exhausting, and at times you would have loved to bang Charles' head against the wall or pull him into bed, they were so breathtaking and fantastic that nothing and no one would ever come close to Charles.

You smack your palm against your forehead. The chances that you would die alone increase with every moment that you hope that Charles might eventually return your feelings.

You need to get over these feelings, there's no doubt about it. Since you've both already established that you can't be without each other and it might hurt Charles if you were to end this friendship - "I don't think you realize how important your are to me" - there's no other option but to throw yourself fully into this friendship and erase this boundary you've been walking on. If there is no boundary, there is no beyond. Just friendship, nothing more and nothing less.

Before you can really think about whether the idea is as good as you think it is, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. According to the time on your cell phone, Charles could already be awake, so you shouldn't wake him as you walk down the hall to the bathroom. Besides, you can't hide in your room forever, so you decide to just get the first encounter over with. Come what may. 

As you pull a sweater, which you make sure is actually your own, over your head, you pause for a moment. Would it be weird if you were face to face? Would you even be able to get a word out? And if so, what would you say?

"I think it's good that we're going back to the beginning, where we didn't share a bed or touch each other. We should leave so much distance between us that outsiders would question whether we're even friends."

Definitely not. 

Of course you need to protect yourself and the distance that's been between you since last night certainly helps you get over your feelings, even if it's strictly speaking the last thing you want. But what you want most of all, what you desire and long for - you can't have that, unfortunately. 

If this friendship was the only thing you could get from Charles, you would gratefully accept it. Having a piece of him is still better than nothing.

You slip into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and fluffy socks before sticking your head out of the room. Although nothing can be heard, you leave the safety of your four walls and almost sprint towards the bathroom, where you brush your teeth and comb your hair. The dark circles you see in the mirror are the result of a sleepless night, so you try to conceal them a little, hoping that Charles won't recognize them and then realize how much his absence has kept you awake and bothered you.

Semi-satisfied, you enter the hallway and trudge towards the kitchen, passing the closed living room door. Apparently Charles is still asleep, which is why you quietly take boards and pans out of the cupboards in the kitchen to conjure up a decent breakfast on the table. Maybe that's your thing - trying to bypass strange conversations with a good breakfast, even if until today breakfast consisted of croissants and pain au chocolat.

As you dice two bell peppers and small tomatoes, you hear the living room door open. You look up from the chopping board in front of you and see Charles standing on the doorstep to the kitchen. 

"Good morning," you smile, hoping your smile looks as genuine as you imagine it does. "Would you like an omelette? The bell pepper and tomatoes are ready." Without waiting for an answer, you open the fridge and take some eggs out of the carton before placing them on the kitchen island next to the peppers. "I wanted to make you a coffee too, but I didn't know when you'd wake up and it would be a shame if it got cold."

Charles' gaze wanders from your face to the food in front of you before he looks at you in confusion. "Uh, yeah. Thanks." He scratches the back of his neck nervously before pointing weakly towards the bathroom. "I'm just going to freshen up. I'll be right back."

"I'm here," you say cheerfully, trying to ignore the fact that his hair is sticking out of his head in a disheveled mess and how ravishing it makes him look. "I'm not going anywhere."

As you hear the bathroom door slam shut, you exhale in relief. So far it's gone better than you expected, even though it's been less than ten sentences and you can't interpret Charles' confusion. Did he expect you to stay sadly holed up in your room and not dare to leave? Or was he confused because you were preparing breakfast for him?

Lost in thought, you fry his omelette in the hot pan and make coffee, which you place in a large cup on the counter in front of you. You serve the finished omelette on a plate as Charles returns to the kitchen. He hesitantly sits down opposite you and examines the meal in front of him. 

"Everything all right?" you ask him with a raised eyebrow, supporting yourself with your hands on the worktop. "Does it look that awful? I know I'm not a five-star chef, but I don't think it looks that bad."

Charles opens his eyes and shakes his head. "No, no! Everything's fine. It looks great." He picks up his knife and fork and smiles at you. "Thank you. I wasn't expecting that."

You wave it off before turning around and washing your hands in the sink. After all the thoughts you've had this morning, you've lost your appetite. "No problem. We live together and friends cook for each other." You know that's not what he meant, but you don't want to talk about last night. About his touch, his thigh between your legs, the look on his face when he told you he was going to sleep on the couch.

Charles clears his throat, but doesn't respond either. "How did you sleep?" he asks instead, before shoving a piece of egg into his mouth. 

You turn back to him. "Just fine," you lie, hoping that the concealer under your eyes is doing its job. "I was a bit cold, but I was fine. And you? How was the couch?"

Your roommate shrugs. "Definitely more comfortable than the one in the other apartment." He takes a sip of coffee. "But I'll still be glad when my bed arrives soon. I got an email saying it should be delivered in the next few days."

You look at him in confusion. " On Christmas?"

Charles shakes his head. "After Christmas. I think it's the day Lando invited you and me to party."

He doesn't even say it. The us. The idea that there could be more between you than friendship seems that absurd to him. You try not to let on how much this is affecting you. 

"Okay." You chew the inside of your cheek. "If you want to go partying with Lando, I can stay here if the bed hasn't been delivered yet," you offer. "Then you can have a nice evening."

Charles raises an eyebrow. "Why would you stay here when it's my bed?"

Maybe because you don't want to see Charles flirting with other women? Or even going home with them?

You shrug your shoulders. "I don't know how much you want to stay here and sit around waiting when you could go out partying with your friends. After all, you said yes to him."

Charles places his cutlery on the plate in front of him a little more firmly than necessary. "What's that supposed to mean? Don't you want to go out at all?"

"I didn't say that." You cross your arms in front of your chest. "I just offered. Because friends do each other favors." Because friends help each other.

"Then why do you want to stay here so badly?" he asks, annoyed. "Don't you want to spend the evening with us? Or rather, with me?" There is an angry glint in his eyes.

"I didn't say that!" you defend yourself. 

Charles gets up from his chair and circles the kitchen island before standing directly in front of you. "Why are you distancing yourself from me like that? Am I so awful that you don't even want to spend the evening with me anymore?"

Quite the opposite. You would love to cling to him and never let him go again. But the thought of seeing him with another woman makes you feel sick. But you can't tell him that, so you stare at him silently. You can feel tears stinging your eyes. 

"I'm sorry that you feel uncomfortable and I'll do everything I can to make sure this friendship doesn't go down the drain," he sighs softly. "If it means never touching you again, then that's what I'll do. If you want to go back to the beginning, then that's what I'll do. But please -" His voice is more of a plea than a request. "Please don't shut me out of your life. It may sound selfish of me, but I can't - please stay with me."

The angry glint in his eyes has gone out, instead you see tears flash and all you want to do is wrap your arms around him and hold him so tightly to you until neither of you can breathe and you would die a happy death because it would be in his arms. 

But you have to protect yourself, your heart, which is why you only smile slightly at him. "I told you." Your muscles ache, you have to restrain yourself so much from touching him and showing him that you're exactly where you want to be. "I'm not going anywhere." 

Charles breathes a sigh of relief and turns away briefly so you can't see him wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes before turning back to you. "All right then." He stands up straight in front of you and tries to play the tough guy, but his shaky voice betrays him. 

You look uncertainly at the plate still on the worktop. "Besides, I don't want to miss your mother's Christmas dinner. I think she'd haunt me and decapitate me if I didn't show up."

Charles laughs. "I'm afraid so, too."

You stand facing each other in silence for a moment until something occurs to you. "You said to your mother yesterday that we had a lot to do today. Was that serious or just a white lie so we could get home quicker?"

Charles bites his lower lip for a moment before reaching for his cell phone, which is lying next to the plate on the worktop. He presses the button on the side twice before sliding his finger across the screen. After a minute, he looks at you. "I meant that for real. I thought maybe you and I could do something today so you wouldn't lose your photography skills."

You give him a mock scowl, but can't help smiling. "And that would be?" He holds out his phone to you with the weather app open. The weather forecast for today is unusually good, almost twenty degrees. You look at him, confused. "Okay? And what does that mean?"

Charles puts his phone in the pocket of his black jogging bottoms. "I thought maybe you and I could go out on the boat. My fans haven't received any new pictures of me for a few days. Maybe you'd like to take some of me?" he suggests. 

You look at him, puzzled. "You really want me to take photos for your Instagram account? Your official Instagram account?" you ask skeptically. When he nods, you tilt your head. "What happened to 'I'm trying to protect you'? Have you thrown your principles overboard now?" 

"Was that pun intentional?"

"Maybe."

He rolls his eyes. "Listen. Kika has already tagged you in her pictures, so I think it would be fine if you took some of mine too. I don't necessarily have to tag you in them and push my luck. But you're good at what you do and Joris doesn't have time for me at the moment to take professional photos with me. And on the way to the harbor, I'll keep a low profile so that no one else sees you and me."

You purse your lips. "So I'm just your second choice, hm?"

He comes a little closer to you, but doesn't touch you. "You're always my first choice." His breath brushes over your face. "So, what do you say? Spend the day with me on a nice boat?"

"Depends," you reply, raising an eyebrow. "What's in it for me if I can't get any publicity from you?"

Charles has to grin. "There's a chef on the boat who will prepare anything you want."

You pretend to think for a moment before shaking your head. "Not good enough for me."

"There's a great bar where you can get drunk," he continues to offer, but again you wave his offer away. 

"Nope."

Charles takes a deep breath before running a hand through his hair and then leaning so elegantly against the kitchen island and leaning towards you that your heart skips a beat. "I'll let you steer the boat." As your grin widens and almost reaches your ears, it's obvious he's got you hooked. "So, would you like to spend the day on a boat with me, mon amo - ami?" he quickly corrects himself. 

You heard him anyway. And inside you wonder whether he calls all his female friends that. Maybe it's a habit he has that he's trying to break just for you. So that you don't feel uncomfortable, even though it triggers the complete opposite in you, which you try to ignore.

"As long as I'm allowed to steer the boat," you reply.

Charles' hand, which is hanging at his side, twitches briefly, as if he's trying hard not to lift it up and place it against your cheek.

"Deal."

[waves-against-a-cliff]

Where Soul Meets Body - Ghost x Reader

Ao3 Link

Content Warnings - afab!reader, no pronouns used, reader has a call sign, canon typical violence, ghost's past :(, angst, smut, fingering, oral, thigh riding, PiV, unprotected sex, happy ending. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary - Simon Riley has been your best friend since the two of you were five. You've been in love with him since you were 15. It's too bad life has other plans

WC: 18k

Big thanks to @shotmrmiller for helping me with the last chapter and big thanks to @itsagrimm for listening to my rambling about this since January. I'm so happy to see it written and finished.

Rainy days in the United Kingdom we're far from abnormal. Seeing the bright sun with no clouds obstruction was abnormal. Seeing someone without an umbrella, even a jacket, in the rain was more than abnormal to you. Who in the world would set out to school without a jacket or umbrella? You approach the strawberry blond boy and tentatively hold your umbrella over his head. "What are you doing without an umbrella?" You ask, head tilting ever so slightly at the boy looking up at you. Oh, he's from your class, what was his name again?

"I don't have one."

"Did your mum not buy you one?" There was a small silence but you smile, "Well it doesn't matter now, I'm here and we can share." You give him your name and get the smallest smile from him.

"I'm Simon Riley." Ah, that's right, Simon Riley.

"Well then Simon, let's get to school." The umbrella was hardly large enough for you to fit under but you held it over his head as the rain came down. It rained all day but that was okay because you and Simon sat together all day. "I'll walk home with you so you don't get wet." You say while playing another round of Sorry!.

"You don't need to." Simon mutters as he moves his piece, his brown eyes downcast. You frown, brows pinching together as you try to piece together the logic behind that statement.

"I don't need to but I want to." You respond with a toothy grin. "It's what friends do." You say with confidence as you draw a card.

"We're friends?" Simon asks, his eyes suddenly meeting yours.

"Of course. We're sharing an umbrella." You laugh and move your piece according to the card. "And when you get your own umbrella, we can be umbrella friends." He repeats the term umbrella friends as if testing the waters and then smiles. A smile suits him much better than a frown you decide. During lunch, you offer part of your sandwich when you realize how sad his packed lunch is. "Here, I'm full." A lie but he hardly had half of what your mum packed. He looked at the triangularly cut sandwich with apprehension. "Please eat it." He continues to stare at it before picking it up and taking a bite then looking at you. When he sees your smile, he keeps eating it. "You have very brown eyes." You suddenly comment, unable to keep it to yourself. "I like them."

Simon easily fit into the routine of your life, each day after school he would walk home with you on Fridays. Together the two of you would chatter about anything and everything, conversation flowing easily. Somedays were worse than others, like right now while you treated Simon's busted lip with a bag of cold peas pressing against his cheek. "I'll beat him up." You promise. He seems different these days, he had always been a bit timid before but any loud noise scared him. You don't ask what happened, you could see it in his eyes that he didn't want to talk about it. Those same eyes were always looking down all the time now too, you wish he wouldn't. You like to see his eyes.

"You can't beat up Tommy." He insists.

"He beat you up, I'm just returning the favor." You huff as you dab the blood away from his lip and hand him a bag of cold broccoli. The attic of your home had become a safe haven to him and the walls and ceiling were decorated in drawings that the two of you had created over the last two years. A plate of triangle sandwiches sat half eaten on the box-made-table. "I'll just punch him. Serve him right." You huff and cross your arms after throwing the wet rag in the corner. Books and half put away board games were scattered all around the little attic.

"Please don't." Simon begs, his brown eyes downcast again.

"Will it make you happy if I don't?" You ask, twisting your shirt and pulling at the loose thread. Simon nods and you sigh, pushing your hair from your face. "Fine then but you're staying the night." You declare.

"Don't you need to ask your mum and dad permission?" He asks.

"They'll say yes. They always do." It was true, there hadn't been a time your mum hadn't let Simon sleep over if you had asked. Simon tapped your arm and handed you a book from the pile.

"Out of your head, let's read." He says while giving a frail smile. When did his smiles get smaller? You take the book from his hand, you hope it'll make him happy. A knock on the attic door as your mum peaks her head up.

"Are you staying for dinner Simon?" You mum asks and you jump on the opportunity.

"Can Simon stay the night mum? Please." You draw out your please and put on your best puppy eyes. Your mum looks between you and Simon who still held the bag of broccoli against his mouth.

"Of course he can stay. Just be quiet after eight pm." Your mum disappears back down the ladder towards the kitchen while you turn to Simon with a victorious smile on your face.

"Told you so."

You knock rapidly on his home's front door, "Come on Riley! I'm not gonna stand out here all day waiting for you." You would, of course you would. Rain or shine, warm or hot. The door swung open and you scrunched up your nose when Tommy was standing in front of you. "You smell like a sewer rat." You remark, "Where's Simon?"

"Don't you ever shut up?" Tommy snapped, "Simon isn't your boyfriend."

"He doesn't need to be my boyfriend in order for me to ask where he is." You immediately respond. He snorts and rolls his eyes. Tommy, Simon's younger brother, had been teasing the two of you for years since the first time he saw you walk Simon home. "Simon!" You say, a smile immediately appearing on your face as he finally appears behind his brother. "Come on!" You push Tommy out of the way and grab Simon's hand. "I got my drivers license." You boast, "Dad's letting me drive his truck around whenever he doesn't need it."

It was a rare day in spring when it wasn't raining and you weren't gonna let it go to waste. The windows of the truck were rolled down and the wind blew through your hair. The city of Manchester slowly disappears, the loudness exchanged for the quiet of the countryside.

"Don't look so grumpy Simon." You say when you notice he had his head in his hand and a scowl on his face. "You're acting like I'm driving you to your death."

"With how you drive, I'm sure you are." He retorts, a small smile growing on his face as you bark out a laugh.

"Well we're almost there so your death won't be quiet so soon." You remark. You slow the truck down before pulling off into a dirt road and coming to a complete stop. You turn the truck off and tuck the keys into your pocket and grab the basket you brought from the back of the truck. You look at the fence blocking the way into the flower field before you toss the basket over the fence before you launching yourself over the fence. "Come on Simon, just jump it!"

"Isn't this illegal?"

"Only if you get caught." You laugh and wink before helping Simon over the fence. The field of flowers stretch far and bumblebees buzz around from flower to flower. You open the basket and lay out the thin blanket onto the ground. Lowering yourself onto the blanket and you motion for Simon to join you.

"What's all this then?" He asked with a brow raised as you began to pull out a few cans of coke, a couple of sandwiches and apples.

"Happy 15th birthday." You say with a grin, "I got your present back at my house but I figured you'd like it out here." Simon stares at you, brown eyes wide as he looks between you and all the food you somehow managed to pack into the basket. You shift a little his heavy gaze as anxiety crept up as your cheeks turned red. "Do you not like it?" You ask.

Simon looked at you before a lopsided grin grew on his face, "It's great. Thank you."

"What are you planning to do after school is over?" You ask after taking a sip from your coke. "I mean, we only have next year left. Are you going to attend University?"

"I'm gonna take a butcher's apprenticeship."

"What?"

"My grades aren't doing great and I figured why not." Simon shrugged, "Not like it's a bad idea." You punched his shoulder lightly and glared at him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were struggling Riley? You know I would have helped." The wind blows softly, the flowers and grass rustle, birds sing in the distance. "You're a smart man Simon, if this is what you want to do," You take a steadying breath, "then I'll support you."

Simon smiles at you, "You took it better then my mum did at least." He sighs and takes a bite from his apple.

"She just wants what's best for you." You say, softening your voice. If there was one thing you learned about Simon Riley after these five years, it's that he loves his mum more than anything. You lean against him, coke can still in hand as the silence blankets the space between you and him. After a few minutes of silently eating and drinking, he nudges you.

"Look." He whispers and points to a flower by his side. You lean over and a massive smile grows on your face as you spot a very tired bumblebee resting within a flower. You look at Simon and feel something within yourself turn on or maybe become louder as you see his soft gaze at the sleeping bee. Suddenly, you wanted him to look at you with that same soft expression.

"You know Daisy?" Simon asks one day while you were driving to the flower field. It had become a place to get away from school and home, away from all the stresses of life for at least a few hours. Daisy was a classmate in the same year, you had never been close with her but you had grown up with her the same as you had with Simon.

"Of course, Daisy Lockmon right?"

"Yeah." There's something in the way he says it that makes your heart clench. It's the softness of it, the fondness and the soft sigh, even the sort of dreamy look in his eyes you spot in the mirror as he gazes out into the countryside.

"Yeah?"

"I'm dating her. She asked me out a few days ago." Few days ago. Why did that sting so fucking much? You smile at him as you grip on the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white and your fingers go numb. It doesn't compare to the squeezing grip of whatever is holding your heart. No, you know who holds your heart and he doesn't even know it. It's my fault, I never told him. You try to reason with yourself but it doesn't stop the hurt.

"Congratulations then. Daisy is a sweet girl."

A few months later, you feel like you're going to throw up. You fight back any words threatening to come out of your mouth besides something good and kind because he doesn't deserve your anger or sadness. Simon doesn't know, you keep reminding yourself, you're just his best friend that he's confiding in. Just the person he's grown up with since ten years old, just the person who treated his busted lips, cuts and bruises. Just his best friend. Not the girl, not Daisy Lockmon who he thinks he loves. He probably does love her, you've never seen him look at someone the way he does Daisy.

You lay in the field, something that allows your stress to melt away, does nothing for you. Not as Simon lays next to you, not as you think about the times before all of this you could have said something. Simon says nothing, you say nothing and the two of you just watch the clouds float by. Simon sits up as he speaks, "I'm ready to leave, how about you?" Your heart clenches again, time in the field has been getting shorter and trips less frequent. You know it's not just because of his relationship and it's just how life is sometimes. He has his butcher's apprenticeship and you're studying for university classes but logic doesn't dictate emotion.

"In a moment, I'll catch up with you at the truck." You say, pasting on a smile. Simon shrugs and grunts as he gets up. You wait until you're sure he's already hopped the fence and heading towards the truck before you move over to his spot. Where the grass and flowers are flattened down into his shape, slowly you curl into the spot. For a moment, you imagined that you were the one he says he loves. For just a bittersweet moment, you pretend that you're his and he's yours.

"I'm joining the military." Your ceramic mug shatters on the floor. Just like that, everything comes crashing down. The world was still reeling from the twin towers attack in the United States, the sense of safety shattered in a terrorist attack.

"What?" That was the only word that could come from your mouth. You look at Simon with wide eyes, the cozy atmosphere of your flat turned cold. "You're joking. Right Simon?"

"I'm not."

"What about your apprenticeship Simon? You've been working as a butcher since you were 16. You're nearly done." The words come flying out of your mouth, "Simon-"

"I'm not asking you to understand my decision. I'm just telling you that I'm doing it and you can't stop me." You laugh bitterly and the sound is so foreign to both your ears and Simons.

"As if I could stop you Simon." You mutter, moving to grab a broom and dustpan to clean up the shattered mug on the floor. "But why? You've never once shown interest in joining the military." The answer is clear, its reason why many people were joining the military and you already know his answer before he opens his mouth.

"The attack in the US." Of course, he doesn't elaborate. "I'm being sent to bootcamp in two weeks."

"Two weeks? That's hardly any time at all." You sigh and sink down into your couch, putting your face in your hands as you try to process everything. "What about Daisy?"

"Broke up with her." He says so plainly and with a shrug of his shoulders. You have to bite your tongue to keep from saying something back handed. You're not petty, you're not petty, you're not petty, is the thought running through your head but you can't deny how good it feels to know he isn't dating her anymore. Not like you have much of a chance now since he's going off to bootcamp. "She said she didn't want to date a guy in the military. It's a deal breaker apparently." It's not for me you think quickly.

The day comes too quickly, for once you wished life would slow down and let you soak up Simon's presence in your life. It's not like he's dying, he's just going off to bootcamp and then he'll be back is what you think to keep yourself from falling apart. Nearly nine years of friendship, spending hardly any time or going a long distance away from one another, now Simon will be gone for 14 weeks. Then he'll be stationed somewhere for two to six years. You wrap your arms around him, squeezing him hard and burying your face into his jacket. "You be safe Simon Riley or I'll raise you from the dead."

He chuckles and pats your head, "Its bootcamp not an active war zone." You just shake your head and he wraps his arms around you. "But I'll be safe. I'll write to you every chance I get, I promise."

"Good."

"Simon?"

The last three years had passed quickly with the letters from Simon being the only rest stop between university studies and work. Grabbing your coat from the back, you sigh as you finally shut off the lights to the cafe you work at part time. With a small click, your work day was finally, finally over. You twist the lock on the cafe front door, struggling momentarily from your thick gloves. You turn to start walking towards your rather cheap flat and scream when you see a massive figure barely a foot away. The familiar voice hissing your name made the panic subside as quickly as it appeared.

"Glad to know you still have those pipes of yours." You look at Simon, he is barely illuminated by the street lights but you can still tell he's different now. He's no longer the slightly slender boy you knew three years ago. He wasn't slouching and made direct eye contact with you. You take him all in before you rush to him and wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his coat and drinking in his scent.

"Simon Riley," You whisper into his coat before pulling back to look up at him, "you've really grown. Come on, I'll let you crash at my place." He opens his mouth to argue but you're already pulling him along. You lead him to your flat, which isn't far away from your place of work thankfully. You kick off your shoes at the door and tell Simon to do the same. Placing a kettle on the stove to boil some water you then sit down and look at Simon. "So, what's brought you back here?" You ask.

Simon looks at you, drinking in your appearance. You look tired, worn down and ready to collapse. "I'm gonna fix my family." He finally answers after you cock your head to the side.

"You're... gonna fix your family?" You ask, leaning back as the words wash over you. Your heart hurt slightly for a reason you didn't want to understand, for a reason you didn't want to voice out loud or in your own head.

"Yes. And I'm not leaving until it is."

You purse your lips and get up to pour the boiling water into two cups. You put an earl gray tea bag with a splash of milk into the mug for Simon and a few cubes of sugar for your own cup of tea. You hand him the tea and sit back down as you continue to run through the implications of his choice. "Alright." You finally say. "You can crash at my place while you fix your family."

"You don't believe me." Simon states and you snap your head to look at him completely. "I know it sounds crazy but I'm stronger now. I can finally do what I've always wanted." He says between sips of his tea. "And I won't leave until it is fixed."

You sigh and set your cup down, "Fine." You get up and grab a piece of paper and a pen. You scribble down the addresses of Tommy's friends that he keeps couch surfing between before handing it to Simon. "This is what I know about Tommy. You'll probably get a confirmed address from your mom."

"And my dad?"

"Still an arsehole who comes and goes as he pleases." You grumble.

You walk out of your bedroom as quietly as possible. You peak over your couch and feel a weight lift off your chest. He was still here, right here in your flat. Your best friend, your rock and crush. Simon was finally back, not for the reason you might have fantasized about more than often you were willing to admit, but he was back. Love is such a funny thing, you think to yourself as you lay in bed. It had been three years since you had last seen him, hugging and barely holding back tears as he hopped on a bus to bootcamp. You hadn't cried that hard ever as you had cried on that day when he left. You turn onto your side and wipe away a few tears that leak from your eyes, at least he was here now.

You stand outside his family's home. You look down the street and recall the exact path that you could take to see your family. You had turned down Simon's offer to come inside, you didn't want to intrude on his reunion with his mother. You tap your foot as you lean against your truck, the same one you had driven to the fields outside of Manchester all those years ago. Simon steps outside of the house and hugs his mother one last time, his mouth moves but you don't hear what he has to say. His mother looks around him and looks at you. She's been crying you realize. You exchange a smile and a wave before she goes back inside of the house.

"Got the address?" You ask Simon as you both get into your truck.

"Got it." He confirms and gives you the address. You can't stop yourself from grimacing, of course it had to be that arsehole’s address. You hadn't left Simon in the dark of what was going on with his family while he was deployed and away. You didn't bother to spare details, okay, well maybe a few. Mostly about your own interactions with Tommy and his friends. But Simon didn't need to hear that, he had already sworn to come back and fix his family at least a dozen times since the third month. He didn't need to stress himself over you.

The car ride was quiet, the radio was off and the only sound was the wind blowing in through the open windows. You can feel the rage rolling off him but also the concern for his brother. The truck comes to stop outside of a dingy and unwelcoming flat building, you look at Simon and take him in. His brown eyes fill with determination and rage the longer he looks at the building. Finally, he opens the door, "I'm gonna get Tommy." He says before turning to go into the building after shutting the door. You let out a shaky sigh and let go of the steering wheel, looking at your shaking hands you try not to think too hard about what Tommy and his friends had done. What kind of people they were.

Tommy, your best friend's young brother had let his so-called friends push you around at your job until they were banned by your manager. Then they slashed your tires. Tommy hadn't changed, just become a carbon copy of dirt-bag father. Simon was made from something different, he was his mother's son, the undying love of his family and the ability to go with the flow of life. To never give up. You tense up as the people who lived in the flat walk past you, your breathing becoming more shallow as you watch them enter the flat. Oh god. Oh god. You panic and go to unbuckle yourself but struggle as your trembling hands only become worse.

You could hear the fighting coming from inside the house as you finally unbuckle yourself. There were five of them and only one of him. Oh god. Oh god. You push the truck door open and nearly tumble out, rushing to Simon's aid. You didn't expect to see him handling himself well against five other people while Tommy crouches low to avoid the fight altogether. One of the men goes to try and put Simon in a headlock, you do the only thing you can think of. You grab the man's jacket and pull him into your punch.

Simon places Tommy in the back seat, telling him he's going to bring him to the clinic and get him clean. You rub your throbbing knuckles, the pain from that one punch still echoing in your body. Simon gently takes your hand and inspects your knuckles, clicking his tongue. "You were never much of a fighter." He comments and looks up into your eyes. "But that was a good punch."

You're standing outside the clinic, the cold early spring wind making you pull your jacket closer to your body. Today was the day Tommy was going to be released, you weren't going to turn down Simon's request for you to be there. You had been spending more and more time with Simon and his mother. She is such a sweet lady, and loves her sons more than anything in the entire world. Simon looks at you and smiles, "I told you I would fix my family."

You roll your eyes, "I'll believe Tommy is clean when I see it." You grumble.

"I know he wasn't a good man back then,"

"He was a fucking mess Simon." You say, "He and his druggie friends cornered me once, demanded whatever money I had on me." You finally spill your guts, "I don't like him. You've been defending Tommy and his stupidity every day since I've known you." You look him right in the eyes, "He doesn't deserve your love or your mothers. As far as I'm concerned, he's been on my shit list since the first time I had to clean your bloody lip."

Simon looks at you for a long moment, your words hanging in the air until he pulls you into a hug. "I'm sorry." He mutters and hides his face in the crook of your neck. You freeze and he hugs you tighter, "I'm so sorry. You should have told me about that. I would have never-"

"Don't be sorry." You whisper quickly, "Never be sorry. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry. Simon you're too kind, too forgiving."

"That's not true."

"I think it is."

Someone coughs and Simon lets go of you, his face breaking into a smile as Tommy stands in front of the two of you. He looks different, better. Healthy and alive. "Can we go home now?" He asks. You watch as Simon walks up to Tommy and wraps him in his arms.

"Of course."

You watch from the driver's seat as their mum opens the door and jump into Tommy's arms as Tommy hugs her tight. You can't help the smile that grows on your face when Simon joins the hug. Their mum looks at you and motions you to join them. You shake your head but Simon walks over and pretty much drags you from the car and into the group hug.

Later that night, their mum pulls you to the side. "Thank you." She says and takes your hand into hers, "for being there for my Simon."

"It really was nothing." You assure her and she shakes her head.

"You love him very much. Don't try to deny it, you've stuck by his side all these years and I've seen the way you look at him." She winks, "I just hope the two of you get together before I'm dead."

You can't help the quiet laugh that comes from your throat, "Me too." You whisper and look over at Simon who sits next to Tommy as they watch a football match after eating dinner.

You can hardly believe that you're sitting here at Tommy's wedding next to their mum as you comfort her. Simon stands as Tommy's best man as they trade vows. Beth looks beautiful as she always has. Long black hair and charming blue eyes, she was beyond kind as well. Perfect for Tommy who hadn't lost some of his snark but Beth softened him. You look at Simon and smile when you notice he's holding back tears as they exchange vows.

The wedding's reception wasn't filled to the brim with people but it was lively, friends and distant family members mingled as you sit at a table with a glass of champagne. Simon lets out a sigh as he sits next to you at the edge of the party. "Are you having fun?" You tease and Simon rolls his eyes. Joseph, Simon's nephew who you are sure will never know a day of fear or hurt like his uncle and father, is exchanged between party members and snuck small bites of cake.

"I'd let to get away from all of this for a moment." He admits as he runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair. You remember when he was the sad strawberry blond boy that rainy school day. The way he avoided eye contact and others. You smile and take his hand.

"Then lets go."

You can faintly hear the music from the reception but other wise, this bench away from the party was the perfect place. The night sky is some what visible, with only the brightest stars being visible from all the light pollution of the city. A small breeze blows through your hair and you close your eyes to just soak in the moment. You open your eyes and Simon looks at you, softness in his eyes.

"What?"

"You're stunning." He says and you furrow your brows, ignoring the heat in your cheeks and neck. He leans in closer and cups your cheek, "Can I kiss you?" The words don't come to you but you nod frantically, feeling worried that he might change his mind for some reason. His eyes look between your eyes and lips before he leans in. The kiss is slow and he holds you like you might break or in case you want to leave. His lips are slightly chapped but soft and you vaguely wonder if he put on flavored chapstick earlier. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer and he takes the hint. The kiss turns from soft to practically ravenous as he holds you close, your mouth parts automatically and he slips his tongue in.

When you finally pull back to breath deeper, he looks at you with amazement. "I love you Simon Riley." You whisper and rest your forehead against his, "I have since we were 15. Don't leave me again Simon. Not if you can help it."

"You're gonna hate me then." He whispers as he holds you close. "I'm returning to duty in a month."

"I could never hate you Simon. Not in a million years. Just… write to me and when you go on leave again,” You take a steadying breath, “We can talk about what we are." He nods and you press your lips to his again.

You stand in the rain. You fucking hate the rain. It soaks through your black clothes and makes it stick to your skin. It mats down your hair and hides the tears that run down your face. There is no one here, no one but you and the priest at this funeral. How could this happen, you wonder. Everything was perfect. You look at the name on the gravestone. Tommy, Beth and Joseph, there's another gravestone a few feet away that has his mothers and fathers name on it. Simon is the only one who is buried alone. A bitter and petty choice from their distant family. Everyone thinks Simon did it. There was no proof to prove otherwise and it fit the story. A soldier returns home and suffers a PTSD breakdown and kills his entire family.

It didn't make sense. Simon was getting better, he promised he was getting better and attending therapy appointments. He loved Joseph, he loved his family and he loved you. He would have never done this. Maybe he would have murdered his father but the anger there was long and bitter, if he wanted to kill his father, he would have done it years ago.

Earlier last month, you had passed by a stand with different brochures. Some of them were for churches, others for activities to do with the family. Normally, you would have passed by it, eager to leave the store as quickly as possible. But you stopped this time and glanced at a particular brochure, you picked it from its spot and glanced over it. “You belong here.” A soldier is yelling while another is taking cover, inside are different recruiting offices and general information. You pocket it.

It was an impulsive decision. But the papers were filed and your two week notice already given. You didn't want to think about the consequences of what you were about to do, you just felt lost. University didn't matter, your cafe job didn't matter and every street in this fucking city reminded you of him. You decided if you were going to join the military. You had been accepted, the letter sat in your bag now that all of your items in your flat had been packed up and stored in your old childhood bedroom. This was just the last thing to do before the bus picks you up tomorrow morning.

You throw the roses in your hand into the caskets until you reach Simons. Your hand trembles as it holds the thorny rose, shakily you bring it to your lips and kiss the petals before tossing it into his grave. "I love you Simon Riley."

You watch as the city of Manchester flows past you like a river. It's raining again and the droplets obscure your vision of the outside world. People around you talk and you realize just how out of place you are. These are 16, 17 and 18 year olds with bright eyes and dreams. You vaguely wonder if Simon had sat in silence as he liked to do or if he had been dragged into a conversation. You glance at your duffle bag by your feet before leaning your head back and shutting your eyes. The bus ride would be a long one, you figure that some rest would make it faster.

Your name is called and you step forward, you hold onto the bag of items shoved into your arms. You listen to the drill sergeant yell that these are your items. You are responsible for maintaining and keeping track of all things in this bag. You realize, in a way that makes it difficult not to smile, that Simon was right. They are hard arses here.

You wonder why Simon never told you about this but he never seemed to tell you anything. You curse the dead man and curse yourself for being impulsive. Nearly done with university and you dropped out for him, for a dead man who was buried alone in his own grave. You use your anger to make it to the end, your uniform is covered in mud and the sensation makes your skin crawl but you run forward towards the rope wall, swinging your rifle over your back. “Come on Private!” The drill sergeant screams at you, “I’ve seen injured men move faster than you do!” You grit your teeth as he mocks you.

The scratches that litter your body sting as you crawl through the mud and muck underneath the barbed wire with a rifle held close to your chest. You breathe out puffs of condensation in the air, you’re shivering and you keep your jaw clenched so your teeth don’t chatter. You keep crawling, inching like a caterpillar towards the end of this section and fight the urge to just lay there on the ground. The cold rain soaks through your clothes and you grunt when part of the barbed wire above you catches onto your leg again. “Fuck.” You hiss but you’re nearly there.

It's his job, you remind yourself, to try and break you. If Simon leaving didn’t break you, if him and his family dying didn’t break you then this fucking drill sergeant was not going to break you. You climb up the rope and grapple onto the next bit of rope, locking your legs with your ankles and you inch down the rope even as your hands burn.

That night as you sit in the corner of the mess hall, you itch at the bandages wrapped around your hand. Whatever salve the lady in the med bay had slathered onto your hand hadn’t done much to cool the burning. You know it's counterintuitive to scratch at it but who was going to stop you? You were an adult now and could suffer the consequences of your stupid actions. Like not demanding Simon give you answers on why he was pulling away after finally confessing his feelings. You clench your fist and smother those feelings with the pain you feel.

No matter how many times you try to remind yourself there's no point in focusing on the past you can’t stop. How can you stop? Everything you’ve done has been for him and now he’s gone and you’re still doing things for him. You look around the mess hall at the different groups of fellow trainee’s and know you’ll never have that kind of connection with anyone else. Simon was it. Your best friend since childhood, your first crush and first heartbreak. You wander outside and sit on a stack of crates near the mess when the talking and clanking of silverware grows too much.

The night is cool, the sky is clear from the rain that had poured so hard earlier but you can’t see the stars anyway. You go to itch at your hand again when a drill sergeant comes around the corner. You stiffen up and immediately get up to salute but he dismisses you before you even get your hand to your forehead. “Private, why aren’t you in the mess eating?”

“Lost my appetite, sir.” You reply, “Figured some fresh air would do me some good.” You go to scratch at your hand again and his eyes snap to the motion.

“Private, did the nurse not provide you with burn cream?” He asked and it was weird having the man who yelled at you all day suddenly become concerned for your well-being.

“She did, sir, it just itches.” You explain and the drill sergeant makes a face, for a second you worry that he will demand that you return to the med bay again. Instead, he nods.

“Dismissed Private. Get some rest.” You nod and scurry away to your barracks.

The helicopter’s wings slow but any flyaways in your hair whip and stick to your face anyways. After serving in the SAS for five years, you had been picked by Chief station Laswell and Captain John Price to be a part of the 141 task force. You couldn’t believe you had finally done it, all these years of serving and you start to finally believe that you might’ve done Simon some justice. All the broken bones, bruises and scars are worth it if it means he’s looking down on you fondly. You look between the four men in front of you. You recognize Captain Price immediately with his boonie hat and well groomed mutton chops. He extends his hand which you take and shake with a firm grip. “Boys, this is Gator. They’ll be joinin’ our task force startin’ today.”

The man standing next to Price smiles at you, beautiful white teeth with a stunning smile and soft brown eyes. He has a scar on his cheek and you wonder how he got it as you shake his hand, “This is Sergeant Garrick.” Price says and you beam back at him.

“A pleasure to meet you Sergeant.”

“No need for that, just call me Gaz.” He assures you and lets go of your hand. You turn to meet the third man and before you can even open your mouth or extend your hand to shake, he’s grabbing yours with a grip tight enough to shatter a few bones. He has a stupid mohawk haircut that he somehow makes work, crystal blue eyes and you can tell that he’s a little mischievous.

“I’m Sergeant MacTavish but e’eryone calls me Soap.” He laughs, warm like an early summer day, when he sees your eyebrows raise. “I’ll tell ye why later.” He promises with a wink.

“Oi! Johnny, stop hoggin’ the new meat.” You turn to the voice and have to stop yourself from taking a step back just so you could look at the man fully. He’s fucking huge. Broad shoulders, wearing all black and a skull mask to hide his face. You can barely make out his brown eyes from under all that eye black. His accent is rough, with a voice that gives away how much he smokes. He looks down at you, like you suspect he has to most people, and you want to slink away into whatever hole he thinks you crawled out of. Despite this, you stick your hand out for him to shake.

“And this is your Lieutenant, Ghost.” You have to stop yourself from snorting. Ghost, how fitting for a man literally wearing a skull mask. He grips your hand and gives it a firm shake as his eyes burn holes into your soul. You look at his hand when you feel something other than familiar flesh, it's a glove. Even funnier, its skeleton gloves. It sends you nearly into a giggle fit, yes this man is intimidating to a point where you would have been shaking in your boots a few years ago. But he’s unironically wearing skeleton gloves. How is that not funny? He gives you a firm shake but just as quickly removes his gloved hand from yours. “Alright Gator, Ghost will give you a quick tour around here and then I want you to report for training at 0500 hours.”

The tour is silent besides the simple sentences Ghost speaks and you’re that sure he wouldn’t if Price hadn’t put him on the spot for giving you the tour. “This ‘ere is the training hall, this is where yer expected to be tomorrow.” He gruffly says, stiff as a board. You nod and nearly jump out of your skin when someone wraps their arm around your shoulders.

“There ye are! I was tryin’ tae find ye.”

“Sergeant.” Ghost says gruffly and Soap rolls his eyes before removing his arm. “They are busy.”

“Away an bile yer heid.” Soap says with a laugh, “I ken that yer aboot as excited fer this tour as they are.” You didn’t need to see Ghost roll his eyes to know he did, it was just in the way the air shifts around the three of you. “Lemme take over the rest of the tour aye?” Ghost sighs but concedes which confirms that he would really rather be anywhere else than giving the FNG a tour. “Good lad.” Soap chuckles and pats Ghost’s shoulder.

Ghost leaves quickly for being a man so massive and Soap turns to you, “Dinnae mind him, he’s a big grump.” You snort and laugh while nodding in agreement. “Alright, let's continue this tour.” Soap claps a hand on your back and for the rest of the day, with breaks for food of course, he showed you around. He was certainly better at it then Ghost who acted like he had been asked to travel across the sahara desert while carrying you.

“Steamin’ Jesus.” Soap groans while he stumbles back from you. Sweat sticks to your forehead and your usual hairdo is ruined but so is the way of sparring and training. “I see why they call ye Gator.” He grumbles as he holds his head. “Ye fuckin’ death rolled me.” Soap accuses and it was true. You have the strength to take down men bigger than you in not only height but sheer mass. It was a skill you had honed for the past several years ever since you figured it out in bootcamp.

You wrap your arms around him as he tries to pin you to the mat and roll. You twist with all your might and switch the position then without a second thought you slam your head against his. The force knocks your brain around and the headache you’ll get later is going to be absolutely terrible but the man under you groans and holds his forehead. “I yield! Holy shite.” He curses as you immediately back away from him. You glance around at the group of people who had made it this far into the training and then meet the eyes of your drill sergeant who, if you weren’t mistaken and didn’t have a concussion, looked almost proud.

That night as you hold an ice pack against your forehead and sit outside the mess hall away, he approaches again. “Never seen a private do that.” He says after immediately acknowledging your salute and telling you to be at ease. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone do that before.” You sheepishly shrug.

“I didn’t want to lose.”

“And so you didn’t.” A silence hangs in the air as the crickets chirp and you wonder if that's an owl’s hoot you hear. “I think you're going to have a nickname before you even leave camp.” He says, “You have the other sergeants wantin’ to call you Gator.”

“Gator?” You ask even if you understand the implications. You guess you did a kind of death roll that poor buy but Gator? Really?

“Better than some poor sod who got named Dirt because he ended up with a mouth full of dirt after tripping on the 20 mile march.” You chuckle at that.

“I guess Gator is much better than Dirt.”

“That’s the spirit. You better get some rest for tomorrow, Private.” He says before walking away and just like that time, leaving you to sit in the cool night air before you heed his warning.

You grit your teeth as Ghost ignores you again. You’re just trying to get him to sign from fucking paperwork Captain Price asked of you. “Lieutenant I need-”

“Not now sergeant.” Ghost says as he walks away from you and you want to scream. Its been like this the entire time you’ve been on this team. At first you thought it was his way of hazing you, act like a dickhead and see if the FNG breaks. Well you haven’t broken, you’ve only doubled down because every time he acts like this you keep being reminded of Simon and how he wouldn’t have given up.

At least Gaz and Soap were more open to you being on their task force now that months had passed. Although you doubt if Soap had ever disliked the idea of you being on the force. You barely duck Gaz’s punch but aren’t fast enough to catch his leg before it slams full force into your side. You grab it before he can bring it back and yank on it so he falls onto the floor, he rolls over before you can pin him down. You stare at each other for a moment before you lunge at him like a rabid dog without a leash.

He steps to the side and then grabs the back of your shirt collar to slam you down into the mat. You squirm and fight to keep him from pinning your arms back but it's no use. And in this position, death rolling him was nearly impossible. And you’ve definitely been trying. “Distracted Gator?” Gaz asks as he pants and you snarl back at him before you let out a meek ‘I yield’. He releases you immediately and you rub your wrists. “Broken?”

“Negative.” You say as you walk over to grab your bottle of water.

Watching you spar from the corner was Ghost. He observes the way you fight and the way you wiggle out of every attempt to pin you until the last. If it wasn’t for your infamous ability to death roll, he’s sure you would have ended up being called Weasel. And wasn’t that an amusing thought? Still better than Soap. “Ye stalkin’ the FNG.” Soap teases and Ghost glances down at Soap with what he knows is a deadpan expression. Or at least deadpan eyes. Mask and all that.

“You stalkin’ me?” Ghost shoots back and Soap grins this feral grin that makes Ghost groan inwardly because that grin meant only one thing. Dog with a fuckin’ bone, thats what Soap is when he thinks he’s smelt something out. “Don’t start MacTavish.”

“Oh its MacTavish it is?” Soap feigns hurt as he clutches his chest. “Ye wound me sir.”

“It is when yer about to say somethin’ god awfully stupid.”

“Yer no fun L.T.” Soap laments and Ghost rolls his eyes while shaking his head at Soap’s antics. Soap looks past Ghost and to Gator who is talking with Gaz on the bench while the two of them drink water and give the other advice. “Slippery thing they are.” Soap comments and Ghost nods. “Dinnae think I’ve ever seen someone slip out of your hold befure.”

“Is tha’ the reason yer botheirn’ me Sergeant?”

“Botherin’ ye? Nae sir, jus’ wanna see how Gaz manages to take them down.” Soap says, a half truth and they both know it.

“They gave him a hard time too.”

“Do ye think tha’ they oil up befure every sparrin’ match?” Soap says with a smile and Ghost rolls his eyes despite the small smile growing beneath his mask. You look up and notice Soap and Ghost which immediately makes him want to flee the scene. Every time you lock eyes with him, it sends him back to his time in Mexico. You’re a constant reminder and he wants you gone. Simon is dead and he’s not sure why you even joined the fucking military in the first place. Last he knew you were close to finishing off your degree, did you drop out to join this place?

Ghost grits his teeth as he shoves the memories of both Roba and you back into the box he had stuffed the two of you into years ago. He can’t open the box for one without the other escaping. You offer him a small smile and he turns on his heel. He walks as quickly as he can back to his private quarters, perks of being an officer and also being dead he guessed. He slams his door behind him and marches right into the bathroom. He yanks off the mask and stares at himself. He stares at the scars across his face, his broken one-too-many-times nose and the scar that cuts his lip. He takes stalk of his flaws within his face, the one you had seen and hadn’t recoiled from.

He wonders if you even suspect that its him and his chest hurts at the thought that you’ve forgotten him. But he knows he hasn’t earned his right back into your life, he’s dead. He can never be the man you need or want, he’s different now. Much more scarred than when he returned from Mexico, he’s brash and rude. He doesn’t like people and he doesn’t like that he still wants to be near you. It’s irrational, it’s stupid and there’s nothing he can do about it but try and get to you to quit.

“Captain Price told me to give this to you.” A Corporal says, clearly shaking in his boots, as he hands Ghost a file. “A-and he told me that he wants you in the briefing room.”

“Dismissed Corporal.” Ghost says and the man scurries off. Ghost looks at the file and opens it, the first thing he sees is that it’s a duo op. The second thing he sees is that you’re the one coming along. “Fuckin’ hell.” He mutters as he looks at your little picture papercliped to the top of the page next to his faceless one.

“He always does that.” You groan to Gaz as you watch Ghost turn on his heel and leave once you lock eyes with him. “Did I do something wrong?” You ask, “It's been months.”

Gaz shrugs, “Ghost is an enigma, when you start to think you know him you find something else about him. That man has secrets upon secrets.” You frown at that statement. Obviously he was hiding his face to protect his identity and of course that made you naturally curious but you’ve never pressed about it. He’s quiet and efficient if any of the stories told you by Gaz and Soap were anything to go by. And now he’s a secret keeper.

Who are you Ghost?

”The group that had been inhabiting the old soviet base are still lingering around and might return when they realize that they’ve left behind a very important piece of information.” Captain Price says and points to the projected map on the wall. “You’ll need to be fast and efficient. Is that clear?” His blue eyes scan over the two of you and both of you echo a ‘yes sir’ at the same time. “Good, get your gear and be ready, you’re wheels up in two hours.”

You sit at the table in the briefing room, bouncing your leg up and down under the table as Captain Price goes over what the mission objective is and what intel you and Ghost will be going in with. The mission is in Siberia, the objective is to get an old usb drive from a recently re-abandoned USSR base. You glance over at Ghost who hasn’t stopped looking at you this entire time, only dragging his eyes away from you when Captain Price addresses him specifically. His brown eyes seem to be trying to burn holes into your very soul so you try to match it. This would be your first duo op with Ghost and you would not be pushed around during it.

“Yes sir.” You say and leave the room after being properly dismissed. You look at the file in your hand, the information covered in the briefing summarized in the file with certain things blacked out. Like the fact this is in Siberia or that it’s an old soviet base that had been taken over by a terrorist group for a short while. You worry about that fact, if this base had been well and truly abandoned, why would the group set up there? Siberia wasn’t exactly a very hospitable environment and would take a certain amount of resources to deal with. Not just any kind of terrorist group would be able to afford those expenses.

“What’s got ye frownin’ so hard?” Soap asks and you jolt, not even aware that Soap had come up to you. He glances at the file and whistles, “Yer on a mission with L.T?”

”Somethin’ wrong with that? Something I should be worried about?” You ask, glancing behind Soap to make sure that specter wasn’t there.

“Nae, nothin’ ye should worry about besides the stick up his arse.” Soap jokes and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you. Soap grins, “There’s that smile.” Soap pinches your cheek and you swat at his hand.

”What are you? My aunt?”

”Nae I’m worse.” Soap laughs as he goes to pinch your cheek again. You squeal and laugh as you take off towards the armory and Soap gives chase. You eventually make him leave, shoo-ing him off so you can change into your gear. The gear is heavy but familiar, a comforting kind of weight that you always mourn once an op is over. Tightening the strap of your vest until you felt like it was secure enough and doing the same thing with the gun holster on your thigh.

”You tighten it anymore and you’ll lose blood flow.” Ghost grunts and you stop yourself from startling a little. Ghost walks up to you and loosens the straps himself a little before your brain starts working again. You slap his hands away and glare up at him.

”I am perfectly capable of knowing when to stop tightening my straps.” You hiss. You had been in the SAS long enough to know your preferences and the fact that he is trying to baby you is insulting at best and downright disrespectful at worst. Ghost stares down at you, brown eyes dead but also filled with some kind of emotion you can’t place. He says nothing else, doesn’t even grunt, before he turns to get his gear on. You huff and finish preparing your items for the op.

You go over the file one last time while on the flight to Siberia, flipping through the different pages and you can’t fight off the gut feeling that something isn’t right. You bounce your leg as you look at the map of the base, for an old soviet base, it's small. Granted, you don’t know how big USSR bases in Siberia tended to be but this is just too small. You glance at Ghost and contemplate mentioning this to him but since the armory he hasn’t spoken a word to you. Let alone even look your way which would normally be a reprieve but right now you wish he would look, just so you’d feel less awkward starting a conversation. You remind yourself that he’s a Lieutenant, he knows more than a Sergeant such as yourself. You need to trust your commanding officer.

Ghost can feel the warmth from you, like you had leaked a part of yourself into his gloves and now he can’t get rid of it. He doesn’t understand why he had approached and went to fix your straps, really they are too tight for comfort, but when you had slapped his hands away it was like a shock had gone through him. Like his entire system had been rebooted from the simple touch, now he can’t even bear to look at you. He can feel the weight of your gaze on him though and that’s how he knows that he acted out of character. He clenches his fist so tight his knuckles are cramped when he opens it again, he wishes you would just say what you want to say.

He wishes you would yell at him so he would have something to tell Price about, to maybe get you booted off the team. He’s been a prick to you, moving your stuff in the rec room, eating your food and being condescending. What kind of drill sergeant you had, he didn’t know but they must’ve turned your will into steel. Or maybe you were always like that, you hadn’t given up on him when you got a glance at his life at home. You treated his bloody noses and busted lips, you convinced your parents to let him stay over as often as possible. You even went with him to get Tommy despite the shit Tommy and his shitty friends had put you through.

Ghost clenches his jaw, no matter what, this is better for you. He just needs to get you to quit or maybe transfer to some kind of safer job in the military if you’re so hell bent on staying. He still can’t wrap his mind around the fact that you dropped out of university. He steals a glance and sees you looking at the file the same way you would look at study notes before a test.

You were right. Of course you were fucking right. Why do you have to be right? The base is much, much bigger than the intel said and worse is the fact that its not completely abandoned. “Get the fuck out of there!” Ghost yells over comms and you’re so close to just tearing the wiring in half so you don’t have to listen to him. You turn another corner, refilling the ammo in your pistol as the sound of pounding footsteps echo down the long concrete hallways of this underground base. You wait for the man to turn the corner and shoot him right between the eyes, the muzzle on your pistol only does so much and the sound bounces off the walls. ”I said to get out of there soldier!”

You snarl, “I’m getting this fucking USB drive, fuck off!” You say into comms as you run down the halls. Lights flicker above you and distantly you can hear soldiers yelling. Just a few more turns, you tell yourself as you slide into a wall, using your arms you push off it and keep going. Once out of this god forsaken underground, NOT abandoned, USSR base you’d die happy never seeing another concrete hall. You slam the door open to the server room stored deep in the base and lock it behind you, hoping that might spare you some time between you and soldiers surely running down the halls towards you.

”Don’t ignore me Sergeant!” His voice comes out warbled, likely because you’re so far underground. You clench your jaw so hard your teeth hurt as you fling open different desk drawers, toss everything onto the desk in search of the USB they sent you here for in the first place. After six desks, you realize there is no way there is a USB.

”Fucking CIA intel.” You grab an unused USB from a desk and jam it into the nearest computer. “Fucking lucky I took that damn class.” You mutter to yourself as you bypass the passwords and begin to download the information.

”Sergeant! I said get out of there, use your bloody ears!”

”I have to download everything myself!” You yell into the comms, “The intel was shite!” You slam your pistol into the PC you’re not currently using. “Fucking CIA.”

”I don’t care! I’m pulling us from this mission.”

”I’m getting this USB Lieutenant, you’re welcome to chew me out once I’m back on the surface.” You snap, “Going dark.”

”Don’t you da-“ You rip the wires out of your comms and throw the damn thing onto the floor.

Ghost yells into the comms again but only gets static back, he looks down at the base from the scope of his sniper. It looks abandoned, it looks small and easy to navigate but he heard what you said. He knows that its all a facade, that the terrorist group had found tunnels to another base nearby and have been smuggling weapons and food between those tunnels, hardly ever having to go outside at this base. Which is what led the intel team to believe its been abandoned and therefore an easy op. His heart is pounding against his chest and it hurts from how hard its beating against his chest, he keeps trying the comms. “Gator! Gator turn your comms back on!” He snarls into the mic but still nothing.

It’s then that it dawns on him that you didn’t just turn comms off, you ripped the wiring out. “God damn it.” He grunts as he gets off the ground, the snow disguising him falls to the ground as he hauls his sniper up and buries it under the snow between two trees. He pulls out his shitty cracked phone, that he frankly refuses to replace. He knows why and its not because he doesn’t like the newer versions. It’s because this one has those pictures of you, the version of you that hadn’t turned your back on civilian life yet. The version of you that makes him feel kind of sick for looking at now that he knows you now.

He opens up his map to the coordinates to the nearest safe house, and grabs his pistol before he puts his phone away. He sighs and makes his way down towards the base that must be crawling with enemy terrorists but no one gets left behind. And he’s not about to let you die down there, his grip on his pistol tightens for just a second before he forces his fist to relax. He saunters his way in, everyone is far too distracted with chasing you down to pay attention to the cameras. He slides down the ladder into the base and is immediately greeted with the muffled sound of an alarm. “Fucking hell.” He mutters as he readies his pistol and knife.

You grunt, push the metal cabinet against the door, pushing through the pain in your thigh to do so. By the time it’s in place, you collapse against the wall next to it, grunting at the pain that shoots up your thigh in quick bursts. You look at the bullet wound and can’t help the disgust that crawls up your face when you realize it's pumping blood out in the rhythm of your heart beat. It’s funny, you’ve been shot before but you never had the time to look at it. It makes sense that it would do that though. You lean your head back against the concrete wall and can’t help the sob that rips it way out of your throat. Not because you’re going to die, not entirely because of that. Because you’re going to die in a concrete box alone.

You smear your bloody hand against the wall, wiping it off as you fumble with your shirt, pull just enough fabric out and rip it. No, you think, you’re not going to die here. Anywhere but in fucking Siberia surrounded by enemies and in a damn concrete room underground. You wrap the torn fabric around your thigh, just above the wound and wrap it tightly. So tightly you can actually feel the blood flow being slowed and this time on purpose. You check the bullets in your pistol and laugh when you see only two. “And I’m fucking out.” You mumble just as you hear someone’s boots echo outside of the room. You rise on shaky legs and bite your tongue to keep from crying out from the pain but walk over to the corner. You raise the gun and point towards the metal cabinet that is rocking from the force of what must be either several people pushing or one big motherfucker.

You don’t pray, no sense in praying right now. Even if you did ask for forgiveness you wouldn’t get it, the blood on your hands is more than any person can justify, not even God because it is a rule. Thou shall not murder. You huff out a laugh at that, well you’ve certainly sinned. The metal cabinet comes crashing down and in bursts three men. Fuck. You fire your last two shots and take down the first two but when the third enemy hears the gun click, he laughs. It’s an ugly and horrible laugh, one that expresses his entire arrogance of you being in this situation. Wounded and without any ammo, your knife left behind in some fuckers neck a few corners ago. “You lose.” He taunts as he walks closer and your leg finally loses feeling, you slide down the wall as you stare at the man who is going to hopefully bring you death.

You’re reminded of that quote you read once, When I die, bury me in the woods, the wolves will be kinder to me than any man. And if you weren’t about to meet your end, you’d laugh at the fact you can’t even remember the woman who said it. You hope she got her wish. The man raises his pistol and presses it to your temple. You hear a bang echo in the room and expect for it all to be over but you grunt when the man lands on you. “What the fuck?” You mutter as you struggle to push the weight of a dead man off of you. He’s pulled off of you and you look up at the bloody skull face plate, “Aren’t you just a life saver?” You quip before you throw up.

Ghost huffs when you pass out after throwing up and narrowly avoiding his boots. He hauls you up and over his shoulder, tucking your pistol into your thigh holster. Trying to get you up the ladder was hell, he was constantly afraid that his grip would loosen and you’d fall to your death. The walk to the safe house is about half way done when he feels your stirring. He grips you tighter just in case you try to flail around and attempt to land yourself in the snow.

When you come to, you realize that you’re over someone’s shoulder. Just as you’re about to flail around, the memory of Ghost standing over you. “Awake now?” Ghost asks, his voice rough as always and that reminds you of someone you used to know. You give your reply in the form of a groan which is all that seems to want to leave your mouth. “We’re about an hour away from a safe house.”

”And I wasn’t told?” You snap, anger pushing past the way you feel like you’re going to throw up if you speak again.

”Need to know.”

”Well I might’ve needed to know!” You flail your arms around harmlessly before you collapse back to being a rag doll on his back. He doesn’t respond and when you think he’s about to return to his normal grumpy silence, he breaks it.

”What the fuck were you thinkin’?” He snaps and you jolt awake from the half sleep you had unknowingly slipped into. “Ripping your comm wires out and going dark. What the fuck Sergeant?”

”I wasn’t able to focus with you screaming at me to abandon the mission.” You immediately jump to defend, “I got the damn USB drive with the intel they need, I completed the mission.” You don’t even realize that he’s reached the safe house until he nearly kicks the door in because the doorknob is frozen. He practically tosses you onto the couch before slamming the door shut. “I completed the objective.” You nearly snarl out.

”You failed to follow simple orders to retreat.” He slams his pistol and knife down on the table, “You nearly died.”

”Yeah, well it didn’t seem like you’d care all that fucking much if I did! If I hadn’t gotten the USB,” You pull the damn thing from your front vest pouch and throw it onto the table. “then the entire thing would have been a waste!”

”I don’t care about the USB, if you’re in danger like that you follow my damn orders! I can’t lose you!” Ghost grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you just a little. You look at him, feeling confusion creep up before it is swallowed down by anger.

”What?”

”Forget about it.”

”No. You’ve been treating me like a damn nuisance the minute I joined the task force and now you suddenly care? Why now huh? Why now? Because you sure didn’t act like I mattered very much.”

”I said forget about it.” He snarls but you go to stand on shaking legs

”No fuck that! Fuck you Ghost! What changed?” You keep hounding him until he slams his fist down the table and rips off his mask.

He says your name gently, like he’s trying to soothe an animal but you’re frankly ready to sink your teeth into his skin if he tries to approach. “You didn’t even have the courage to write? Not even a little postcard? Something! Anything! To let me know you’re not dead? You’re lucky I’m not able to walk.” You spit.

Rage boils up in you so quickly, so quickly you aren’t able to express it all just through yelling. It burns you up, sets you on fire and throws lighter fluid into that inferno any time you think it's about to burn a little less. It’s all consuming anger mixed with all those years of grief that you never properly addressed, just slapped a bandaid on called military life and carried on. Hot tears run down your face as you scream and rage at him. You even throw something at him, though he ducks out of the way easily. “You fucking bastard! You bastard! Fuck you Simon Riley!” You scream as you cry, head pounding from something. The pain in your thigh? The rage in your temple? Or how hard you’re crying? Probably a mixture of all three. “You’re dead! I buried you! I went to your funeral Riley!” You throw something else at him, probably an MRE.

”Would you listen-“ Simon tries to say but you immediately cut him off. Hearing his voice makes whatever walls you have built up over these five years crumble so easily. You can’t let him speak or else you’ll fall into his arms and just cry. And you need to be angry because you deserve to be angry.

”No! You listen to me Simon Riley!” You ball your hands into fists, “Why? Why did you treat me like shit? Why did you undermine me at every turn? It’s bad enough that you let me believe that you were dead! Wasn’t that enough for you? But of course it wasn’t, you had to make my life hell because you met me again!”

”Shut up!” Simon finally snaps, his brown eyes swirling with fury and guilt. “I had my reasons and if you would just-”

”Well what were they then? Huh? I’m all fucking ears.”

”You keep interrupting me. If you didn’t-“

”You had months to come clean Simon! Years if you count the time before I met you again and after all that time you couldn’t just be a man and tell me? Couldn’t even send me a hint that you were alive?” You slam your fist into the wall, you ignore the pain that shoots right up your arm into your shoulder. You glare at him through your tears and wipe at them frantically. “You didn’t even try.”

”I did it to protect you! And if you’d just let me speak I’d tell you all the reasons I had to not tell you or even let you think I was alive!” Simon finally manages to say, he goes to speak again and you hold up your hand.

”Don’t talk to me Simon Riley.” You say as you wipe away any tears from your cheeks that hadn’t rolled all the way down. Your eyes burn and your stomach hurts from just how much you’re feeling right now. Deep down, past the anger you feel relief because he’s alive. Your Simon is alive and maybe more rough around the edges with a scar bisecting his lip, a nasty scar along his cheek and nose broken and not properly set several times. You’re also sure his eye bags have increased tenfold since you last saw him but his eye black keeps that little fact hidden from you. His teeth are chipped and broken but his brown eyes still hold that same depth. You can tell he still smiles the same and he’s still that overprotective boy who had scared off your date that one time just by opening the door.

That’s still your Simon Riley. But damn him to the deepest hell and back for making your heart hurt so badly. “Fine.” He grits out before he marches to what you assume is the safe house bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

There is something wrong with me. That is Simon’s first thought when he looks at himself in the mirror that must be old because his reflection is warped. There is something wrong with me and it's not the scars or the way my joints ache when I stand or sit down. There is something wrong with me and it makes my blood run black. Simon wonders if he had been born wrong. He suspects he’s always been this way, he was his father’s son after all, doomed to be awful to all of those he knows. To use them and drain them dry until they cut him off or he tosses them away. He doesn’t want you to be part of that cycle, to be a part of the cycle that always results in those close to him dying.

He already lost his family, he couldn’t lose you too so he cut you out completely. It was better if you thought he was dead. You were better off thinking he was dead in the ground even if it hurt you, even if it hurt him. And fuck did it hurt that first year, every time something happened he wanted to call you or text you. Tell you all about it late at night in a part of base where no one would care if he was awake if they even dared to approach him at all. Simon wanted to return to you more then anything but Ghost hadn’t dug himself out of that grave and lost his entire family as consequence for not fucking dying just for you to meet that same fate. No, you’d be his only in memory. Maybe one day he’d stalk your social media and find that you’ve moved on. Hopefully out of that fucking city, working a good paying job with a man who deserved you.

And it didn’t matter how much that thought made his supposedly ice heart hurt. It didn’t matter because he was dead and there was nothing he could give you besides this rotting body and whatever love he could scrape together for you.

Simon looks at himself in the mirror, completely maskless and bare for what felt like the first time in years. It felt like his skin had been pulled away to show the maggots, rotting tendons and muscle underneath. Every tear that had left your beautiful eyes had felt like acid on his skin, every word thrown his way a well placed knife throw. He knew he deserved all that malice and if you didn't want to talk to him, then he wouldn’t talk to you. No matter how much he wants to.

The next two days go by slowly, it reminds you of the time you had to go through a bog. Slow movements and time seemed to slow to a fucking crawl as you traversed the bog to go around an enemy encampment so you could get the jump on them from behind. It didn’t matter that your clothes had been soaked through or that you could feel the cold of the water seeping into your bones. You kept going. So the same logic was applied here. Your bullet wound in your thigh eventually got treated properly, in silence of course. Simon had given you the first aid kit and you did your best with what you had. Digging out the bullet had to be one of the most painful experiences you’ve ever had.

Simon had wanted to step in and do it himself but he knew you’d sooner accept an infection then let him any closer then needed. By the end of the hour and several deep, guttural screams cut off only by the belt between your teeth, you had managed to pull the bullet out. You were quick to stitch the hole closed and to wrap it in bandages. When that was over, you only had enough strength to crawl onto the shitty couch and pass out.

The first day not talking to him was filled with tension. It was so thick you could cut it with your knife, if you had it that is. It’s still stuck in that asshole’s neck which sucks because it was a good neck. You were hesitant to put any pressure on your wound, terrified of ripping your frankly shit stitches and increasing the chances of you getting an infection. You spent the entire day cleaning and taking apart your gun with occasional glares sent to Simon if he tried to enter the same room as you and stay for more than a few minutes.

He understood your anger, he did, but he couldn’t stand it at the same time. He wants to sit right next to and soak in your presence in a way he hadn’t allowed himself before this. He hadn’t bothered to put his mask back on and when he had stepped out of the bathroom without it the first time you had jerked like someone had pinched you. You could still tell he had blonde hair from his eyebrows but seeing his blonde hair in a buzz cut had felt like an electric shock. That was still your Simon even all these years later and that made you angrier. How could he? How dare he? After all these years, he looked the same despite the scars on his face but you? Do you still look the same despite the weariness in your eyes and being grief eaten.

The only word he spoke to you was, “There’s a blizzard coming in tomorrow.” You had only given a grunt in acknowledgement which he had to admit, stung. How many times had he responded to you like that while trying to get you to quit and transfer somewhere else? Far too many times, he ran a gloved hand through his prickly hair as he shook his head. God he had been so fucking stupid and stubborn. As it turns out, the blizzard couldn’t wait until tomorrow or maybe it was the next day. The wind shook the entire safe house, the walls creaked and groaned from the force of it. The windows were covered by snow or maybe it was a white out, you couldn’t tell. You didn’t even want to lift your head to check. You were fucking freezing despite your thermals and the blanket. Your teeth chattered as you pulled the blanket even closer and closed your eyes. Your cheeks were numb and you could barely feel your nose, your fingers actually hurt from how cold they were.

You blew more warm breath into your cupped hands, your entire body shivered as another burst of wind caused the house to groan from the weight of it. You glanced around the living room/kitchen area, the fireplace was boarded up but it wouldn’t matter if it wasn’t, you had no wood. The only thing of light was a battery powered lamp that you had been surprised still worked. You knew where Simon was, in the only other room besides the bathroom, the bedroom. Getting up those stairs would have been impossible for you the first two days here with your injury. Hell, you even doubted if you had enough strength to do it now even with the protein and nutrient packed MRE’s given to you for rations. But you suspected if you didn’t seek out another form of warmth and soon, you’d end up a popsicle. And frankly? That sounded like a bad way to go.

You shakily got to your feet, where it was from being nervous about putting weight on your injured leg or if you were cold, you couldn’t be sure. But you wobble up the stairs, gripping the rail for life the entire way and nearly falling when you finally manage to get the doorknob to turn. Simon catches you, he opens his mouth to chastise you before he realizes the state you’re in. He mutters your name, brown eyes filled with worry as you shrug, too tired and frozen to verbally shrug. He shakes his head and brings you to the mattress in the corner, he quickly runs downstairs and grabs your blanket before returning upstairs. You grumble, which honestly was just noises from the back of your throat as he settles next to you, pulling both blankets over the two of you. After a few minutes and warming up a little you mumble, “This doesn’t change that I’m upset with you.”

”I would never expect it to.” He whispers back as he wraps an arm around you. It shouldn’t be as easy as it is, like two pieces of a puzzle finally snapping together. You seep warmth from him like a leech while he holds you close and steady enough that you don’t shiver or shake. He stays awake the entire time, long after you’ve fallen asleep on your pack-made-pillow. Simon looks at you and drinks you in properly this time. Despite the blizzard outside still raging on and the cold temperatures making your skin lose a little color, you’re still as stunning as the day he confessed his love to you. He can still recall that day, sitting at a bench a little ways away from the reception party. The cool October breeze blowing through and the way you looked so relaxed. So content with the moment and with him. He kissed you that night, he kissed you like a starving animal. Like he might never get to kiss you again and that he needed to take what he could now.

“I love you Simon Riley. I have since we were 15. Don’t leave me again Simon, not if you can help it.” He was fucking idiot not to say it back, he didn’t even think to do so because his heart had been stabbed the moment you pleaded with him not to leave because he was leaving again. He was leaving you, the best thing in his entire life. Then he came back fucked but he did his best to get better. He didn’t want to touch you, he was terrified he would hurt you. Force himself on you, every night he dreamed that he was hurting you and that he enjoyed it. The therapy helped a little, you and his family helped a lot. Having something to return to helped so much. Then it all came burning down and damn it, he wasn’t going to let you die. So he killed the men then he returned to Mexico and killed Roba and his entire cartel. Then he never returned home, he never let you even think that he was alive. He glances down at you, sleeping in his arms

Sometimes, if he looks at you even now, he can recall the day the two of you met.

It was so cold and the rain didn’t make anything better. He trembles in his too-big shirt and pants which are rolled up to stop him from tripping again. He sniffles and wipes at his face, if he wipes away tears or the rain he doesn’t know. Other kids pass by him quickly with their umbrellas, rain coats and boots, protected by the things their mum’s and dad’s buy for them. His dad had sold his and Tommy’s umbrella’s and coats to afford more alcohol and drugs. Being the good big brother that Simon told himself he was, he let Tommy take their mum’s coat instead of him. He didn’t regret that, he could never regret making Tommy’s life a little better.

He isn’t expecting you to walk up to him with an umbrella with yellow ducks on it. He recognizes you almost instantly, you go to his class. You ask him, “What are you doing without an umbrella?” with your head tilted to the side like a confused puppy.

He mumbled out, eyes averted to the ground and soggy strawberry hair sticking to his forehead, “I don’t have one.” You asked if his mum didn’t buy him one. She did, she always did her best to provide for him and Tommy but his dad always ruined it. You don’t wait for him to respond, you don’t push for further answers or make fun of him for not having an umbrella or raincoat.

Instead, you smile at him and hold the umbrella with yellow ducks on it over his head after pulling the hood of your coat over your head. “Well it doesn’t matter now, I’m here and we can share.” You give him your name and he gives you his with the tiniest smile on his face. You held the umbrella over his head the entire way there then you walked him home because it was still raining. You called him a friend.

When you wake up, he lets you sit in silence. The blizzard had mostly passed through during the night, the worst of it was over but the safe house outside of the blankets was freezing cold. Simon knew he wasn’t exactly in a rush to leave the warmth and comfort of this moment. The silence hangs between the two of you and at some point, you begin to play with fingers in the way you used to when growing up. It takes a better part of an hour for him to work up the courage and it really feels like he is going to throw up when he whispers, “Do you still love me?” It’s quiet that if you didn’t know his voice that you’d think it was the wind still blowing.

He swallows hard and squeezes his eyes shut as he waits for the killing blow. For you tell him that you don’t love him anymore, especially after these five years and the shit he pulled. But it doesn’t come, instead he hears your shuffling and feels your slightly cold hands cup his stubble covered cheeks. He peaks his eyes open and nearly melts at the sight before him. You, nearly in tears as you look at him so fondly like you did that October day. “Of course I still love you Simon Riley.” He can’t stop himself from closing the gap between the two of you as tears spill from both of your eyes and kiss you.

”I love you Simon Riley.” You kiss his cheeks, “I love you.” You kiss his forehead, “And I’ll keep loving you for eternity.” Simon melts with each kiss you give him and sighs when you kiss his lips again. His large hands find your waist and tug you closer, his thick thigh parting yours as his tongue swipes at your bottom lip. You happily part your lips for him, your hands gripping his shoulders as his tongue explores your mouth and a needy moan leaves you. Your heart aches still and tears keep slipping down your face because he’s here. Simon Riley is alive and has been for years. The relief is almost enough to make you forgive him on the spot.

You’re taken by surprise when he kisses you, it's gentle and some tears slip between your connected lips. You don’t even realize that either you or him has started to cry but you return his kiss, trying to keep him this close for as long as you can without breathing. His hands tug you closer, if he could tear open his ribs and stuff you in there instead of his heart and lungs, he would. When you finally pull away, tears still running down your cheeks, you look at him. Tears run down his cheeks too and wet the fabric of his shirt now that they’re not being caught between your lips and spread between your cheeks and his. “Say it again.” He croaks and you repeat it.

Maybe you are forgiving him in a way, not fully. God knows that it will take a lot more than just this to make you forgive him but it's a start. And it’s a start you desperately need, your fingers dig into him further which pulls a groan from him. Immediately you loosen your grip on him, fearing that you’ve hurt him until he pulls away completely breathless and with pupils so wide there’s hardly any brown left, “Don’t stop doing that.” He leans in and whispers against the shell of your ear. It sends goosebumps rising up on your skin as you dig your fingers back into him right as his mouth connects with yours again.

He rests a hand on the back of your neck to keep you close and connected to him. You feel like a teenager again when he slips one of his thick thighs between your own and you grind down on it nearly out of pure instinct. The pressure of your pants seam pressing against your clit makes your legs weak and a liquid warmth to pool. You do it again and you moan into the kiss, his other hand which he had used to cup your cheek immediately went to your hip and grabbed it. He doesn’t try to stop you, instead he encourages you to grind against his thigh. He mutters something against your lips and it comes out muffled but it sounds like, “Take what you need love.” And you’re not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

You grind against him, a little harder this time which causes your entire body to jolt as the electric pleasure shoots up your spine. His hand on the back of your neck tangles itself into your hair and he pulls away only barely so he can catch his breath. You’re left breathless and panting as you grind against his thigh, he rests his forehead against yours and his eyes focus on you using his thigh. “Fuck.” He mutters as his hand on your hip moves up and cups your chest. “I’m sorry.” He whispers and you furrow your brows, your pace faltering at his words.

”Did I do something wrong?”

“No! No, I’m sorry fo’ bein’ such a twat.” He says and pushes his thigh back against you. Your head tips back as a moan leaves your throat and you resume your previous pace. He gropes and paws at your chest, trying to pinch and twist at your hardened nipples from over the fabric of your shirts. “Love, please let me- let me push your shirt up.” He begs and you immediately give your consent. He doesn’t waste another second and pushes your shirt up as far as it would go then he grumbles something to himself before he pulls it over your head and discards it nearby.

He dips his head down and immediately takes a nipple into his mouth while his hand squeezes the other breast. He sucks on it, laving his tongue over it like a dog and letting his teeth graze it slightly when he figures out it makes your hips jolt. You tighten your grip on his shoulders as your thighs tense up and you desperately keep rocking your hips against his thigh. “Si-Simon I’m cl-“ You’re cut off by your own moan when he switches nipples and when he looks up at you between blonde lashes your orgasm washes over you. Your hips stutter and your entire body jolts once or twice as you soak your underwear. Simon swears at the sight of your mouth falling open and your head tipping back to expose your entire neck.

His fingers are nimble as he unbuttons your pants, he hooks his thumbs under the waistband of both the pants and your underwear then yanks them down. “Let me? Please let me make you feel good.” He begs and you nod, mind still trying to piece itself back together after the first orgasm. He shuffles under the covers and it’s kind of funny to see the bottom half of his body sticking out but the sight of it is pulled away from you as he yanks you further down the mattress.

”Simon-“ You yelp before it’s cut away into a moan. There’s no preamble or teasing, likely because he feels like he’s going to die if he doesn’t have his mouth on your cunt now, before he buries his face in it. You grab at the blankets, your mouth falling open as you moan when his tongue flicks your engorged clit. He can’t seem to decide if he wants to focus on your clit or your pulsing hole, dipping his tongue down to slurp up your juices before returning to your clit. He’s desperate, his hands are gripping your thighs like you might try and pull away despite your moans and pleads for more filling the safe house.

He eases one thick finger into you as he sucks on your clit and you see stars in your vision. “Like that- oh my god- like that please don’t stop.” You whimper as your fingers card through his hair. You moan and start to squirm a little as he begins to pump his thick digit in and out of you. He seems to be searching for something, trying different things and sticking to the one that makes you keen the loudest. He crooks his finger just right and your thighs tense up around his head as a moan tears through your throat.

Like the sniper that he is, he focuses on that spot within your increasingly soaked cunt as he tortures your clit with his mouth. The slurping sounds have your cheeks heating up and you squirm as he pushes a second finger into you with no resistance. He rubs against that soft spot inside you that causes your body to relax further and pins down your hips when you try to squirm away from his tongue.

“Simon- nngh- that feels so-“ You can barely string together a sentence as he seems intent on rendering you boneless and incapable of speech as he abuses your g-spot. You feel a tightness growing within your abdomen, like something is winding up before it lets go. It barely registers in your brain that you’re on the verge of cumming. Simon must feel it too, with the way your pussy clamps down around his fingers, because he redoubles his efforts. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as your pussy pulses without a rhythm and you’re thrown over the edge. The muscles in your thighs clench involuntarily as the pleasure runs through you. He keeps rubbing at that spot through your orgasm, his fingers soaked in your slick as you twitch a little from the aftershocks.

You try to move upwards when he eases a third finger into you but he holds you down. “It’s too much.” You choke out as he crawls up your body, leaving a trail of sticky wet kisses. “Si please.” You hiccup as he begins to work you open with those three fingers.

”Got to work you open love.” He mutters reassuringly before capturing your lips in a kiss. He swallows down your moans like the greedy man he is, keeping all of these sounds for himself. He doesn’t care if the two of you are the only people around for miles upon miles, he doesn’t even want the walls to know your sounds in case they ever learn to talk. You whine at his words and a hand grabs his bicep as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. The stretch of three of his fingers is delicious, just that slight sting that ebbs away the more he finger fucks you.

It feels like he rips the next orgasm out of you, your entire body tenses as it slams into you. You feel yourself gush on his thick fingers and he keeps going, keeps fucking you through it until your pushing at his arm and pleading for a moment of reprieve. It’s only until tears gather in your eyes that he finally stops. Simon peppers your face in kisses while he whispers that he’s sorry. He promises that he’ll do right by you this time, no more running away or disappearing. He swears it as you unbuckle his pants and pulls them down. There’s a noticeable wet patch on his boxers but you don’t comment on it, just pull those down as well. Your mouth waters and your eyes widen when you see his cock.

It's thick, uncut and long. The tip is red from neglect and drips pre-cum like a leaky faucet. His cock is heavy that it hangs low and his brown eyes are filled with lust as he watches you reach down and wrap your hand around his length. “That’s not going to fit.” You finally whisper out, meeting his eyes which crinkle from the cocky smile on his face.

He leans down, body draping over yours. You can feel his body heat rolling off him in waves as he takes his cock from your hands and lines up the bulbous tip with your cunt. He strokes it a few times with his slick coated fingers as he looks you in the eyes before whispering, “I’ll make it fit.” When he pushes it, he does it slowly. You can feel every ridge, every pulsing vein of his cock against your walls. Despite having stretched you with three of his fingers before hand and making you cum twice the sting remains. It’s a sweet burn, a delicious heat that licks from your hips up to the back of your skull. It grounds you to the moment as his fingers dig into you as his hips meet yours, bottoming out in you he lets out a low moan. His eyes flicker down to where the two of you meet and he licks his lips at the sight.

He pulls back just a little and the squelch that comes from your cunt when he pushes back in makes your face hot. He leans down and grabs your uninjured thigh. He hooks his arm around it and forces it up as he cages your body between his arms. You grab onto his shoulder and bicep, your eyes can’t seem to leave his as he thrusts in and out of you. The pace isn’t fast but his hips snap against yours, the sound of skin on skin fills the room and mixes with each noise pulled from you. Simon swallows the lump in his throat as he supports himself on one arm and cups your cheek, his thumb swiping something away. You sniffle and reach your hands up to his face, you try to drink his face. The same face you thought you would never see as tears roll down your cheeks and his cock fills you past the point of full.

“I love you.” You say between hiccups and moans. You watch as his eyes water and he buries his face within the crook of your neck. He mouths at the sweaty skin there and whispers that he loves you back. That he loves you so much it hurts and that he’s sorry. He repeats it over and over again with each roll of his hips and that feeling within your stomach grows again quickly. With each snap of his hips you feel yourself getting closer and more tears leak from your eyes. You cum again with his name on your lips and feel his hips stutter and loose pace. He grinds up against you, nudging your cervix in a way that causes a slight pinch within your lower abdomen that makes you clench down harder on him.

You feel him cum, you hear his groan right next to your ear as his hips come to a complete stop and pressed against the meat of your thighs. His sticky warm cum fills you, the feeling is odd. Foreign but not entirely unwelcome as he stays in that position after letting your thigh rest back down onto the mattress. You twist your head to the side and give him a quick kiss, “Say it again?” He whispers.

”I love you.”

Simon lets out a shaky sigh, the relief he feels is palpable, “I love you too.”

It’s not all that surprising that he can’t keep his hands off you and you’re not innocent either. After seemingly fucking all of your anger towards him out, the two of you cling to each other. He rocks his hips into your again, every movement lighting up your nerves in a way that seems never ending. Like this pleasure will swallow you whole but you don’t mind, it hides the twinges of pain from your thigh from being pressed so close to your chest. You kiss all of his face, soft moans from both of you mixing together into a melody.

”How long until someone is able to get us?” You ask later while you lay on his chest and trail your fingers up and down his abdomen. You’re exhausted, barely able to keep your eyes open and the heat between the two of you is slowly lulling you further into sleep.

”The radio said they’ll be here tomorrow.” Simon replies and you mindlessly hum.

”What will happen when we leave?” You ask, “When all of this is over.”

”We’ll figure it out.” he murmurs and kisses you. “Rest up love.” You’re not surprised, actually delighted, when he wakes you up with kisses on your neck. He trails down from your jaw, nipping occasionally at the soft flesh which earns a wanton moan from you.

”Happened to resting?” You tease and he chuckles against you.

”Oops.” He says and it would be convincing if you couldn’t feel his smile. Simon’s hands trail down your naked body and he pushes two fingers back into your sopping wet cunt. You gasp and arch your back, eyes fluttering closed as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “You’re so wet.” He groans, like he still can’t believe that you still want him. “Never going to let you go again.” He promises as he begins to abuse that soft part inside you.

Simon kisses your nose and you chuckle. “Excited?” You ask and he nods. It’s been two years since that mission when everything changed again. Two years since you found out Simon Riley never died, that he had refused to die once again. It had taken a little while to figure out what the both of you wanted, therapy helped a lot. It helped you realize that the military lifestyle, despite it being the thing you had only known for the past five years, wasn’t truly for you. Of course you had known that you had only joined in Simon’s memory but therapy helped you let go of it.

God bless John Price, bless him for being utterly professional despite two of his soldiers fucking which has to be the most unprofessional thing to do in the military. He looked at you with that smile that made his eyes crinkle when you placed the discharge paperwork on his desk that day 8 months ago. “Finally figured out what you want then?” He asked as he immediately signed off on it, not even bothering to read through it.

”Yeah, I have, Captain.” You said with a fond smile, you’d miss this. You’d miss him, Gaz and Soap but it wasn’t like they couldn’t come and see you when on leave. You’d only be an hour away in a nearby city anyways. You glance at the two keys in your hand, one for you and one for Simon. You place the second one into his palm. “Let’s go see our home then.” You pick up the cat carrier and Mittens meows in protest. You coo your reassurances to her, promising that it’s almost over. The three of you climb the steps up the porch of the townhouse you now own and Simon unlocks the door.

You glance around the currently empty space then glance behind you to the moving truck parked out on the side of the street. “I think it might take us a day to get everything in here.” You say when you turn to look at Simon

”I’d say two.” Simon says as he takes the cat carrier from your hands and sets it down next to the stairs. You quirk an eyebrow up and part your lips in an ‘o’ shape when you realize what’s on his mind.

”Really Riley?” You ask as you loop your arms around his neck and he chuckles as your expression.

”I’ve always wanted to bend you over a countertop.” He purrs as he tugs his mask down and plants a kiss on your neck which sends shivers down your spine.

”Is that so?” You ask as he backs you up against it after closing the front door. He hoists you up on top of it with a ‘mhm’ before he captures your lips in a kiss and his hands settle on your hips.

You grasp at the edge of the counter, moans being punched out of you with each thrust of his hips. The sound of skin on skin echoes in the house and mixes with his groans. Simon’s fingers dig a little harder into your hips, enjoying the sight of how your fat squishes up between his fingers. “You’re so fuckin’ stunning.” And all you can respond with is a moan as his fat cock abuses the tip of your cervix. “I’m gonna retire.” He babbles and his words hardly register in your mind as you begin to clench down on him as a sign you’re on the precipice of an orgasm. He loops a hand around and rubs mean circles around your clit which sends you falling off the edge.

He swears as your cunt clenches down on him like a vice and he spills himself in you all while he keeps rubbing at your clit. You lay there panting, trying to gather your senses as you blink away the tears of overstimulation once his hand falls away. You gasp and gulp down the air, “Simon?”

”Fuck I said that out loud didn’t I?”

You can’t help but giggle and shake your head. “You mean it?”

”Yeah, I mean it. I’m gonna look into retiring, I can’t be a soldier forever.” He rests his sweaty forehead against your back as he speaks.

”I love you so much Simon Riley.”

His hand reaches out and loops through yours, the matching rings on your fingers glinting in the light. “I love you too.”

[heavenlyvision]

Begrudgingly betrothed

Word count: 23.6k

Pairing: Kuai Liang x F!Reader

A/N: It is done, I am sorry it took so long but as you can see, it is my longest fic so far !!! I may have gotten carried away but I am quite proud of this monstrosity of a fic so, please enjoy <33

Summary:  There has been arrangements for you to marry a good friend of yours and you weren’t included in the discussion, now you have to come to terms with wedding a man you don’t love, understand why you have been put in this situation and learn to enjoy leaving home and living somewhere new.  

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, virgin!reader, dirty talk, dry humping, thigh fucking, fingering, cunnilingus,  minor dacryphilia, tiny bit of size kink (if you squint), tease!Kuai, mentions of panic attacks, reader has both a mother and father, I think that is all !! <3

MDNI

This is… not an ideal situation for you. You have just been made aware, not asked, made aware, of the fact that you will be marrying Kuai Liang of the Shirai Ryu. It has been arranged between your family and the clan, and they both left you out of the conversation. To be fair, it could be worse, you know Kuai and have for a bit now but you did not foresee this coming. The shock of the situation and neglect to include you in the conversation is what has you upset the most.

Also, the fact that Kuai didn’t mention this to you at all? Is odd, you are close with him and you’ve always thought of him as your good friend, so to have him not bring up being arranged to marry him, at all… is upsetting and suspicious. But in the end, it’s not like what you think matters, considering this has already been decided for you and you’d really rather not kick up a fuss. It wouldn’t end well for you.

Picking your battles is smart, it’s a philosophy you live by and going against your father… is a battle you would not win, not this time anyways. You can tell, when he looks you in the eyes to tell you what is happening, he is not concerned with your feelings, he is only telling you the reality of what is going to happen.

At least it is not a stranger but somehow it’s not that much better, since Kuai didn’t tell you. You suppose, he probably has his reasons but you can’t get over being passed around like property, it’s sad, it makes you sad that your father is casting you off so easily and it also makes you sad that Kuai is, compliant with it, at the very least.

“This is something that will be happening,” your fathers voice is stern, even.

You look him in the eyes, firm, resolute, “I am aware and I will not resist but that does not mean I am happy, and I will not lie and say I am either.”

He is unmoved by your voiced displeasure, “You will do whatever makes this process go smoothly and you will do what you are told.”

You feel, so much right now but your face remains emotionless, unwilling to break in front of your father, “Fine but I am going to tell you right now, to me, this is unforgivable.”

Your father raises a brow at you, feeling no sympathy, “I do not need your forgiveness, I have done nothing wrong.”

He is unbelievable, so you tell him, “I hope one day, you will see how wrong you are but for now I will live with the fact that you have cast off your only daughter to be wed without her consent.”

“And I hope one day, you understand my actions and realise you are being a petulant child,” he retorts.

You ignore him and his rude statement, “If there is nothing further to be discussed, I would like to leave.”

He waves a dismissive hand at you, “Yes, fine, leave.”

Standing to your feet, you leave the formal dining area. He had asked you there under false pretences, you had expected a nice afternoon chat with your dad over tea and instead he dropped this bomb on you. After you shut the door, you head towards the garden, needing fresh air and solace to collect your thoughts. This is going to be a… trying couple of weeks.

The garden is quiet, you sit on an old wooden bench, looking out towards all the greenery. It’s a nice garden, your mother has worked hard on tending to it, the flowers are beautiful, at least they usually are. None of the flowers are blooming at the moment, dead or dormant for the colder months. It fills you with a sense of melancholy to know you are not going to see this garden as frequently after your marriage.

You’re facing the entrance currently and so you can see when Kuai Liang is making his way towards you. Normally, you would be pleased to see him but after the news you’ve just received, you are… maybe not unhappy to see him but certainly not excited either and he can tell as much when he looks to you, his demeanour sheepish as he approaches.

“I’m guessing your father has told you,” he says, standing in front of you.

You look up to him, “You mean that we have new tea?” you say sardonically before continuing, “Or maybe you are referring to the fact that I am supposed to be marrying you within the next few weeks, something that has been in the works for a couple of weeks without my knowledge and not only that but the fact that this will result in me having to leave my home and move somewhere unfamiliar, with people I do not know well?” Your face displays no extreme emotions but your tone is filled with threatening politeness.

There’s a few moments of silence, Kuai only looks at you, not knowing what to say to make this better and to be quite frank, there is nothing that will make you feel better at this current moment.

Your expression changes to a more easy going one, “Yes, he told me.”

Kuai sighs, “He was meant to wait for me, I wanted to speak with you first.”

“Well, that is where you went wrong,” you wave a hand at him, explaining, “He has to be the one to do things first, he was never going to let you tell me this.” Your father has an odd complex, he has the only say in things and he will be the first one to inform others of what they are to do. ‘Orders’ come from him and him alone.

Distantly, you wonder if he told you first because it will be the last ‘order’ he can give you before you are given away to another man. This is gross, it feels like swapping handlers, you feel as though you have no freedom and that all the times your father had told you, that you were so much more than just a woman, just a future wife, were lies. Like he meant none of it.

It feels as though, the relationship with your father will never be the same again and coming to terms with that is going to be hard.

You pat the spot beside you on the bench, “Sit down.”

“Thank you,” Kuai replies, sitting cautiously beside you.

It’s awkward between the two of you, mostly because you can tell Kuai has more to say but you won’t even look in his direction, which is making it hard for him to gain an opening to talk. It feels mean, but you know what else feels mean? Getting betrothed to a friend and not being told, even though he knew it was happening.

You sigh beside him, “Kuai, are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” he doesn’t hesitate in answering.

“What about you and Harumi?” You were pretty sure they had something going on between the two of them.

He’s looking at you, “What about her?”

Your eyes stay forward but you really want to look at him and roll them dramatically, “What do you mean ‘what about her’? Everyone was pretty sure you two were going to wed.”

He turns his own face forward, looking out to the garden, “We are just friends, nothing more.”

“Be honest with yourself Kuai, I don’t want to be the reason you miss your chance at love.” You feel empty, this isn’t how you wanted to marry and it will suck even more if Kuai doing this causes him to miss out on love.

He is unconcerned by your hesitations, his tone even when he speaks, “I do not feel that way, not for Harumi.”

“But you feel that way for someone?” He doesn’t reply, “My concern is still warranted then.” You finish, his silence a clear indication that he feels some type of way for someone.

He wavers for a moment, going to say something before deciding against it.

You talk before him, making yourself clear, “If you still want to go through with this, in spite of your feelings for someone else, then that is fine. I will do whatever is asked of me but I want you to know… I think you should marry the person you love.”

Kuai stands up from the bench, his back to you, “Your concern is noted.” Is all he says before he walks away.

You’re left in the garden by yourself, Kuai has walked off, assumedly leaving for the day, he seemed to be getting annoyed at your pushing. The mention of him not marrying the person he loves probably displeasing him, which is fair but he also has the power to stop this from happening. This is all very confusing for you, no one even told you it was happening and now it seems like both your father and Kuai are neglecting to tell you everything. Neglecting to tell you the things that would have all of this making sense. Typical men.

At least the air around you is fresh, cold, but fresh and it’s helping to calm you down. Both the conversations between Kuai and your father not going well has upset you but at least the cool breeze is relieving, it’s what you need to gather yourself before moving forward. You’ll just have to look on the bright side… which you will do, when you find out what the bright side is. Because so far there doesn’t seem to be anything bright about this situation but maybe that is just your bad mood talking.

You stay in the garden for a while, thinking about all the things that are about to change for you. The actual wedding won’t be for a few weeks but that doesn’t mean you get to stay here; your father informed you that you have one week left here and then you are to be moved to the Shirai Ryu village. An upsetting fact but you will cope, at least you will know some of the people there. And by some, you mean Tomas, Raiden and Harumi, everyone else is a stranger but it’s better than nothing.

₊ ⊹

When you head back to the house, everyone is waiting at the dinner table for you and by everyone, you mean Kuai is also sat at the table. He had stayed, apparently and now you have to sit through a very uncomfortable dinner with your mother, father and Kuai – your soon to be husband.

Sighing lightly and mostly to yourself, you move to your usual spot, sat across from Kuai, your mother and father sit at either end of the table. Judging by the atmosphere of the room already, this is going to be a long dinner.

Looking to Kuai, you can’t read much about how he is feeling. He is stoic and looks to be calm, but you can’t tell if he really feels that way or if everything he is feeling, is occurring internally. His eyes lock onto yours and you hold his gaze, wanting to challenge him, his eyes are unmoving and firm. You keep looking at him but you need to blink, you try holding out for as long as you can before your eyes start to water and you have to close them.

When you look back at him, one of his brows are raised humorously at you, entertained by your poor attempt at a staring competition. It wasn’t your initial intent to try and start a staring contest, only wanting to display your irritation for this situation but now you’re even more annoyed that you couldn’t get him to blink before you. You aren’t even convinced he’s blinked yet, weirdo.

Scowling lightly, you look away from him and down to your food. Your parents have been talking but you haven’t really been listening, all your attention was on Kuai Liang and his stupid face. Why he has stayed eludes you but you’re sure you will find out soon enough, it’s too late for him to leave now, he’ll probably stay the night and he’ll probably want to speak with you again before he leaves, presumably tomorrow.

“Are you paying attention to me?” Your fathers voice booms from the head of the table.

Your posture shoots up and your head flicks in his direction to look at him, you don’t know how to tell him you weren’t. He seems very angry, he’s never raised his voice like that to you before, his behaviour is starting to distress you.

Kuai speaks for you, trying to help, “It was my fault, I was distracting her.”

Your father is displeased though, you can tell by the way the corner of his eye twitches slightly and how his mouth pulls up, he goes to say something but your mother talks over him, “Now, I think that is quite enough, let’s eat and they can talk later, hmm?” She poses it like a question but it isn’t one, she’s telling him what to do right now and he concedes, like he most often does when it comes to your mother.

Dinner is silent and uncomfortable and you want to rip your eyes out of your head because this is the worst thing you’ve had to sit through. Last time you felt like this was when your parents had been arguing for weeks straight and then suddenly stopped, choosing to punish each other silently instead… which was somehow, way worse than the yelling and bickering.

You chance a glance up to Kuai and he’s already looking at you, his eyes are sympathetic to you and how uncomfortable you must feel but you feel worse for him. This isn’t his house or his family, it must be incredibly painful to try and eat dinner with a family that is currently annoyed with each other.

Taking initiative, you push back from your seat, “I’d like to talk with Kuai now, privately.” You squint at your father, frustration with him palpable.

“Thank your mother for dinner first,” he mumbles out.

Turning to your mother, you graciously say, “Thank you for dinner, it was lovely.”

“You’re very welcome,” she smiles and scrunches her nose at you affectionately.

As you round behind her chair, you kiss the top of her head before grabbing Kuai’s hand and tugging him off after you, he makes sure to thank your parents as he’s pulled along. You don’t look back and continue dragging him behind you, leading him to your room. It will be quiet there and you can maybe get some answers out of him.

“Where are you taking me?” He’s being pliant, letting you continue to lead him, even though he very easily could get you to stop in your tracks.

You try ignoring him but he tugs back a bit, showing you just how easily he could stop complying with you. Groaning and without looking back at him, you say, “My room.”

He stops all at once and your back collides with his chest. He doesn’t move though, not even taking a step back from you falling into him. He leans down behind you, mouth next to your ear, “Is that appropriate?”

His voice is deep and sets you on edge, a shiver threatening to run down your spine at the low timbre of his voice. You suppress it as best you can before turning your face to the side, both of you close like this. You thought he would pull away from you but he doesn’t, he doesn’t move an inch. His eyes are lidded as he looks at you, it feels like his gaze is burning through you.

Your head flicks forward, not able to handle the way he was looking at you just now, all the blood in your body feels like it’s rushed to your face. He pulls away from you, a hand landing on your shoulder. You gather yourself quickly and tell him, “It is appropriate, I have questions and you have answers.”

One of your hands grabs his from your shoulder and you walk off again, he trails silently behind you this time, letting you drag him around. His hand is very warm, warmer than before, he’d be handy to have close by this winter. You suppose that could be a bright side, you’re marrying a pyromancer in the middle of winter. It’s not much but the thought makes you smile.

When you approach your room, you open the door to let him in first and tell him to sit anywhere. You follow in behind him, shutting the door and turning to look at him. He is awkwardly standing in the middle of your room; he seems to be having trouble deciding where to sit. You watch him struggle for a bit, before he seemingly decides to just stand.

Laughing to yourself, you walk up to him and push on his chest, he walks back until his legs hit the edge of your bed, “Sit.” You tell him.

He sits down, carefully, eyes looking up into yours, “You are demanding.”

You roll your eyes at him and move across the room, when you come back, you’re dragging a chair you had kept in the corner. You place it in front of him and sit down, crossing one leg over the other. His eyes watch the way your legs move before looking back to you.

Kuai’s frame is still, not moving and very clearly not relaxed. It’s funny, looking at this large man sit uncomfortably on your bed. He shuffles a bit from side to side, trying to make the best of his situation.

“Do you want the chair?” You ask, taking pity on him.

He looks to you, “I am fine…”

You get up anyways and move over to him, offering your hand to pull him up. He takes it but pulls you down beside him instead, your outer thigh is pressed against his. You jostle against him a bit, the mattress bouncing lightly with your weight and the force of Kuai’s pull.

You pull your hand from his and gently slap at his shoulder, “What was that for?”

“I told you I was fine.”

“Whatever, go sit in the chair,” you huff out.

“No, I am comfortable here,” he says, amused as you sigh exasperatedly at him.

You cave, letting him do whatever he wants, “Fine.”

“What did you want to know?” He asks, redirecting the conversation.

Your posture slouches a bit, already wanting the conversation to be over, “Why didn’t you tell me? That I am to marry you?” you pause for a moment before continuing, “You have known for weeks now, I see you every week and have done for a while now. Did you not think this was something I would have liked to know about?”

He thinks for a moment, on how to phrase his words, “You deserved to know… but I did not have much of a choice.”

That confuses you, so you clarify, “In getting engaged to me?”

He shakes his head as he answers quickly, “No, no that is my choice… it was not my choice to keep it from you, your father decided that.” He doesn’t look thrilled by your fathers choice.

Your voice feels small, “You could have told me anyways.”

“No, I could not have. You are amazing…” he places a hand on your knee and squeezes,

You squint at him, “I feel a ‘but’ coming.”

“But, you are… confrontational?” He sees the way you frown at him when he describes you that way and corrects himself, “Or maybe curious is a better word… you would have wanted to speak with your father as soon as I told you.”

Looking away, you mumble out to him, “If you were worried about my father… I would not have told him, that you told me.”

“It was important to him that I say nothing, he wanted to speak with you… well, together but I suppose he decided against that in the end.” He’s trying to be gentle with you, his voice warm.

Facing him again, your eyes are filled with emotions and you can’t help it, “I am still very confused, he… he never had any intentions of marrying me off.”

“All I can tell you is that he does now, I don’t know what changed for him but I had heard he was looking for… possible suitors for you,” Kuai’s face scrunches up in distaste.

Your voice shakes with your question, “He was going to marry me off to… anyone?”

“I am sure not just anyone… but he was looking, yes.”

Your eyes well with tears, not only are you being given away without regard for your own feelings but he wasn’t even going to… he wasn’t even going to marry you to someone you knew.

Kuai grabs the side of your face tenderly, forcing eye contact between the two of you. A tear slips down your cheek and his thumb rubs it away, stroking your cheek gently. “I know… I know you may be upset with me and maybe what I’ve done is wrong but I offered– I insisted that I be the one you marry.”

Kuai marrying you, Kuai asking to marry you, is a kindness. A favour he is doing for you, to prevent a marriage between yourself and a stranger and as upset as you are with him, you are more upset with your father. Especially since, right now it feels as though Kuai is your only ally.

Your lip quivers a bit, trying to hold back more tears. He shushes you and pulls you to him, his warm arms wrapping around your body and holding you close, keeping you safe. One of his hands rests on the back of your head, stroking it, attempting to comfort and calm you. You reciprocate his hug, wrapping your own arms around his frame and pulling him closer, he feels sturdy and reliable.

“It’s going to be okay, I have you,” he mumbles into the top of your head and you believe him.

He holds you until you pull away from him first, once you’re no longer worried about crying, you sit back properly and wipe at your eyes, “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for… I know this is hard for you,” his expression is sympathetic to you.

“I just… wish he had explained his reasoning more, maybe then it wouldn’t feel so out of the blue,” you sigh out before flopping back on the mattress, tired from the events of today. Your forearm covers your eyes as you lay down.

Kuai hums out to you in mindless agreement but doesn’t say anything further, his lack of a real response confuses you and when you uncover your eyes, you see he’s already looking at you. His eyes move up your stretched out body, silently watching you.

“Kuai Liang,” you call out to him, louder than your last sentence.

The shock of your voice contrasted against the quiet room has his eyes flicking back to yours, “What did you say?”

Something occurs to you and you sit up beside him again, he’s surprised by your sudden movements, eyes widening slightly. You turn to him completely, one of your legs crossed on the mattress.

“Kuai…” you hesitate to ask him your question but he hums at you to continue, “Am I… are we going…” he raises a brow at you, confused as to what you’re trying to ask him, “Do we have to kiss? For the ceremony?” You finally manage to get out.

He stifles a chuckle at your question, “Not if you don’t want to, it’s not necessary… you know that.”

Your mouth pulls to the side, considering things for a moment. He is right, it isn’t necessary but now you’re a little concerned about your future and what it means to be married to Kuai, “I haven’t… I’ve not been kissed.”

“Ever?” He seems taken aback by your confession.

You huff out, “I didn’t tell you to get made fun of, Kuai,” You told him because you’re worried about later, you’ve not had a lot of firsts and if you marry him, you want to respect that, you won’t be looking at others while married to him. You’re just, you’re in a predicament right now.

Before you can convey your concerns in a sensical manner though, he asks, “Do you want me to kiss you?”

You’re shocked by his offer, and also tempted. You suppose you aren’t really going to have many opportunities at intimacy after the marriage, not unless you ask Kuai, the thought has your face burning up.

You feel shy, “Do you mind?”

“Not in the slightest,” he assures you, “Though, if you want me to kiss you, you’ll have to ask for it.”

His words and demeanour set you on edge, his eyes are watching you very closely. Watching how you fidget, “Would you kiss me?” You feel embarrassed and very hot in the face but you add, “Please?”

His expression turns smug and it makes your heart skip a beat, “Since you asked so nicely,” he turns to face you properly and reaches forward, one of his hands grasps your face, the other resting on your knee.

He leans in but you hesitate and he holds still, “I don’t know what I am doing.”

“That’s fine,” His breath fans across your lips, “I will show you.”

Is he trying to kill you? He might kill you, his words and his proximity to you, it’s setting your skin on fire, “Okay.”

“Good,” he murmurs, before leaning in again. You don’t move away this time and he presses his lips to yours.

He’s warm and his lips are soft, you mimic what he’s doing. The kiss is light and tender, he seems to be feeling you out, getting a sense for you. Your hands reach out to him, of their own provocation and wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. He hums against you, his own hand on your knee is gripping your skin tighter.

He tilts your head to the side, the hand on your knee wanders higher, landing on your thigh and squeezing there. The grip he has further up your thigh makes you gasp and he licks into your mouth, the feeling new and overwhelming. He’s overpowering all of your senses and an involuntary whimper is pulled from your chest at the way he’s kissing you.

He grunts back at you, his thumb pushes into the hinge of your jaw, forcing your mouth open more. Giving himself more access to you, he’s taking your breath away, kissing you dizzy. You want to rub your thighs together for friction but with the way you’re sitting, it’s not possible. His palm against your leg is hot and it keeps moving further up, now grasping the fattest part of your thigh.

A moan slips past your lips to his and you pull him closer to you, he groans into your mouth. The kiss is hot and needy now, borderline messy. He pulls back momentarily, only to push your back into the mattress. His form follows right after, holding himself over the top of you. His lips are on yours before you can form a coherent thought, his tongue in your mouth again.

His hand grips at your thigh, pulling it upwards and resting it against his hip, not moving more than that. You reach up and tug at his shirt, pulling him onto you, your leg crooks around his side and pulls his hips to yours. The contact has a whiney gasp pulled from you and Kuai fights every urge in his bones to grind down into you.

Your arms loop around his neck again and you get lost in his kiss, in the closeness of his body. He groans deeply against you, as if he’s in pain. The sound shocks you and you pull back from him, your foreheads resting against each other as you huff shallow breaths.

“Are you okay?” You’re worried you did something wrong, or that you’ve hurt him somehow.

He shakes his head against yours, “Mm fine, you didn’t do anything wrong.” His voice is strained.

You sit for a second longer before you realise what had happened and it sets your face alight, “I’m sorry,” you rush out.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He repeats, voice still strained, laced with lust.

You had grinded up into him absentmindedly, your mind dazed and looking for friction, resulting in you rutting up into him without thinking. His cock is firm and heavy against you, pulsing with need.

You go to apologise again but he puts his mouth on yours, silencing what you were going to say with a deep kiss. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead on yours again, “You did nothing wrong.” He reiterates.

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, you have nothing to compare it to but you have a feeling that kisses like that are hard to come by. “You’re a really good kisser.”

He looks down at you, amused by your comment, “How would you know?”

“Should I find someone else to kiss? To compare it to?” You tease him.

His gaze is firm, “No, you’re going to be my wife, the only person you will be kissing in the future… will be me.”

The words are possessive, and you think if you weren’t so delirious from his lips on yours, you would argue back against him but at the moment, you think you’re okay with never kissing anyone else, “Okay.”

He smirks at you, enjoying the look in your eyes. They’re wet and needy and he’s getting a lot of pleasure from seeing you like this, for him.

His lips are shiny from the kiss you shared and you can’t look away, wanting so badly for him to put his mouth back on yours, “Can you kiss me again?”

He doesn’t move and only looks at you, “I can.”

A few beats pass by in the quiet room, the only sound you’re able to recognise is the rapid beating of your own heart pumping blood through your head. He still doesn’t move, just watches you, you can’t tell if he’s having an internal conflict or if he’s teasing you. It’s starting to frustrate you though, and to ‘punish’ him for his inaction, the leg you have around his waist pulls him into you harder. Grinding him down into you, the feeling has you gasping, your breath stuttering in your chest.

Kuai groans at you but he also frowns, his hips dig into yours harder and pins your lower half to the bed. He gives you dark look, “Don’t.”

You don’t reply to him, your chest moving quickly with your huffed breaths. He watches you and the way you’re breathless for him, the look on your face and the warmth of your pussy through all the layers has him salivating. He is barely hanging on by a thread, his sanity shredding the longer he has his cock pressed tight against you.

His forehead drops to rest on top of yours, his lips ghosting your own, you move to press your mouth to his. A light kiss, it’s only a peck, it’s all he gives you but you want so much more, you’re hooked on his mouth, drunk on his kisses.

You almost beg him, “Kuai, please–”

He cuts you off with his mouth on yours, his lips urgent and needy, the kiss hot and heavy. Your brain buzzes, lost in the way he licks into your mouth, at the way one of his hands grab the plush skin of your thigh, his other lightly gripping your neck; holding you steady for him. He’s kissing you how he wants too, deeply and fully, taking over all your thoughts, filling your brain with only thoughts of him.

You can’t help the way you throb with need for him, your leg gripping him tighter, wanting him so much closer even though he is as close as he’s going to get. He hums into the kiss at the way you’ve started to grind into him again, your own noises shared in the kiss, small whimpers and quiet whines that he swallows down. Greedy for the small noises you’re making for him.

When he parts from you, you’re both breathless again, your shallow breaths intermingling together with your proximity. Kuai is giving off a thick heat, his skin warm to the touch, his head ducks into your neck and licks you. Ending with a small nip to your skin, he rests his head in the crook of your neck, breathing you in and attempting to catch his breath.

With the way you move under him and the way your leg grips him tight to hold his lower half close, he is going to fall apart on top of you, his head full of depraved thoughts. Wanting so badly to fuck you into the mattress but holding himself back.

“Kuai,” you call to him again.

He groans into your neck, “Shh– just, I need a second.”

You’re confused by what he means, a moment for what? All you want to tell him is how badly you need him right now. “I want you,” your voice is small, as if being quieter will negate the fact that you didn’t give him the moment of silence he asked for.

His hips buck into yours involuntarily, “Fuck–”

A gasp is pulled from you at the friction, Kuai pulls his head from your neck suddenly, pulling back to look at you. His eyes are intense and you turn your head to the side so you feel less exposed to him but his hand grabs the side of your face and pulls it back so you’re looking at him again. He doesn’t move or speak; he’s just enjoying the expression on your face again.

His hips grind down into you and a small moan exits you, you’re unable to supress the sound even if you tried. Kuai’s thumb is on your chin, pulling slightly to ensure any noise you might make comes out.

He slowly grinds into you, the noises you’d rather he not hear slipping from you. You’re burning with need for him, pussy throbbing for more. His brows are pinched together, his breathing huffed, biting his lip to keep the noises that threaten to spill from him suppressed.

Your vision is blurry, tears in your waterline from how badly you want him to do more to you, your eyes pleading with him to just give you more. His hand moves from your chin and his mouth is on yours again, kissing you intensely, his mouth is hot. Everything about him is hot, his temperature so high he’s heating you up.

He rips his mouth from yours and pulls himself up completely, his hands removed from your body and resting himself up on his knees. You’re bewildered by the loss of him and whine, his eyes are on fire as he looks at you below him. Hands clenching into fists beside him, itching to touch you again, to touch your naked skin, to touch every inch of your body.

He’s taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself, “I think we should stop.”

“Why?” Your brows are drawn up at him.

He sighs, “You asked for a kiss and I delivered, we should leave it at that.”

You start pulling yourself off the mattress, weight held up on your elbows, “And if I want to ask for more?”

His eyes hold a warning for you, “Do not.”

You go to argue against him but there are loud footsteps walking to your room, ones you are all too familiar with. Your father is making his way to your room, you look to Kuai with wide eyes and he moves off the bed swiftly, adjusting himself in his pants and smoothing himself out. He’s trying to make it look like he wasn’t just dry humping you, while kissing you stupid.

Moving off the bed, you get to your feet in front of him, he smooths out your hair and clothes for you, his hand holds the side of your face for a moment and his thumb runs over your bottom lip softly. He’s caressing you gently, lost in you for a moment before your fathers loud knocks are suddenly heard on your bedroom door.

Kuai pulls away from you, coming back to himself at the sound of your fathers fist pounding on the wood. Walking around Kuai, you head to the door and open it slightly, enough to see your father but not enough for him to see Kuai further in the room, behind you.

Looking up to your father, you ask, “Yes?”

“I am looking for Kuai Liang, is he still with you?” Your fathers eyes try scanning behind you but there is nothing to see.

“No, he left a bit ago, maybe he is in the bathroom?” You offer as an alternative, trying to get him to leave and go the other way, away from your room.

He hums at you, considering you for a moment, “You know I love you right?”

“I– it doesn’t feel like it right now,” you tell him honestly, your trust in him completely shattered after today.

He looks tired, just so exhausted and like he might apologise, before his facial expression returns to its usual firm manner, “If you see Kuai Liang, let him know, I wish to speak with him.”

“Will do,” you agree hastily, hoping to end this interaction quickly.

He eyes you carefully and then eventually walks away; he seems to have so much to say but doesn’t know how to say it. It isn’t your job to force him to talk, though you might have to if you ever want to know his motivations behind all this. Whatever, it can wait until you aren’t a mess from Kuai.

Shutting the door, you turn around to see Kuai already moving for it to leave and find your father, “You’re going already?”

He pauses and turns to you, “Why?” And then leaning in close, he asks, “Would you like me to stay?” His tone is smug, expression cool and self-pleased.

You look away from him, “If I said yes?”

He sighs, hands coming up to rest on either side of your face, forehead leaning to yours, “I would like to stay.” He takes a moment, “But… I should talk with your father.” He pulls his head away from yours, still holding you in his hands.

Your face scowls at the mention of your father and Kuai’s thumb presses between your brows, massaging to release the tension. You relax your face but are still ultimately pouting at the prospect of him leaving.

He looks at you with a raised brow and you concede to him, “Alright, but try and ask him why it’s suddenly become so important I marry someone.”

“Yes ma’am,” he jokes, eyes lingering on you for a moment.

You aren’t sure why he’s looking at you so seriously but you understand when he leans in and kisses you so very gently, it’s short and only a little more than a peck but it makes your heart swell at how careful he is with you.

He hums when pulling back, “I don’t know if you have been told, but you’re expected to come back with me tomorrow.”

You’re taken aback, “I thought I had one more week?”

“I had asked for it but he changed his mind, earlier today.” He pulls back from you, giving you room to process.

You sigh deeply, feeling empty at this point, “Today has been too much, I’m not sure how to react at this point.”

“I’ll make you as comfortable as I possibly can, I want you to be happy there,” his tone is concerned, genuinely wanting you to be happy with him and with the Shirai Ryu.

You snark out, mostly joking, “I want to have, free will.”

“I will give you as much as I can manage,” he promises.

You tease, leaning towards him, “But kissing others–”

“–Is not on the table.” His tone is stern, expression unamused.

You smile at him sweetly, “I was joking, I will respect our marriage fully and completely”

“Fully and completely? And what exactly does that entail?” His expression is suggestive as he looks at you, subtly moving closer.

You feel nervous but can’t stop yourself from saying, “And if I said anything you wanted?”

“Then I would say, I’d like to test that,” His eyes are dark and lids low as he looks at you, not moving to touch you again but so obviously wanting to.

Your face grows warm under his stare, his voice has a lilt to it that sends shivers down your spine, “Didn’t you have to leave?”

He chuckles lowly at you before grabbing your hand and holding it firmly, “I want you to know… that I will be with you every step of the way and that you can talk to me… about anything.” He squeezes your hand once, in confirmation.

You squeeze his hand back and smile at him kindly, “Thank you… and you know… if you ever have anything you need to talk about, I am here to listen.”

Kuai takes several moments to look at you, and then decides he’s been holding off on leaving you for too long, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

You don’t really know what to say, you want him to stay longer but know he probably shouldn’t, “Yes, we will talk tomorrow, hopefully you will have more answers for me,” you jest, smiling up to him.

“Hopefully,” he squeezes your hand once more, assuring you that he will try to get more information. He leaves after that, going to catch up with your father.

And now, you’re left alone and wanting Kuai. You miss the weight of his body on top of yours, you’re also feeling confused about your feelings for him. He makes you feel warm and the way he kissed you has you wanting to obey his every will. But you are also confused about his feelings for you, his eyes seem so honest but he had said he had feelings for someone else just earlier today and now you aren’t sure what to make of that.

Maybe, you just need to sleep and move on from today, but currently, you are feeling better towards this marriage. Having spent some time with Kuai and spoken with him more casually, you feel better about things. Knowing he had good intentions behind his actions puts you at ease, clearly, since you just about let him hump you into submission.

It’s a little embarrassing that you were about to beg him to fuck you when you hadn’t ever been kissed before, let alone had sex but he has an effect on you that you’ve never experienced and even though you’ve known him for a while now, he’s never been this forward with you. Feeling desire for someone you consider a friend is weird right? You aren’t sure, you’ve never really desired anyone before, not like this.

There is too much swirling around your head. Ranging from, Kuai and his soft lips, his firm hands, his warm skin, his hips grinding into you, along with thoughts of his grip on your thigh, his eyes as he looked at you, his restrained manner of handling you. All your thoughts are currently of him… you need to sleep this off, before your thoughts become more depraved and you hunt him down and ask him so nicely to take you, right now.

Yeah, it’s probably a good idea to turn in for the night.

₊ ⊹

You spend said night tossing and turning in your bed, waking up every few hours just to roll over and be upset that you’ve woken up before an appropriate time, again. When you finally do fall asleep at some ungodly hour in the morning, you’re startled awake what feels like only a few moments later by knocking on your door. You groan out at whoever is there, not ready to get up, not when you had finally fallen asleep.

They don’t knock again, instead just letting themselves into your room, you peak a look and can see it’s your mother. Groaning at her again, you roll over, shuffling further into your sheets; you are not ready to start the day.

“Come on, it’s time to get up,” her tone is soft, trying to coax you out of bed with kindness.

Another groan, “I don’t want to get up, I am tired.”

She sits on the side of your bed and places a hand soothingly on your back, “You… you’re leaving today.”

“I know, Kuai told me last night,” you grumble at her, mood worsening at remembering the sudden change in plans.

Her hand rubs circles into your back, “I couldn’t change your fathers mind, I am sorry.”

It occurs to you, that your mother probably knows what has changed with your father to incur this sudden behavioural change. You shoot up in your bed and face her, “Why is he doing this?”

She hesitates, eyes sad, “He just wants the best for you.”

Your gaze scrutinises her, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“I am telling you everything you need to know,” she replies, smiling at you sombrely before her face changes to a more enthusiastic expression, “Now, come on! time to gather your stuff.”

You flop back onto the mattress at her words, grumbling to yourself, you had forgotten that part of leaving would include… packing.

“It isn’t so bad, take your important belongings and some clothes, your father and I can bring over the rest after the marriage.” She pats your shoulder a couple times and moves around your room, looking for bags to put your stuff in.

Moving to watch her, you realise she’s trying very hard to make this easy on the both of you. Attempting to keep her expression easy and tone joyful but you can tell she is sad you are leaving home, especially so soon.

Sighing, you get up to help her, the least you can do is give her the same courtesy. You decide to offer her some words of comfort, “I will be okay you know? I like Kuai Liang, he is kind and I know some of the people in the Shirai Ryu already. I will adjust.”

She pauses what she’s doing and looks to you, “I know dear, I raised you well,” she flexes her arm at you jokingly, “Be strong and keep your head up. I know you will continue to fill me with pride,” She moves closer to you and places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing once, “You always have.”

Her words have you fighting back tears, you don’t want her to see you cry, you replace the look on your face with a strained smile, “I will do my best.”

“That’s all you ever need to do,” She pulls you into her for a hug, holding you in her embrace for a moment. You aren’t sure which one of you needs this more.

When she pulls back, she claps her hands together once and rubs them, “Alright, let’s get stuck into this.”

Rolling your eyes and supressing a smile you ask, “Where should I start, boss?”

She chuckles at you brightly and directs you on where to begin. It doesn’t take all that long to collect your most important stuff and pack it away. Anything left behind today will be picked up at a later date and even though you’ve not packed everything away, your room looks significantly more bare compared to before.

Your mother stops and looks around, “Well, I think that is about everything you will need for now.”

“Yeah I think this is good,” you smile at her.

She heads for your door, “You still have a bit of time before you have to leave, maybe have a nap, you look very tired.”

Shooting her a light-hearted glare you say, “Wow, I wonder why.”

She just smiles cheekily at you before leaving your room, presumedly going to tend to her plants, the garden may be wilting but she has a greenhouse with copious amounts of flourishing plants and flowers. The winter doesn’t stop her green thumb and it never has.

You listen to her advice though and the first thing you do when alone is get back into bed, not even making it the whole way up, just sort of flopping onto it and staying there. You’ve made yourself comfortable now, there is no way you’re getting up, not unless there’s a fire or something.

A few moments of peace is all you get before there is another knock on your door, “Are you awake?” Speaking of fire, Kuai has come to see you.

You huff face down into the mattress and mumble out, “You can come in.”

“What? I can’t hear you,” his tone is amused.

Grunting you hold your head up so your mouth isn’t pressed into the sheets, “I said, you can come in.” Your tone is exasperated as your head collapses back onto the bed.

The door opens and closes behind you and Kuai stifles a laugh at your body slumped on your mattress, not even bothering to make it to the pillows further up.

“Are you okay?” He asks tentatively, a little worried you’re going to snap at him.

Your words are mumbled again, “Mm fine.”

Kuai moves beside you and flops down too, laying on his back, “I spoke with your father last night,” that catches your attention and your head turns to the side to look at him, “Don’t get excited, he didn’t tell me anything new, just that it was important to him and that it is what’s best for you.”

You scowl at him, unimpressed with your fathers answer, “He’s starting to get on my nerves.”

“Starting?” Kuai asks playfully.

Your scowl deepens, “Whatever, leave me alone. I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“I wonder why that is,” he says smugly, knowing it has something to do with him.

Turning back to the mattress, you hide your face from him, looking at him for too long is becoming your weakness. You can’t help it, he’s the one who looks so kissable, you might need therapy or something, these cannot be normal thoughts to have for a friend. Though, making out with a friend is also not normal? But then again, he is also your soon to be husband, this is all so frustrating.

Suddenly, you remember what you remembered last night, he’s in love with someone else but is marrying you out of kindness. He’s preventing you from marrying a stranger because of his concern for you but now you’re concerned about his happiness. But if he doesn’t like you, why did he kiss you like that? Was he just… in the mood or was he in the mood for you? GODS! men.

You must be grumbling to yourself out loud without realising because Kuai laughs beside you, amused at your internal conflict, “What are you worried about now?”

Sitting up, you tell him, “You actually,” he raises a brow at you, as if to say ‘oh?’, “You said you love someone–”

“–I never said I love someone, you did,” he interjects, also moving to sit up and face you.

You retort back, “But you implied it,” he keeps his mouth shut this time, knowing you’re right, “I am just confused? Worried? I mean… we kissed last night–”

“–I think it was a bit more than a kiss,” he interrupts again.

You look at him and don’t hesitate to say, “…Right, well that kind of adds to my point then doesn’t it?”

“And what is your point?” He’s pushing you to say what you mean.

“If you stopped interrupting me I could get there,” your eyebrow raises at him in admonishment, “I am just… I guess I’m just confused about what you’re feeling… because you love someone else… but then you…” you look away from him, “…You kissed me like that last night and I don’t know how to feel… I don’t know how you feel.” Embarrassment is seeping into every fibre of your being, feeling really exposed at being honest with him.

He intakes a deep breath, “I kissed you like that because I wanted to.”

Turning your head back, you shoot him a pointed look, telling him that what he’s offered is not enough, “Kuai–”

He stops you before you get even more annoyed at him, “–I love you.”

You’re shocked and have no idea how to react to that, “I–”

“–I kissed you like that because I love you and have for a while now,” he’s looking right at you, unashamed by his feelings, “I am not expecting you to feel the same, I am only telling you so you worry less, so you don’t think I am the type of man who kisses someone like that for no reason.” His words are filled with emotion but also stated as fact, he’s informing you of his feelings, not asking anything of you in return.

You heart stutters in your chest and you look like a deer caught in headlights, he doesn’t need you to feel the same but his sudden confession has put the weight of the world on your shoulders.

You calm your nerves to tell him how you feel, “I am not sure how I feel towards you–”

Kuai doesn’t let you finish your sentence, “–I told you; I do not need you to–”

“¬–Could you stop interrupting me?” You look at him exasperatedly, getting tired of not finishing your thoughts, “I am not sure how I feel towards you but I know that I like you… more than a friend, and I wouldn’t have let you kiss me like that if I didn’t.” Your gaze averts his, looking anywhere but his eyes.

He’s smiling to himself, “You like me?”

“I mean… obviously…” you pout slightly.

He hums at you and moves closer, pulling you to his chest by the back of your head, he holds you against him, “I can work with that.”

If he touched your face he would be able to feel the way you’re burning up, his confession and your own making you nervous and embarrassed. This is certainly not how you thought the past couple days would have unfolded but as Kuai holds you to him, you can’t help but feel okay right now.

You snuggle into him slightly, your arms wrapping around his torso to properly be held by him, “I am still feeling uncertain about the future… but right now, I think I am good,” your words are mumbled into the fabric of his shirt.

His chest rumbles under you, humming, “Whatever you are still worried about, I will be with you… every step of the way.”

Pulling your head back, you rest your chin on his chest and ask, “Promise?”

He looks down to you and without hesitation says, “Promise.”

His actions make more sense to you now and that fills you with relief, even if it also frightens you somewhat. Right now, is okay though, being held by him and being assured he’ll be with you, it makes everything okay… just for now, in this quiet moment between the two of you, everything is okay.

Raising yourself up, you push your face into his neck, feeling the urge to be closer to him, your arms also wrap around his neck. He pulls you to him by your middle, holding you firmly. You nuzzle into him, he’s warm and smells really good, he’s making you dizzy.

“You are really warm,” you breath out, words spoken into his skin. It almost feels like his temperature rises as you tell him.

His grip on you tightens momentarily, “You are torturing me.”

You don’t move from him, too comfortable and cosy to pull back, “How?”

Your breath tickles the sensitive skin on his neck and a suppressed shiver runs down his spine, a noise getting caught in his chest, he doesn’t reply to you though; choosing to ignore your question instead.

The sudden urge to cuddle further into his neck hits you but you don’t want to push his boundaries, so you start to pull away from him, mumbling out, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s not what I meant,” his hands move to hold your face, stilling you so you don’t pull away from him anymore.

Your heart feels like it might beat right out of your chest, Kuai is looking you over, eyes examining your face, flitting over your lips carefully. You want him to kiss you, especially since all your thoughts have been consumed by the memory of him kissing you, how overwhelming it was, how good it felt.

His thumb strokes high over your cheek bone, hands gentle with you and so warm, adding to the heat already resting under your skin. The look in his eyes is the same as last night, the way he looked at you just before your father knocked on your door, a little lost in you. He moves towards you and you prepare yourself for his lips on yours but he moves his head to your neck, nuzzling into your skin.

You feel a little let down at the lack of his lips on yours until you gasp at the way he has latched onto your neck, not sucking hard enough to leave a mark but enough to have you reacting viscerally to him – not that it seems all that difficult for him to pull reactions from you anyways.

He moves to another patch of skin, leaving open mouthed, wet kisses on your neck, nipping every now and again just to hear the small sounds you let out and the way you twitch against him. Your hands grab at his back for leverage and your head tilts to the side giving him more access. One of his hands grips at your flesh, fingers digging into your thigh and massaging, his other hand on your back, keeping you in place for him.

A sigh passes your lips at the way his tongue licks up the length of your neck, a shiver running down your spine at the feeling. He hums in satisfaction to himself at your involuntary reactions, enjoying every second of playing with you.

He pulls your shirt to the side to reveal your shoulder, his mouth kisses along it, giving the same treatment he gave your neck. Though, his nips last a bit longer, not afraid to leave marks where he knows no one will see, his teeth graze your skin and it has a small whimper leaving you. His chest rumbles with a groan, not quite reaching the air but vibrating through him all the same.

Your quiet whimpers turn into a surprised moan when he bites your shoulder, his teeth digging in momentarily before he retreats, resting his forehead on your shoulder, “I’m sorry, I got carried away.” His voice is strained, his mind clouded with the sounds you make, the feel of your soft skin, he’s realising slowly that maybe he should stop putting himself in these situations with you. Clearly, he does not possess much self-restraint when it comes to you, especially not when you are so willing.

“Don’t apologise, I don’t mind,” your voice is shaky, both from him and from your nervousness at admitting you liked it, you liked the way he’s marked you. The dull pain of his teeth biting your sensitive skin set you alight, your pussy throbbing for him.

He groans properly this time, his skin growing hotter against you, his hand on your thigh gripping for dear life. “Don’t tell me that, not right now,” his voice is still tense, fighting every urge he has to fuck your cunt with his tongue. Fighting the urge to taste every inch of your body.

You mumble out to him, “I like the way you touch me.”

“That did the opposite of help,” he grunts out, his forehead still resting on your shoulder, too afraid to move because he knows the look on your face will make him dizzy. His thoughts only filled with depraved images of you, of all the things he’d like to do to you and seeing the wet, needy look in your eyes… will break him.

You sit quietly and let him rest up against you, his breathing evening out slowly but surely. He seems to be trying very hard to be respectful but if you’re being honest with yourself, what you want him to do to you is anything but.

Taking pity on him, you decide not to push and instead offer him a way out, “Kuai, I think we have to leave soon.” It’s not a lie, you are both due back at the Shirai Ryu.

“I know,” he says, pulling his head away from you, he shuffles back a bit too, putting some distance between the two of you, “Again, I am sorry.”

“And again, I don’t need your apology, I said I liked it and I meant it,” you’re doing your best to be confident in yourself, “Now, let’s get going or we’ll be late,” you cement, moving off the bed and to your bedroom door.

He watches you walk across the room, a bit stunned by you, turning back you look at him and raise a brow, “Are you coming?”

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he replies, still sitting, you shrug it off and walk out the door.

You feel light-headed, the sensation of his lips and teeth still linger on your skin, you really would’ve liked to have spent a few more moments alone to see what he would do to you. He looked equal parts fucked and hungry and the thought of him taking you how he pleases sends a thrill through your bloodstream. It’s really too bad but you suppose you will have new opportunities to be intimate with him now that you will be living with him.

Kuai catches up to you eventually and you spend the little time you have left with your parents, going over last-minute things about the wedding and saying your goodbyes. You hold your mother for a long time and when it comes to your father, you would really rather not interact with him but you won’t be seeing him for a few weeks so you hug him anyways, as much as you are angry with him, you will miss him. Though, you don’t hug him nearly as long as your mother and there is an air of contempt surrounding you, directed at him.

Before you leave, you take one last walk around your house and the gardens, knowing you won’t be back for quite a bit. It’s not forever, you will visit but you’d like to commit as much of it to memory now, before you leave. Kuai joins you on your walk, keeping you company, he’s nice to walk next to, his body radiates warmth just to your left.

“You will be handy to have in the winter, I don’t handle the cold all that well,” you hum out to him.

He smiles to himself, “I will keep you warm.”

“I will hold you to that.”

When it is finally time to leave, your parents see you off and then you’re gone from your childhood home, starting a new chapter with your future husband. It’s bittersweet, mostly because while you are excited to embark upon and explore this new relationship with Kuai, you are also still feeling upset at your situation, at the choice that was ripped from you. But like your mother said, all you have to do – is your best, that is more than enough.

₊ ⊹

Being back at the Shirai Ryu is… overwhelming or maybe nerve wracking, mostly because you won’t be leaving, this is going to be your home now… Oh gods, this is going to be your home now. Your heart feels like it’s seizing in your chest and you grab for Kuai standing next to you, hand bunching into the side of his shirt.

He notices and leans down to you, “Are you okay?”

You look up to him, your eyes round, you’re panicking and you don’t know how to stop. You can’t find the words to express that, though. The only response you’re capable of is scared eyes and a shake of your head, this is all starting to feel so real.

“I have you, I’m right here,” Kuai pulls you to him, engulfing your frame in a hug, his arms holding you securely, “Everything is okay.”

The pressure of being held is helping to calm you but you’re still feeling frightened, “Okay, w–we should go…we have things to take care of,” you can’t help the slight shake in your voice.

“It can wait,” his chest vibrates under your ear as he speaks, “I’m going to keep holding you until you are ready.”

You focus on your breathing and trying to slow it, attempting to take deep breaths. With your head pressed to Kuai’s chest, you can hear his heartbeat, it is steady and calm, his breaths are deep and even and you find yourself matching them. His calmness helps to steady you, he’s such a sturdy person, you’re glad he is here.

Eventually, you come back to yourself but you don’t want to pull away from him just yet. Moving your face, you press your forehead into his chest, “Thank you,” you mumble against him.

One of his hands moves to your head and strokes the back of it, “Do you feel better?”

“Marginally,” you breathe him in, he smells nice.

He pauses in thought for a moment before enquiring, “Have you ever panicked like that before?”

You sigh against him, “Not for a very long time.”

Panic attacks are not something you are a stranger to, your memories of them very unpleasant but you had worked hard on yourself to get to where you are now. You’ve not had a panic attack this bad in a long time, not since you were younger.

“If you find yourself panicking again… look for me,” his hand tilts your head up, so your chin rests on his chest, “I will drop everything to help.”

You nod at him, confirming that you will find him, if need be.

Before you pull back, you lean up as far as you can and press a soft kiss to his cheek. When you step away and look at him, you think you see a small pink tint flushing his skin. You don’t get to look at him long though, he grabs your hand and walks you through the village properly, taking you to his home.

You’re familiar with his house, you like it, it’s homey and light, it very clearly displays that a man lives in it but it’s still nice. Kuai is a tidy person for the most part, only forgetting cups in some of the rooms he walks into, he has a bad habit of making a drink, taking it with him somewhere, placing it in that room and then walking out of said room without the drink. It’s endearing and not all that bad since he usually remembers at some point and cleans up after himself.

He leads you down the hall to his spare room, “You can stay in this room.”

Nudging his side, you say, “You don’t want to sleep next to me?” You’re joking, mostly.

“You are welcome in my bed anytime you want, dear,” he’s leaned closer to you, his voice low as he says it, suggestive in nature. Before you have time to be embarrassed and stutter out an answer, he moves back and pats the top of your head, “If you do want to sleep next to me, you are more than welcome, I promise to keep my hands to myself.” His tone has an air of humour to it.

“Thank you,” you mutter out, stepping into the room to place some of your stuff down.

Kuai also follows in, putting the rest of your bags on the floor in the corner of the room, “I know it isn’t much but I hope you will be comfortable.”

“It’s perfect, Kuai, thank you,” you’re being earnest, the room is perfect, it has everything you’ll need and that’s more than enough.

Something on the nightstand catches your attention, “Did you get that for me?”

He comes up beside you, “I did, is it okay?”

The big smile that breaks out across your face can’t be helped, “It’s more than okay, thank you,” you lean your head onto his arm, your fingers looping in between his.

He has gotten you a plant, a small but beautiful one, it sits in an ornate pot on the nightstand, right by a window. The plant is green and leafy, some kind of trailing ivy, your mother would know the genus, species, order, family, etcetera. She really is a plant genius and in a small way it has rubbed off on you, in the way that you love plants, you’re not nearly as scientific about it all.

Kuai thinking to get you a plant… it fills you with joy, he’s continuously showing you how much he cares for you and every time he does, it gives you pause, your own feelings for him buzzing under your skin. It’s only now that you recognise and understand, that these feelings are not how you are meant to feel for a friend, you hadn’t considered liking Kuai like that until you had wanted to kiss him.

Being able to recognise them doesn’t make it easier though, if anything it makes it harder, having all these feelings for him and not really understanding how to express them. It certainly doesn’t help that your situation is not exactly… orthodox.

Looking to him, you can’t help the mass amounts of affection you are feeling for him right now, “Kuai, I really do mean it… thank you.”

“It’s just a plant,” his eyebrows scrunch at you, equal parts amused and confused by your heartfelt sentiment.

Your answer is simple, “I know.”

Kuai squeezes your hand before leaving the room, giving you the chance to settle in for a moment. You unpack a couple things and put your clothes into the dresser, you don’t really want to unpack though and so, instead, you end up flopping onto the bed and star-fishing out across the mattress. It’s a nice mattress, not too shabby, nothing to write home about but it’ll get you a good night’s rest.

A little less than half an hour passes by and Kuai comes back to check on you, only to see you sprawled out on the bed, “Done unpacking, already?”

Looking to him, you complain, “It’s boring and I don’t want to do it.”

He raises a brow to you, “How much did you do?”

“Most of my clothes and a couple other things,” shrugging, you add, “What can I say? I packed light.”

He wordlessly looks down to your other bag sitting in the corner, completely untouched.

You shake a hand at him dismissively, “I’ll unpack as I use things.”

“I foresee that annoying you,” he comments.

Scowling, you bite back, “Guess what’s annoying me right now.”

He fights back a laugh and instead asks, “In that case, are you ready to see the others?”

“Come help me up,” you beckon him over with a limp hand.

He lightly rolls his eyes at you but moves to help you up all the same, one of his hands grabbing yours and pulling you to your feet.

“Why, thank you very much,” you joke, patting his shoulder as you leave the room, you can hear the exasperated sigh he lets out from down the hall and it makes you stifle a laugh.

₊ ⊹

You’re meeting Harumi, Tomas and Raiden in a small garden area, it’s not fairing any better than your mothers, everything either dead or dull. It’s cold and you really would rather be inside, you pull your sleeves down over your hands, your fingers needing the small reprieve from the cold.

When you see Tomas he immediately pulls you in for a hug, happy to see you for the first time in a while, “It has been too long, how have you been?”

“I’ve been better,” you chuckle against him.

The hug lingers for a bit and Kuai clears his throat lightly from behind you, Tomas pulls away quickly at the sound. His hand lands on your head and pats you, “It will be nice having you here,” his smile is kind.

You appreciate his compassion, “Thank you, Tomas.”

Raiden moves in for a hug next, holding you and telling you lowly, so only you hear, “If you need anything, we are here for you.”

Pulling away you give him a look to convey gratefulness but don’t say anything verbally. Kuai moves to stand closer to you, his side brushing yours at how close he chose to stand. You appreciate it, the warmth is already radiating off him and you shuffle the tiniest bit closer to him, seeking more of his warmth.

Before you have a chance to make a note of Harumi’s absence, you hear her voice calling to you all, “I am here! Sorry, I got held up.” She moves in to hug you quickly, “It’s good to see you.”

You smile politely at her, feeling uncomfortable, from the cold and also from her, Kuai may not love her but you don’t know how she feels, “It’s good to see you, too,” you echo her sentiments.

Everyone starts chatting to one another, talking about their days and such, you really would like to listen but the cold is creeping into your veins and you feel like you might start shaking soon. Kuai must notice because he leans down to you, “Cold?”

“Very,” you press out, tone strained from the chill in your bones.

Kuai’s hands grab either side of your arms and rub up and down, trying to help warm you, “I think we should head inside,” he announces, “Tomas, is your house clean?”

Tomas looks up and away to think on it for a second before Raiden intervenes, “I cleaned earlier.”

Tomas turns to Raiden to thank him, but you don’t hear the rest of their conversation, Kuai has already begun walking the pair of you in the direction of their house, wanting to get you inside as soon as possible.

“You should wear more layers,” he notes.

“Maybe I wasn’t expecting to stand out in the open,” you huff out in reply.

You make it to Tomas’ house but the others haven’t caught up to you yet, so now you’re just cold in a different area. You move from foot to foot, trying to keep moving, hoping the movement will warm you up. Kuai watches on, amused by your fidgeting.

“This is your fault,” you grumble, “Fix it.”

He looks at you with a supressed smile on his lips and a puzzled look on his face, “And how am I meant to do that?”

“I don’t know! Warm me up… give me a hug or something,” you’re being a bit dramatic but you’re really cold.

He breathes out a small laugh but does hug you, his arms wrapping around you fully, holding you close to him. He’s so warm, in his arms is so much nicer than in the cold. You nuzzle into his chest, humming in contentment, “You’re so warm, so nice,” you mutter out against him.

A hand moves from your back to the side of your face, his palm warming your cheek, “Your face is very cold, you weren’t lying about not handling the cold well.”

“I would not lie about something like that,” his palm is large against your face, you close your eyes and lean into it, savouring his heat.

You don’t see him move but you feel his lips against yours, the warmth and sudden contact makes you gasp in slight shock. His lips aren’t being demanding, he’s being tame right now. The kiss is still enough to make you dizzy though, warm and full, you think maybe he just makes you feel like that. You kiss him back earnestly, your hands tugging at his chest.

As much as you want it, he doesn’t kiss you any deeper, not willing to risk being seen by the others in such a state. He also wants to kiss you more; he wants to see the look on your face after he kisses you stupid, he just doesn’t want the others seeing it too.

When he pulls back, he says, “Your lips also looked cold.”

“Dumb,” you retort, pressing your forehead to his chest again.

You can feel his quiet laughter move through him, “Did it help?”

“…Maybe.”

You don’t wait much longer for the others, you half expected Kuai to remove you from him when they got within eyeshot of you both but he doesn’t, he lets them see how he’s holding you, how you’ve latched onto him.

Tomas asks, “Are you okay?”

“Mm fine, jus cold, lemme inside,” you grumble out at him, words muffled by Kuai’s shirt.

When the door is finally opened you’re the first inside but you are disheartened when you realise it’s still cold in here too, “Why is it so cold in here?” You whinge out.

“It is not that bad,” Raiden comments.

“You’ll warm up,” Harumi laughs lightly, patting your shoulder on her way past you to the kitchen.

Tomas apologises to you with his eyes but you turn to Kuai and point at him, “Come here.” He pretends to be apathetic towards you, stoically moving to your side, “Just stay close by, please,” you ask, giving him your best and prettiest begging look.

“Mhmm,” he agrees easily, his expression extremely self-satisfied, loving how this has all been playing out.

Your hand reaches for his, trying to be as slick as possible, not really wanting the others to make comments on it. Kuai easily grabs your hand when he realises what you’re attempting to do, not bothered by the others and only really wanting to keep you comfortable. His large hand is heated and comfortable and while it doesn’t warm your whole body instantly, it sure does help a whole lot, his closeness is making this cold bearable.

The afternoon is spent all together, drinking tea and chatting, seeing everyone is nice, it’s been a while since you’ve spent some time with them and you had missed it. Kuai makes sure to stay close the whole time, just like you had asked him to, he truly does radiate heat. You think maybe he’s raising his own temperature just to keep you comfortable; you’ll have to remember to thank him for it later.

At some point, Kuai gets up to grab you another drink, you had told him you were fine but he was already standing and walking into the kitchen. Now that he had finally detached from you, everyone focuses their attention on you. Suddenly, you’re feeling very nervous under their eyes.

Tomas breaks the quiet, seemingly voicing what they all want to say, “What’s going on between you and Kuai?”

You don’t really know how to answer that, “I am not sure what you mean.”

“Are you two actually together now?” Harumi clarifies for you.

“We know he is marrying you because of your father,” Raiden adds.

Tomas directs his attention to Raiden, “Not just that, he loves her–”

Harumi gives Tomas a look, scolding him wordlessly for outing Kuai’s feelings for you.

The cold may not be a problem anymore, not with all the heat in your cheeks. You don’t answer straight away but your lack of a reaction to what should have been a bomb drop gives away your knowledge of Kuai’s feelings for you.

Harumi points at you, grinning, “You already know.”

“What? How did you know?” Tomas asks, surprised.

Raiden’s expression is unamused and sympathetic, feeling bad for you at their prying, “You do not have to answer, it is between you and Kuai.”

Tomas agrees with Raiden, “Yes, but also…” he leans in closer to you, over the table, “Tell us.”

You change your expression to an unreadable one, completely stoic as you lean in closer, “He told me.”

When Kuai walks back into the room, your drink in hand, he sees you and Tomas leaning in closer to each other across the table, he raises a brow at the pair of you, “What happened while I was gone?”

“Nothing,” they all chime out together.

You say nothing though, silently sitting back in your chair, Kuai moves to his seat next to you, sliding your tea across the table and then looks at you, waiting for you to tell him. Glancing around the table, you can tell Tomas is silently begging you not to tell him.

You turn to Kuai and smile, thinking of a lie to cover up the reason you were leaning over the table, “I was winning a staring contest against Tomas.”

“I doubt that,” he replies quickly.

Now you’re offended, “And what do you mean by that?”

“If you are going to lie, learn to do it well,” he teases.

“I can lie well,” everyone grumbles in disagreement and you gasp in faux hurt, “I can,” you insist.

“You really can’t,” Raiden says.

You frown at him in response.

“It’s only because you do not lie often, you are confrontational…” Harumi adds, her words trailing off when she looks to Kuai and see he’s shaking his head lightly at her, informing her of her poor word choice.

“I am not confrontational,” you pout out.

Tomas tries placating you, “Of course not, you are just… direct?”

Kuai changes the topic and places a hand on your shoulder, “Anyways, if you were going to pick a lie, you should have picked a believable one, you are very bad at staring contests.”

You look at him and scowl, squinting your eyes at him in anger, “I am not going to say anything because I am not confrontational.”

Everyone at the table is immensely amused by the way this has all unfolded, wearing smiles while you sit with your arms crossed, slightly annoyed at being called confrontational… again.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Kuai insists, a hand moving to pat your head, stroking you in an offer of comfort.

Everyone at the table agrees, trying to make you feel better.

Even though you disagree that you’re confrontational, it’s nice to be amongst friends. You let go of being upset pretty easily, mostly because you weren’t all that upset in the first place, you know they were just joking around.

Both you and Kuai don’t stay much longer after that though, leaving back to his house after another hour or so passes, it was good seeing them, you hadn’t realised how isolated you had been feeling at home until you spent some time around friends. Being here might be a good thing.

₊ ⊹

The night is cold and it’s keeping you awake, the blankets you have are not enough to stop the chill from creeping in or the shivers that run through your body. You think back to earlier today when Kuai offered his bed to you but you feel hesitant to take him up on it, that would be weird right?

Another shiver shakes your body and you decide you don’t care, you are cold and he is a fucking furnace, you are getting into his bed. You move quickly, not wanting to give yourself time to change your mind and also not wanting to feel the cold for too long.

You make it to his room, your footsteps rushed and quiet, you walk up to his side of the bed. Your hand goes for his shoulder, wanting to gently wake him but before you have a chance to call his name and shake him lightly, his hand shoots out and grabs yours.

It startles you and makes you jump, “Geez, sorry–”

“–Are you okay?” He questions, sitting up quickly to check you over.

You’re still shivering, the cold so much worse without a blanket on top of you, “I–I’m fine… never mind, don’t– don’t worry about it,” your words are stuttered slightly, your teeth chattering, “Sorry for wake–waking you, I am going back to bed.”

He frowns sleepily at you, his hand still holding yours, “You’re cold,” he observes.

Another shake wracks through you and he grumbles disapprovingly at it. His hands grab you, pulling your body to his, taking you with him as he lays back in the bed, before rolling to his side. You are laying down facing each other now, his warmth already so welcome. He grabs the blanket, bringing it up around you properly and then he’s shuffling closer, an arm slinging over your side.

His heat makes you hum, “Thank you.”

He only mumbles his response, mostly sounds and not really words. You press your body as close to his as possible, your cold feet tangling with his and he grunts at it, “Why are you so cold?”

“Because it is a cold night,” you mutter out, “We do not all have magical fire powers.”

“You going to be in my bed every cold night?” His voice is thick with sleep, eyes closed.

Pressing your head to his chest, you answer, “If it bothers you, then no.”

“It does not bother me,” his response is quick.

“Kuai?” he hums at you, telling you he’s listening, “Did you make yourself warmer today? When you were next to me?”

He’s quiet for a few beats, “…Yeah, I did.”

“Thank you.”

“You thank me a lot,” he comments.

“You do a lot of things that I am grateful for, I do not know how else to express that,” you sigh, your body finally relaxing, Kuai’s heat finally removing the chill that had settled into your bones.

Kuai holds back from saying the first things that enter his mind, his sleep addled brain immediately thinking of suggestive ways you could thank him, “You don’t have to thank me for the things I choose to do for you.”

“Of course I do,” you’re resolute in your reply because of course you do, who wouldn’t thank someone for their kindness, “Are you saying, that if I were to do something out of the kindness of my heart for you, you would not thank me?”

He immediately disagrees, he would thank you for anything you did for him, “No–”

“–Then why would I not thank you?” You cut him off, already knowing you have won and made your point.

“Just go to sleep,” he grumbles.

You laugh lightly, happy with your victory.

The conversation naturally dwindles though and you find yourself slipping into unconsciousness. With Kuai keeping you warm all night; it is probably one of the most pleasant slumbers you have had in a long time.

₊ ⊹

The past week has been good, you have been a bit home sick, longing for your mothers cooking and company but you have been settling in okay. The days aren’t boring, you have the company of Tomas, Raiden and Harumi. Most often, you have been with Raiden, he seems to have more free time so you spend the day with him more than the others, he is nice company. Though he is quiet and you feel annoying when you talk too much. Sometimes, leaving the interaction wishing you had just been quiet instead.

Kuai has been good to you, he has cooked for you a bit but you have also cooked some nights. Mostly because he is not the best at cooking, you are not going to tell him that though. You’re appreciative of everything he has done to help make you comfortable, you are not about to tell him that his cooking is not good. Because it is okay, it is edible, it’s just not… yummy.

He’s been out today, you would have gone with him but it’s too cold for you, even with him by your side. Some days you can bear it but not today, no, instead you have had a hot shower, like as hot as you could make it without burning yourself. Which you love, the hot showers help with the cold so much but with the cold air, you’ve been worried about your skin drying.

It’s annoying to do but you endure the cold so you can rub moisturiser into your skin, this isn’t so bad and quite pleasant in almost any other season but standing in only a robe with panties underneath, a leg up on the bed, rubbing moisturiser into your skin, during winter… is fucking freezing and you just wanna rug up and get warm.

You don’t even hear Kuai get home, not until he’s standing in your door frame and almost choking on his spit, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” he turns around, arguably not as quick as he could, eyes lingering on your leg perched atop the bed.

“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s fine, I’m only moisturising,” you dismiss, not really all that bothered by him seeing you like this. Though, you did think there was more time until he got back, you would have closed your door if you knew he was going to be home soon.

He turns back around, now that he knows you are fine with his presence and moves across the room to you, “How was your day?”

“Mmm, it was fine… cold, I was alone for most of the day though,” your hands rub at your thigh, massaging the cream into your skin.

Kuai’s voice sounds a little distant, “You did not see Raiden today?”

You only realise why he sounds so distracted when you look to him, his gaze set on your leg, intently watching the way your hands massage at your thigh, “If you like watching so much, why don’t you do it for me,” you joke, not really meaning anything by it.

“I will,” he replies quickly, eyes flicking up to lock on yours, “If you let me.”

Your brows upturn at him, a little confused by his eagerness but it’s not like you’re having fun doing it yourself, “Okay.”

He rounds the bed, moving in front of you; your leg comes down and he lowers himself onto the mattress, tapping your thigh once he’s sat, asking you to put it back up. You do, your foot resting on the bed again, right next to him. You were not expecting this position and it feels incredibly revealing.

He grabs the moisturiser off the bed and pumps some into his hand, eyes looking to yours to check if you’re really okay, before beginning to rub it into your calf. He starts lower on your leg, fingers pressing into your muscles, moving up and down. Eventually, he drags his palms up your leg, reaching your thigh, his fingers grip and pull at the skin and muscle, his hands travelling high up, the pressure feels good.

His hands are warm, the cold not a problem anymore, not with how he’s warming you, not with how intimate this feels, you honestly were not expecting this to feel so… arousing. The higher his hands travel the more your skin heats, seemingly Kuai is having the same problem, his hands growing hotter against your skin the more he rubs the moisturiser in.

Once it’s been absorbed, he asks you for your other leg, which you give, swapping sides for him. His eyes don’t leave your lower half, very carefully watching your thighs, you remember in the back of your head how much he seemed to like gripping your thighs while kissing you.

This time it looks like he’s grabbed more moisturiser, “Kuai, that’s too much, it will take forever to rub in.”

“That’s fine,” he mumbles out.

You insist, “No seriously, my leg can only get so moisturised.”

His eyes look up to yours, “I will find somewhere else to put it,” his eyes drag down your torso with his words, the implication causing blood to rush to your face.

He starts with your calf again, the product slipping all over your skin, he really had grabbed too much. It doesn’t stop him though, his hands move up to get it on your thigh and then his hands are rubbing into your skin again, trying to get it to rub in. Even though there is a surplus of product on you, he persists, massaging you the same as before. It feels good and as he rubs into one spot on your thigh, a small, gasped whine passes your lips.

His fingers are firm as they dig into you, his hands traveling higher again, the sounds that slip from you can’t be helped. You do supress them as much as you can, mostly stopping them in your throat. Kuai pushes all the moisturiser on your calf to your thigh before tugging you to sit in his lap.

You gasp lightly, surprised, “What are you doing?”

“Too much product, going to put in on your other thigh,” he states, his hands rubbing your other thigh again.

The way you’re straddling him is even more exposing than the position you were in before, the lower half of your robe split open now, your panties completely revealed to him. Luckily, your upper half is still covered, you might have fainted if he had your tits in his face while he massaged your thighs.

Kuai is very focused on your thighs though, his hands digging into both of them at the same time, massaging your inner thighs. You’re sensitive where he’s touching, especially like this, your hands hold onto his shoulders, repressed whines getting stuck in your throat. Your thighs twitch under his hands, he moves them further up, all the way to your hips. His hands slip under either side of your panties and rub into the skin of your hips.

Most of the product is absorbed now but Kuai’s hands still travel up and down your thighs, he’s setting you on the edge, his hands exploring you have you almost shaking on top of him. You’re so aroused at this point, pussy wet and needy and he’s only been massaging you.

He still doesn’t stop touching you and you end up pulling his head back by his hair, making him look you in the eyes, “Kuai, please.”

The look in your eyes makes him groan, he hadn’t realised how much of an effect he’d been having on you, mostly touching you for his own enjoyment. He pulls you to him so that you’re sitting in his lap, you twitch and pant at the feeling of his hard cock against your covered cunt.

“Sorry,” he mutters, “Got distracted.”

“Not that, I’m really wet now,” you tell him, not caring for apologies, instead wanting him to do something about it.

He moans at your confession, his hands gripping your thighs harder, his eyes dark and lustful.

“It’s your fault,” you accuse, accurately. “Fix it.”

“And how am I meant to do that?” He smiles cockily up at you.

You decide to snark back, “Are you worried you won’t be able to make me cum?”

His smile doesn’t falter, not falling for your bait, “Yes, I am, why don’t you show me how you do it?”

“Kuai, please,” you plead with him instead, eyes begging him to do something to you, “Do whatever you want to me just– please do something.”

“Whatever I want?” He checks and you nod your head, “And what if I want to do nothing? Leave you a needy mess like this? Then what?”

“Then I will cry,” you answer and you wish that upset him but he seems to be even more pleased at that comment, “You are mean.”

“I am not, you’re just soft,” he retorts.

You grind your hips down into his lap, your pussy rutting against his cock, he chokes on a sudden moan and grips your hips, stopping you from moving.

“Now who is mean?” He asks, voice strained.

“Still you,” it’s grumbled out with annoyance, you’re becoming sexually frustrated.

You decide to try and be meaner, one of your hands leaving his shoulder and dipping into your panties, running through your folds, when you hit your clit you moan and twitch atop of him. His eyes are watching you, small groans vibrating in his chest.

You pull your hand away from your pussy, showing him just how wet you are, fingers coated in your slick. His immediate response is to grab your hand and shove your fingers into his mouth, licking them clean, his mouth hot. You whine at him, he’s officially back to being meaner than you. You feel like a big mess, wet, sticky, needy– downright desperate for him.

He removes your fingers from his mouth, tongue licking at them a final time before pulling away, “That was mean,” he blames.

“Please, Kuai, I will take anything– just make me cum,” you’re back to begging.

He smiles evilly at you, “No.”

“Why not?” Your eyes actually well with tears, threatening to spill.

He holds the side of your face and coos, “Because having you wet and needy on top of me, is really doing it for me.”

“You are evil,” you pout at him.

“You seem to like it,” he’s still smiling at you, like he’s got you in the palm of his hand… and at the moment he does, if he’ll promise to get you off, you’d do just about anything.

He pulls your face to his, lips locking with yours, kissing you deeply. His tongue licking into your mouth, his warmth overwhelming you. His hand on your thigh digs in, holding you firmly. You moan into the kiss, your hips trying to grind down into him again, succeeding marginally. He gasps against you and lets you rut down. Enjoying the friction himself, just as aroused as you are, just better at hiding it. His cock twitches in his pants and you whine into the kiss, wanting so badly to be filled by him.

He pulls away from you, something occurring to him, “Has anyone ever made you cum?”

You’re panting against him, “I hadn’t even been kissed Kuai, take a guess.”

A large smile breaks out across his face, ecstatic at the fact that he’ll be the first person to make you cum, “Mmm, I will make you cum then.”

You perk up, “Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll have you cumming in your little panties for me,” he says it easily but the words embarrass you just as much as they arouse you.

His hands grip either side of your hips and begin dragging you up and down his covered cock, the head of it catching on your clit and making you keel over, your head landing in the crook of his neck, hands holding his shoulders.

Your hips help, moving back and forth with his pace, the friction delicious, it has you salivating for him. He’s gasping out groans under you, enjoying this just as much as you are. He moves his hands to your thighs, spreading you wider on him. His grip stays on your thighs, obsessed with them, with their softness.

You press a light and wet kiss to the skin on his neck, the feeling sends a shiver down his spine, his cock jumping against your cunt. His hands are hot against your thighs, the heat radiating off him suffocating. You muffle your moans into his neck, embarrassed by how whingey and desperate you sound.

Your panties are completely ruined, so slick they’re stuck to your cunt and slipping against the fabric of Kuai’s pants. He pauses for a moment and you whine against him, he shushes you in response. He only stopped to pull his pants down, still in his boxers but wanting less layers between you.

When your pussy comes back into contact with his covered cock, he groans out loudly, mind drifting far from him, if he thinks too hard about how wet you are or how desperate you are for him, he might end up fucking you stupid tonight.

He begins grinding you down into him again, losing his mind at the new feeling, of how much better it feels without his pants on. Without the extra layer, his cockhead catches on your pussy hole through your panties and he groans like he’s been gut punched. You wiggle down on him, seeking penetration that won’t happen, not with all the layers.

You sob into his skin, so horny and wet, you’re drooling onto his shoulder and neck, saliva coating his skin. He keeps rutting you down on top of him, desperate to have you cumming for him. His mind only filled with how you must sound when you finish, how you’ll sound moaning his name.

You can’t think of anything, only thinking of his cock rubbing through your folds and catching on your clit. Every other thought you might have, dying before you are aware of it. You’re shaking against him, getting close to your end, your stomach tensing, cunt fluttering around nothing. Your whines breaking off into nothing, choking on all the sounds you want to make for him.

Kuai notices, “So close aren’t you? Fuc–”

He gets cut off by you biting him, your teeth digging into the skin on his shoulder, you’ve bit him as you cum, his words pushing you over the edge. Your first, thoughtless response being to latch onto him, a way to try and ground yourself. His cock spasms at the feeling, his own orgasm rocking through him, his nails bite into your skin, holding you to him firmly as you both finish at the same time.

He groans loudly, his orgasm shocking him, not expecting to cum so suddenly. You’re limp against him, your teeth no longer imbedded into his shoulder. You pant and shudder against him, aftershocks wracking through your body. He pulls you back, only because he needs to see the look on your face and when he does, he smiles brilliantly at you, overjoyed by your expression.

Your eyes are all gooey, cheeks tear stained, you look like an absolute mess for him and he thinks if he hadn’t just cum, he could cum just from seeing you like this. He tucks you back into his shoulder and holds you to him, letting you regain your strength before trying to move either of you.

You feel dizzy and lost, “It’s never felt that good before.”

“Mmm just you wait,” he retorts humorously.

You still twitch against him slightly but you pull yourself back and press a full kiss to his lips, your tongue licks into his mouth, his hand grabs at your face, letting you kiss him how you please, a moan passing from him to you. You pull back from him properly, sitting in his lap looking at him, feeling a little bashful now.

“What was that for?” He asks, eyes glassy.

You smile sweetly at him and say, “That was a thank you.”

He smiles affectionately at you, his eyes dopey and in love, “You should always thank me like that.”

You bop him on the nose with a finger, “Okay.” Apparently, an orgasm makes you agreeable and happy.

He shakes his head at you in amusement before asking, “Have you eaten yet?”

“Nope, waited for you.”

“Let’s eat then,” he says, picking you up as he stands.

You squeal at him as he carries you down the hall like that, you’re stuck to him, clinging on for dear life, scared you’ll fall but also trusting that he won’t drop you. The whole house is filled with your shared laughter.

₊ ⊹

The next couple weeks are more of the same, you spend a lot of time in Kuai’s bed, seeking his warmth most nights but nothing happened between the two of you. He seemed to be trying to control himself better around you, it would have bugged you but things had honestly been busy. With the wedding approaching fast, you had other things to worry about and your anxieties started peaking their ugly heads again.

And now that the day is here, you feel wracked with nerves the whole time, it hadn’t been so bad… not in the beginning. There were a few hiccups, like the awkwardness between yourself and your father, you’re still holding resentment against him, especially since his motivations remain unknown to you.

Your father had seemed… sombre, when no one was looking there was a sadness looming around him, you aren’t sure what exactly could be the reason for it and you would ask but he wouldn’t tell you either way. He’d only say that it is rude to ask someone why they look run down.

There was one point in the day that you tried talking to him but he had only brushed you off, giving you shallow pleasantries and congratulations. It hurt, to be pushed aside when you had concerns for him, you think the least he could have done was entertain a polite conversation with you but he was not at all interested in talking with you, not in the way you needed him to.

You had also tried asking your mother about your father but like you predicted, she gave away nothing. Instead, she focused on you, how you were feeling and settling, how you were going with Kuai. It was nice to see her, to talk with her properly, you have been missing her company. You also tried a few more times to get her to tell you what was wrong but she’s a tough nut to crack and she continued to assure you nothing was wrong, maybe you are looking too hard for things that aren’t there.

Kuai had been with you most of the day, trying to stay by your side and make sure you felt okay but he had people coming to talk to him a lot, he eventually got pulled away from you, not too long ago actually. Now, he’s probably stuck in a conversation somewhere; one you do not care to stick around for.

This whole day has been uncomfortable and you’re nervous, the future in front of you now and you have no idea what happens after. What changes now? You are aware nothing has actually changed, only the legality of your betrothal to Kuai but things still feel scary, everything feels scary and you feel small. It feels like you may be having a panic attack again.

You scan the crowd for Kuai but fail to find him and instead rush to find a quiet place you can hide for a moment, somewhere you can calm your thoughts and focus on your breathing. It doesn’t help though, now you’re alone with your thoughts, the quiet a welcome change from the overstimulation of being around people but not helping in slowing your thoughts.

All your anxieties are still there, just somehow louder without all the other noises happening around you. You start hyperventilating, now freaking out about not being able to calm down. And you’re frustrated, you have enjoyed your time here for the past month, you feel less isolated, you feel cared for, Kuai makes you feel cared for but you are not coping with the change well, you are not coping with your fathers betrayal well. You are not coping well, not right now. Right now, it feels like the world is caving in around you.

Tears are streaming down your face and you wish they would stop, it will mess with the makeup you’re wearing and then people will have questions, oh gods, what if they have already noticed your absence? What if people are looking for you, what if someone finds you here like this, all sad and pitiful… you might die on the spot, from mortification.

Footsteps can be heard nearby, getting closer to you, it has you holding your breath and standing stock still, hoping the bushes and pillar will be enough to hide you from whoever is in the area. They keep approaching though, their steps seem rushed, like they’re looking for someone, great, they’re probably looking for you.

Kuai rounds the pillar and sees you, he rushes out a sigh of relief, happy to have found you, “I have been looking all over for you, are you okay?” His hands cradle your face and his thumbs gently rub the tears off your cheeks, attempting to fix your makeup.

“I couldn’t find you, I did look,” your voice is shaky, threatening to cry again.

Truthfully, you feel relieved to see him too, his presence immediately bringing you a kind of comfort you hadn’t realised was gone until he was back beside you. You had been leaning on him all day to help keep you together more than you thought, you knew he helped make all of this easier but you hadn’t realised just how much him being near helped you.

“Come here,” he pulls you to him, holding you in a hug, keeping you safe, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You don’t really but you’ll try your best to tell him anyways, “I got scared, nothing changed but it also feels like everything has changed. I am worried about my relationship with my father, I feel betrayed by him… and I guess… I have not been coping as well as I thought I had been.”

“You have been doing remarkably well, considering the circumstances,” his hands rub your back, “You have been doing your best, you have been adjusting as well as anyone can, I am in awe of your resilience, dear.”

You sniffle out, “I worry that I am becoming a burden to you, Kuai.”

“You could never burden me,” he leans down and presses a small kiss high on your cheekbone, when he pulls back he looks you in the eyes, his gaze intense and sincere, “I love you.”

The reminder of his open love for you takes your breath away, he does not repeat it often, only when he thinks you have forgotten it. Only when he thinks you need to hear him say it, he needs you to know how highly he thinks of you, how beautiful you are to him, how amazing you have been throughout all of this.

You never know how to reply to him, saying thank you feels dumb, so you kiss him. Leaning up to him, you press your lips to his gingerly, careful and tentative as you do. You hadn’t kissed during your ceremony, it’s not tradition but in the quiet area you have found, where it is just the two of you, you share a soft kiss, one filled with your appreciation for him and his love. Parting is harder than it should be, every time you kiss him, you hope it will last just a little bit longer.

“You are my husband now,” you comment.

He smiles softly at you, “That I am.”

You both head back to where everyone else is, once you’ve calmed down, he stays with you the whole time and offers you reassuring words. You would have loved nothing more than to go home and be done with the day but you soldier on and get through it.

It is uneventful, more of the same but this time Kuai makes sure to stay close by you, a part of him touching you the whole time. His hand always on you somewhere, whether it be on your back, shoulder, hand, knee, he’s there and he’s making sure you remember it.

Ultimately, he is what gets you through today and you are so grateful to him.

₊ ⊹

After everyone leaves, you’re back at his house… well your house too, it feels a little weird to say though, especially since you feel like you don’t contribute much. His house has been feeling more homely but you can’t tell if that’s his house or him, you think you may just be feeling at home with him.

You shower first, needing to get out of everything and into something comfortable, when you’re finished, you head to Kuai’s room. His door is open and he’s lying on his bed waiting for the shower to be free.

“I am done,” you walk to his side and his hand grabs yours, squeezing once.

He hums at you, “Thank you,” his form moves off the bed, his body brushing up against yours as he slips by you to head in the direction of the shower.

You’re feeling a little odd, you could just go to bed, or even get into his bed and sleep off today but you know people usually celebrate their marriage. It may not be a ‘traditional’ marriage but you would like to sleep with him, he sets your skin on fire, he fills your head with dirty thoughts and… well, you don’t really have any good excuse… he makes you horny and you want him to fuck you.

Sighing, you crawl onto his bed and into the spot he was just in, it’s still warm and cosy. You sit and think about things as you wait for him to come back but all you’re really thinking about is how much you’d like to be filled with him, how hot his skin must get, how vocal he may be. No matter how hard you try to think of something else, your mind wonders back to him and his toned body under you, or above you. Your thighs subtly rub together, seeking friction.

When Kuai come back into the room, he’s wearing his pants low on his hips, he’s shirtless, chest bare and still has some water trailing his abs, his hair down and damp, you can’t help the way you stare at him. You try, you try really hard not to make it obvious but by the way he raises a brow at you, you know you’ve been caught red handed.

You speak before he has the chance to be mean, “Aren’t you cold?”

He hides his smile at your question, “I run hot,” he notes, obviously.

You feel silly, “Right…”

“Was today okay?” He sits down facing you, a hand landing on your knee.

You’re actively having to fight off the shiver that wants to shake your whole body, “It was fine, with you beside me.”

He hums at you in acknowledgement, his hand gripping your knee once before pulling away.

Telling him you want to sleep with him is hard, you haven’t actually tried saying anything yet but he picks up that something is bothering you.

“Did you have something you want to ask me?” He raises his brows to you, encouraging you to ask what you want to.

Biting the bullet, you decide to be direct, “Don’t we… have to consummate our union… or whatever?” You feel very awkward and you’re having a hard time looking him in the eyes.

“We don’t have to,” he replies.

You feel dejected, like he has outright rejected the idea of sleeping with you, “You don’t want to?”

He’s quick to answer, “I want to,” he looks at you, eyes dark, “You know I want to.” His gaze looks like there is a fire raging inside, feelings for you burning just under the surface, “But only if you want to.”

“I want to,” you’re fiddling with your own hands, nervous, “It’s just that, it’d be my first time.”

“Maybe we should wait,” he offers.

“For what?” your brows upturn at him, “I want it.”

He closes his eyes to think for a second, trying to be respectful even though you’re in his bed, asking him to fuck you, on your wedding night. His focus is on trying to keep enough blood in his head so he can think. Not realising that you’ve shuffled closer to him, not until your hand reaches for his wrist and shoves his hand down your panties. You’re resting on your knees for him, legs spread just enough for his fingers to slip through your pussy lips.

He groans, like he’s been punched in the stomach, “That’s just not fair.”

“Trying to show you I want it,” you mutter out, bashful.

He’s weak, how could he resist you when you’ve pushed his fingers to your cunt, your very wet cunt. He drags the tips of his fingers through your folds, spreading your slick all over yourself, you gasp in response and grab onto his shoulder, his skin hot under your hand.

He focuses on where his hand is under your panties, wishing you weren’t wearing any, “I can tell you want it; I still have reservations.”

“Is it because– hah–” you’re cut off by his fingers carefully circling your clit, your nails lightly dig into his skin, “–is it because –mmph– I’m a virgin?” You gasp out, wanting to understand his hesitation.

“Partially,” he hums, his other hand moves to grip your thigh, trying to stop your twitching, “Also because I like your neediness for me, wonder how far I could push you.”

You frown at him, thighs trembling at the stimulation he’s providing, “That would be cruel–”

“–It would be, yes.” He cuts you off only to agree. He looks to your eyes, they’re blown out and glazed and as much as he enjoys taunting you, he would also enjoy getting his dick wet.

You can’t help the way your pussy flutters at his words, you wish you didn’t enjoy how mean he seems to be when it comes to the bedroom. He’s so very often gentle with you and the change in attitude when it comes to this topic affects you in a way you can’t really explain. He knows though, especially since your cunt got so much slicker at his teasing.

He pulls his hand away from you and you whine at him, “I am not going to fuck you–”

“Why–”

He shoves his fingers covered in your wetness into your mouth, effectively getting you to shut up, “Because…” his eyes are set on how your lips wrap around his fingers, on the way your tongue slips between them, licking him clean, “…I said so.” He doesn’t offer anymore explanation.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth slowly, enjoying the view of your lips around them. Once he’s able, he pulls you to him by the back of your neck, his lips harshly meeting with yours. His tongue licks into your mouth, tasting you, he’s fervent, insistent. Mouth hot and the kiss wet, you can only let him kiss you how he pleases and whine into him, he’s overwhelming you and not giving you much of a chance to do anything else.

His hands push at your robe, wanting you to take it off, it slips from your shoulders and pools around your waist. His lips don’t part from yours but his hands move to grab at you, palming your breasts, massaging at you. His fingers pinch at your nipples, rolling them, you break the kiss, moaning louder than you were expecting to.

The sound embarrasses you and your hand moves off his shoulder to cover your mouth, Kuai grunts in disapproval but continues playing with your tits, focus solely on them. You gasp and whine from beneath your palm, your body jerking in response to him. You press your chest forward into his hands more, his eyes are dark and glazed, lost in how big his hands look on your tits.

You pull your hand away, enough to pant out, “Kuai –hah– I can’t– please, I need more.”

“Wants and needs are not the same thing,” his voice is low and gravelly, eyes still on your tits.

You push his hands away from you and stand up on wobbly legs, your robe falls to the floor properly and you push your panties down your legs, kicking them off your feet. Kuai is in awe of you, eyes trailing every inch of your body.

“I know that, and I meant what I said,” you huff at him, you passed want a while ago, you need him now. His hands grab for you but you step away, staying just out of reach, “I need you, please.”

He nods at you quickly, “Mhm whatever you want, just come here.”

You move within arm’s reach of him again and he pulls you down to the mattress, your head lands on the pillows and you laugh in shock. He leans down over you and presses his lips to yours, kissing you quickly. And then he gets off the bed to pull his pants down, freeing his hard cock. He’s large and thick and you think that taking him is going to be… a challenge for sure.

You must look concerned by his size because he says, “Calm down, I meant it when I said I wasn’t fucking you.”

You grumble at him, “I could take it.”

He chuckles, “I am sure you could, not tonight though.”

You’re confused as to what’s happening, “Then what are we doing?”

He crawls back onto the bed, over top of you, and nuzzles his face into the side of yours. His lips press light kisses to your skin before pulling back to look at you smugly. “There are other ways to get off,” he states, matter-of-factly.

“But I want to be…” you trail off before mumbling out, “…full.”

His head drops to your shoulder, and he grumbles lowly about how you’re trying to kill him, or how you’re really testing his patience. Taking a deep breath, he looks back to you and says, “Roll over, onto your side.”

“What? No please?” You joke.

He squints at you and then just flips you onto your side himself, he tucks in behind you, essentially spooning you. His hard body presses into your back, he holds one of his hands out to you, “Spit.”

You do as you’re told without thinking twice, immediately spitting into his palm. He sighs quietly and takes his hand away from you, soft clicking sounds can be heard behind you and Kuai groans out, his head landing on your shoulder. He fists at his cock for a bit, getting it slick for you.

“Keep your thighs closed,” he directs, deep voice by your ear.

His cock slips between your thighs, spreading your pussy lips open on his thick length. You gasp at the feeling of his dick running along your cunt, the head lightly grazing your clit as he slips against you. He moans into your shoulder at the warmth of your pussy, his cock jerking at how wet you are for him.

He breathes in as he pulls back, his dick slick with you. He pushes in between your thighs and you gasp out a whine at how his tip hits your clit. Kuai starts a steady pace, thrusting backwards and forwards, his dick sliding against your pussy. Looking down, you watch the way the head of his cock pokes out between your thighs, you clamp them together as much as you can and Kuai’s hips stutter, a moan pulled from his chest.

You’re leaking against him, his dick sliding easily through your folds, his breath sputters at the plushness of your thighs, at the slick of your creamy cunt. The tip of his cock oozes thick globs of precum, his arousal driving him insane. His hand grips onto your hip, holding you still and needing to ground himself.

Your hips move with him, your need for him heightening. He’s so hard and pressed right against you, it would be so easy for him to change his mind and push inside. Moans and whines spill from you freely, your hand reaches back and tangles into his hair. Kuai presses his head to your shoulder, his pants and moans right next to your ear.

“Kuai –hah– can’t you just –nngh– put it in,” your eyes burn, like the pleasure might make you cry.

He groans into your neck, “No –nngh– I couldn’t –hah–”

He is right, with how big he is and the fact you’ve not had sex before, there is no ‘just’ putting it in. But even though he’s right, your horny brain doesn’t care, “Please~”

“No,” he bites back, “Now stop asking or I’ll stop.”

You whinge at him and even though you want to keep protesting, you think better of it, knowing he definitely would hold off on his own pleasure just to torture you further. Kuai mouths at the side of your neck, getting carried away and sucking at your skin, no doubt leaving behind some dark marks.

He’s getting lost in feeling of your wet cunt and soft thighs, “You’ve got such –hah– soffft skin –fuck– pussy is fucking dripping –nngh– for me.”

His slightly slurred and growled out words drive you mental, moans getting stuck in your chest from how you try to stuff them down. You rock your hips back against him, desperation clawing up your spine.

Kuai’s hand pins your hip to the bed, holding you down, wanting you to stay steady so he can fuck through your thighs how he pleases, “Be good and stay –hah– still.”

Your cunt jumps against him, you’re throbbing for him, your thighs slick and a complete mess, both from his precum and your arousal. You’re frustrated from the lack of fullness, your pussy begging for his cock.

“Kuai~ please –hah–” you let yourself trail off, remembering his threat.

His thrusts speed up, the glide easy, meeting no resistance with the complete mess made of your lower half. You can feel the growls in Kuai’s chest and hear the gasping noises he’s making against your skin, his tongue licks at your neck before he whispers to you.

His voice is low and grumbly, broken only by gasped moans, “Bet you have the tightest little cunt –nghh– probably have me cumming just from filling you –hah–”

You tug at his hair and he moans into your ear the sound has your pussy quivering for him, all the sounds he makes sets you on fire. His hot skin holds you close to him, making you feel faint. And then his mouth is back on your skin, leaving behind more marks.

The sounds you try to stuff down drive him crazy, you’re trying so hard to be quiet but can’t help but make noises and it’s not only boosting his ego, it’s making his cock throb for you. He has half a mind to cave and fuck you open on his cock right now.

Kuai’s cognizance is far from him, his thoughts only focused on your slick cunt and thighs on his cock. He slurs out to you, “You’re such a –hah– pretty little thing –mmph– my pretty little thing –nghh– my pretty little wife.”

You gasp and twitch against him, hearing him refer to you as his wife has your head buzzing, something primal in you loving being referred to as such. Your stomach fills with butterflies, his words doing things to you that you don’t really have the wherewithal to understand right now.

You’re getting close to finishing, your pussy twitches and your stomach clenches, your hand in his hair holding on tighter. He groans into your neck, his own end sneaking up on him. He’s losing his mind at everything, everything about how he’s fucking your thighs right now has him going crazy.

His dick spasms between your legs and his teeth bite into your neck, the feeling a shock, it runs down your spine to your cunt. The blunt pain pushes you off the edge and you cum on Kuai’s cock, choked moans pulling from your chest. You gasp and whine, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes. Your mind is gone as you cum on him, the only thing slightly grounding you is the feeling of Kuai’s hot skin and his tongue as he licks at the bite mark he left behind.

The way you jolt against Kuai and how your thighs seem to clamp tighter have his own orgasm slipping from him. His cum landing on your thighs and his bed. He groans loudly into your skin as he cums and he finds himself wishing so badly that he had cum inside you. He nips at your skin some more as he comes down, enjoying the way you jerk against him as he does.

The hand he had on your hip wanders over your body now that he doesn’t have to hold you down, he pulls at the skin on your thighs, at your tits, and when he reaches your face he wipes the drool away from the corner of your mouth.

He checks you over, “You with me?” You hum out to him in confirmation, and he adds, “Good, cause I’m not done with you.”

His words send a thrill through you, what else could he possibly do to you?

He pulls his cock from between your thighs carefully and then pulls you to lay on your back, he positions himself over you. You’re so pliable now that you’ve cum, letting him manoeuvre you however he pleases. His hands push your thighs open and he’s breathless at the sight, you’re a mess, slick and cum coating your thighs and cunt. He groans out at it, his mouth pooling with saliva, he wants to put his mouth on you so bad.

His fingers drag along your skin, collect what cum he had gotten on you, and then his fingers are pressing through your folds. He’s playing with your pussy, coating it in his cum. A single finger prods at your entrance and slowly slides inside. The grip you have on his single finger almost has him going feral, the fact you wanted him to fill you with no preparation makes him nearly laugh.

You gasp at how his finger has pushed into you, not expecting it but enjoying it, finally having something inside. He gently moves it in and out, slowly fucking you, your thighs try to close at the stimulation but Kuai body between your legs stops them from getting too far. His free hand moves to your thigh and holds you open, his gaze greedy for how open you are for him right now.

He can’t stop thinking about how you would feel split open on his cock, how you would leak around him, how tight you must be and how fucked full he’d make you feel. His skin is buzzing, his cock hard for you again. His finger retreats and you whine at him, the sound you make has his heart racing, you sound so fucked out and cute.

“You make such cute little noises,” he hums out to you.

“Why–”

He shushes you, “Just lay there and let me play with you.”

Gods, he’s going to kill you, your cunt jumps at his words and your stomach twists in knots. The things he has been saying tonight have you gnawing at the bit, wanting him to stop because it’s embarrassing and also never wanting him to shut up because it’s arousing you.

Kuai’s finger collects more of the cum he left on you and then he pushes it inside your cunt, he’s finger fucking his cum inside you and it’s going to make you faint. His finger crooks up inside you and your hands move to cover your mouth, loud moans threatening to rip from you.

Kuai only smiles at your reaction and hums, “Can try and be as quiet as you want, won’t work.”

Your pussy clenches down on him at the sound of his voice and his smile grows larger, he’s enjoying watching your reactions to him, loving the control he has as he fingers you. His pace has been steady and consistent but with his own need to see you cum clawing up his spine his hand speeds up, fucking you faster and harder, his head filling with images of you cumming for him.

He’s thinking about how tight your little cunt will grip him as you finish and how you would feel cumming on his cock. His eyes are glazed and blown, fucked out and he’s not even fucked you. You’re gasping underneath your hands, eyes rolling to the back of your head and spilling tears. The sight has Kuai enamoured, relishing in the way you’re crying over his single finger.

He crooks his finger up to hit a specific spot inside you continuously and it has you cumming with a suppressed shout. Kuai was right, you grip him tight as your cunt spasms around him, your body twitches and your thighs quiver.

As he pulls his finger from you, all your slick and the cum he pushed inside oozes from your convulsing pussy hole. He tuts at you in mock disapproval, you’re not really sure what he’s referring to though, you’re still panting, trying to catch your breath after your second orgasm.

When you’ve regained some of your faculties, you look to Kuai and see the absolutely fucked out look on his face. His eyes glassy and wet, focused on your pussy, his cock fully erect again. He doesn’t look all there at all, like his thoughts are a million miles away from him.

“My pretty little wife has made a mess all on my sheets,” his words are slurred together, “gonna have to clean it up,” his hands run along the insides of your thighs, “You gonna let me clean it up?” He finally looks to you, his eyes bordering on feral.

You nod shakily at him, words failing you right now.

At your approval he’s immediately shuffling between your legs, you don’t know what you were expecting but you’re shocked when he gets on his stomach and pushes your legs open as wide as they will go before licking up the whole length of your pussy. Your stomach jumps in delight and shock, your hand moves back to your mouth to cover the moan that he pulls from you.

He’s lapping at you like a starved animal, not really cleaning any mess but more… making an entirely new one. Your head is up in the clouds, not able to focus on anything but how it feels to have his tongue lick at your pussy. His mouth then suddenly latches onto you, his tongue entering your hole and drinking down all of your cum.

His face presses as close to your pussy as he can possibly get, his nose up against your clit makes you clench down on his tongue and a loud groan rumbles from deep in his chest. The vibrations of the noise he makes has you crying out, your hand doing little to stop it. Kuai’s hands hold onto your thighs, gripping them tighter at the sound you make.

You’re practically panting for him, your hips rise and fall, attempting to ride his face. He holds you down, his mouth fervent on you, hot and wet. The noises that fill the room are embarrassing and obscene. Lewd, wet noises of your cunt and his mouth enter your head and you twitch in response, your skin heating at the realisation that it’s your pussy making those noises.

Your hand is getting damp from how you drool at Kuai’s tongue in your pussy, eventually you can’t take it and need something to grip onto. Your hand moves from your mouth and tangles in his hair, the other gripping at the pillows above you. The moans and whines he pulls from you are falling freely now, unobstructed and just as embarrassing to you as your messy cunt.

When you tug on his hair accidentally, he groans into your pussy, his tongue moving more desperately. Kuai’s hips rut into the mattress below, not able to stop himself from seeking friction. His head fully invaded by you and your cunt. He’s almost whining into your pussy, obsessed with how fucking slick you are, how you seem to just keep getting slicker.

His nails bite into the skin on your thighs where he’s holding you open; you’re shaking like a leaf for him. Your whole-body trembles with how sensitive you are and he’s happily tongue fucking you through it. He doesn’t stop making small noises of pleasure as he licks into you, his hips still rutting down into the bed.

Your whines hit a higher pitch, your hands grabbing and letting go before grabbing again, your orgasm is on the tip of your tongue, or on the tip of Kuai’s tongue and it feels like too much. Your limbs want to flail but Kuai is holding your legs still, not at all deterred from getting you to finish.

“Kuai~ It’s –hah– too –mmph– much,” you cry out to him.

You don’t know if he chooses to not acknowledge you or if he’s so far gone that he doesn’t notice, but he continues tongue fucking you into the next dimension. The relentlessness has you crying now, tears falling freely at the overstimulation. You’re shaking so much and it truly feels like you need to run away from the feelings you’re being given. But even if you try to wiggle away, it doesn’t work, Kuai uses barely any of his strength to hold you still. He grunts into your cunt in disproval, the most communication he’s given since he first put his mouth on you.

A gasped whine is let out as you cum, your pussy spasms around Kuai’s tongue and he moans out at it, nearly whining into you again. His tongue fucks you through it and his nose presses to your clit, he shakes his head lightly to encourage the stimulation. He drinks down your cum while groaning, enjoying himself immensely, ecstatic that he’s finally gotten to shove his tongue inside you.

He pulls back from you, not wanting to overstimulate you more than he already has. You don’t even feel conscious anymore, vision dark and unfocused. The thing that brings you back to your body is Kuai biting at your inner thighs, he’s leaving marks on you, teeth biting in hard enough that an impression of his teeth will be left behind for a while. You let him do it, not really present enough to move anyways and even if you were, you like the marks he’s left behind, you like how possessive he seems to be in bed. It screams to that primal part of your brain.

Kuai pulls back to look at you and the marks he’s left on your thighs, he smiles to himself, full of pride. His hands gently smooth over your thighs before he moves up the bed to lay next to you, he pulls you to your side and hold you to him. You close your eyes, your body soft and pliable, like a ragdoll.

“Are you still with me?” He asks.

Without opening your eyes, you retort, “Are you?”

He chuckles at you but is also sheepish, “Yeah, sorry… I got carried away.”

“Don’t apologise, I liked it,” you mumble out to him, “a lot.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Good.”

You remember that he was hard again and open your eyes to look at him, “Do you need me to… are… do you need help?” You have a hard time phrasing your question.

He looks away from you, his cheeks a light pink, “I am fine…”

You object, “But you didn’t–”

“–I did.”

Your eyes widen in understanding and then you feel incredibly hot in the face, “Oh.”

He hums at you and changes the topic, “Are you satisfied?”

“For now,” you smile cheekily at him.

He leans down to you and presses a soft kiss to your lips, “I think… you might be trying to kill me.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” you raise a brow to him.

“Mhmm,” he dismisses before leaning in to kiss you again.

His lips are gentle and he’s being tender with you, kissing you sweetly after making you cum for him three times. His warm hand skates along your skin, the action raises your skin and you press closer to him, seeking his warmth.

He parts from you and pulls the blanket over the two of you, your hand tangles in his hair again, this time brushing it with your fingers, playing with it mindlessly. You end up scratching at his scalp lightly and he melts for you, enjoying the feeling. You play with his hair for a while but everything is heavy, including your eyelids.

You pull your hand from his hair and instead wrap it around him, tugging him close, he tickles your back as you fall in and out of sleep, you aren’t sure how long he stays awake for but wrapped in his arms, warm and content, you drift to sleep not too long after he presses a small, final kiss to your lips.

₊ ⊹

A/N: Thank you for reading the whole thing, holy cow !! I hope you enjoyed it and I hope it fulfilled everyone’s expectations. As always my inbox is open for questions, thoughts and feelings, don’t hesitate to slide in. I hope everyone has a beautiful day/night and I will now be preparing to write just friends part 2 !! <33

[wesstars]

heaven on earth (ii)

wednesday addams x fem!reader (mostly gn, only term used is “girl friend”)

summary: your friends-with-benefits situation with wednesday isn’t so friendly anymore, but if you could only uncover your own eyes, you might’ve noticed. wc: 5.5k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI! all characters involved are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, painfully oblivious reader, bad fluff, fluff to smut, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, semi-public (car) sex, mild blood, biting, mild overstimulation. a/n: not sure how I feel about this lol. special thank you to 🕷️ anon for her ideas and workshopping <3 comments/asks welcome, as always!

read part one here! this can be read standalone, but is intended to be a continuation.

masterlist

For the fifth time, Wednesday slapped your thigh to get your attention. “Turn it down.”

You huffed a laugh, and figured it was time. You were playing your ‘obnoxious’ pop playlist, full of mostly Taylor Swift and random Korean bands. It was collaborative with Enid, and likely one of Wednesday’s least favorites. Lowering the volume, you tossed Wednesday your phone.

“Alright, it’s your turn.”

The two of you were driving back from a day trip to a nearby town—actually, you were supposed to be driving back the rest of Enid and Co, also, but while Wednesday was beyond ready to leave, they all wanted to stay and do something called a “holy trinity.” How someone could have so much alcohol in so little time was so bizarre to you, but then Wednesday, of all people, rolled her eyes and downed three shots in just as many minutes, and seemed no worse for wear. 

Seemed was the key word there—not a quarter of an hour later, she’d grabbed onto your arm, grip slack, and her eyes were becoming unfocused, roving all over your face only to miss your eyes and tack onto somewhere lower.

You’d coaxed her to eat something after that. Post French fries and buttered bread (she’d kill you after she knew you’d made her eat such unrefined food,) as well as a bottle and a half of water in, she’d mostly walked it off. You figured it was time to get Wednesday home. As far as you knew, the rest of your friends were still out, though you’d made Yoko promise to text you when they were leaving and when they got back. The windows were open in the car; the wind lifted Wednesday’s fringe off her forehead. You glanced over to where she was gingerly operating your phone, punching in letters on Spotify. Your heart twisted.

You didn’t really want to admit that weird feeling you had the first time, and all the rest of the times, you saw Wednesday. It was a sort of jittery one, with a swoop in your stomach, that made you want to prod her into a conversation. You’d gotten quite a bit more than you’d bargained for, from that first fateful kiss in the classroom, to every secret, heady rendezvous after. The last time you two had been intimate—fucked, in your bed—had left an indelible mark, natural as a shadow settled neatly in your chest. The bickering and play fights had only made things worse, and you knew you had to ignore it all, for Wednesday. To keep things the same, because… something’s better than nothing, right?

You supposed that “something” was where you were right now. Being her ‘girl friend,’ with a space in between, sex and unrequited feelings included, was the best place that you could ever be with her. You had those close moments with her that you could cherish, but also that emotional distance that Wednesday undoubtedly wanted. Perfect. Your childlike sentiments were ones that you were likely to carry in your heart, deep down, for fucking forever. They were never going to see the light of day.

Lilting piano filled the car, shoving images of you and Wednesday seated together before the keys into your mind. Your phone dropped back into your lap.

“Nocturne? In E minor.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“I’m surprised you know.”

“Hey!” Indignant, you nearly shot something back that was sure to start one of your bickering matches again, when an unfamiliar sound rang through the car, lovely as the music, but something you’d never heard before.

“Did you just laugh?”

Wednesday’s mumbled denial was covered up by your own laugh, bordering on hysterical as your heart picked itself up and started racing. 

“Do not insult me like that,” Wednesday grumbled, rubbing the hem of her sweater between her fingers. “Focus on the road. Dying with you in a car crash is too pathetic to even consider.” Though her words were sharp as always, her even tone had something in it that, if one wasn’t careful, could be mistaken as gentle.

You snorted again, unable to stop laughing. “And if a double decker bus…” you sang, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. Wednesday’s glare nearly sliced you clean in half, and you were smart for once, shutting up immediately. She wasn’t laughing anymore, and some part of you mourned that.

After Chopin played Liszt, Liebestraum no. 3, and you wondered if Wednesday knew how to queue on Spotify. You followed the winding road up the mountain. You’d be back at Nevermore soon, but selfishly, you didn’t want this to be over. It was an odd time, with no bickering, no siege, no sex, and who could blame you if you were feeling particularly, disgustingly, sentimental? Blame the Liszt.

Turning the car off the road, you pulled into a deserted vista point. Carpe diem, you thought, throwing caution to the wind and the car in park. 

“Why have you stopped?”

“Weds, we’re looking at the sunset.”

“I do not need to see it, it happens every day—”

“Oh, come on,” you laughed, unlocking the car doors and stepping out. With the wind whipping around you, blowing your hair every which way, you ducked to peek into the car. “Humor me, I guess. Don’t you feel sorry for me, or something?”

She gave you a pointed look. “I do not.” But she followed you out the car anyway.

Leaning on the hood, you looked out at the scene as she joined you. Spiky evergreens stretched out across the stony slopes, with the last vestiges of snow clinging to the tops. The sun stretched its longing light into the rapidly darkening east behind you, pulling taut the shadows and blanketing everything in an aureate shine.

You glanced over at Wednesday—despite her earlier protest, it seemed as if she was tolerating this. The tension around her brow was gone, and her arms hung relaxed by her sides. The silence wasn’t rare, but it felt reverent anyway. Your heart adored her in her outfit; it was something your mind refused to register. She was in black knee high boots, made of some leather you couldn’t pronounce, an inky dress, flowing in the wind, down to her thighs, and a soft deep gray sweater. There was a sort of bleeding sentiment, beginning to seep into your everyday life, into wondering what Wednesday would think of the book you were reading, imagining her reaction to Bianca’s quip, overthinking her hand clutching your sleeve in the courtyard.

You deliberated, vaguely, what it would be like if you tumbled down the mountainside, into those trees—would the wood be cushioning or bruising? It was a serious consideration, with all that you were feeling. Those damned feelings, ones that Wednesday would undoubtedly scorn, made you kick up the gravel underfoot in frustration.

Beside you, Wednesday cast an uninterested look over you at the noise, silently judging. A beat passed. She grabbed the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, and pulled you into a bruising kiss. 

“I am going in the car. The back seat. Be not afraid.” She retreated, and gave a little smirk, one reserved for the golden light and dark trees.

It was purely unfair, as the blood rushed from your head to pool in your stomach, making your heart work overtime. Stumbling to the back seat, you’d barely sat down before Wednesday reached over to the console and locked the doors. She’d taken off her boots, leaving her legs clad in white socks scrunched around her calves.

She climbed into your lap without preamble, squeezing your hips with her thighs. The car roof meant she had to duck her head just a bit, giving you the perfect opportunity to press your lips to hers. Having Wednesday on top of you was the kind of thing that made your head spin. And spinning you were, down into that deep unending abyss where there was only the smell of hot sugar, pine, and iron. 

The Midas touch of the setting sun made Wednesday seem even paler, from her exposed knees to her small hands, glowing like some ethereal being. She kissed you as if she could wrap her teeth around you, like searching for sweetness in the corners of your mouth. Sure enough, there was something about her, a sense of urgency, that threatened to take in all of you. 

“This dress is nice,” you murmured, pushing it up her pale thighs, rubbing away the red marks her boots left on her calves. Your hands continued upward, to the light dampness of her inner thighs.

“You said you liked it last time.” Wednesday immediately glanced away, as if she hadn’t meant to say those words. There was a faint flush to her cheeks again, but the two of you were fogging up the car windows.

You ignored the pulsing in your stomach that traitorously screamed she wore this for me? “It’s enchanting,” you said. “Like a witch of the wood.”

You nosed your way into the nape of her neck again, a favorite spot of yours, unable to stop your stupid mouth from running. “I adore it…” You pulled her tighter to your lap, skimming the seam of her underwear at the juncture of her thigh. “Can I touch you, Wednesday?”

“Get on with it,” she said, breathlessly, indulging you with a quick quirk of her lips. 

Skimming the back of your hand up between her thighs, you sent your other hand to palm her chest through her dress. You felt her through her panties, the fabric soft and smooth from her slick. Dipping your hand below the waistband, you wasted no time finding her clit. Her breath came down hard—it was her tell, you knew, even when her face remained mostly impassive.

She was sensitive today, back arching with a small gasp as soon as you touched her. Hand shooting past your head, Wednesday grabbed onto the headrest, hard enough for the leather to creak. Her outstretched arm was right next to your head, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss the inside of her elbow. 

She sighed, unfurling tendrils of a storm in smooth skies. “You have all of me,” Wednesday said, something soft.

You press a kiss to Wednesday's forehead, equally soft, as you curl your fingers again. “If only, Wednesday,” you said, unthinking.

Wednesday froze, squeezing her other hand on your shoulder hard enough to leave pretty bruises under your collared shirt.

You pulled back, cocking your head. “What is it?”

She furrowed her brow at you, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, then glanced away quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Your fingers traced another circle around her clit.

“Stop asking.” Her voice was firm, but it had a waver in the middle, like she’d almost changed her mind. 

“I’ll stop asking,” you whispered, “if you tell me what’s up.” Her eyes were glazed over with a sheen not unlike her slick that coated your fingers, something shiny and sweet. 

“You’re hopeless,” she said, not even a second before she clapped her hand over your mouth.

What an Addams wants, an Addams gets, you surmised, blinking quickly. You rubbed your free hand up and down her thigh, trying to soothe her, but she only moved her hand to grip your jaw, her intent the sear of fire through the underbrush.

“I do not like repeating myself,” she said quietly, “so listen closely.” She shifted closer to you on your lap, car leather squeaking, settling on her knees so your nose was in her collar. She reached down and gave you a handkerchief from her pocket. Knowing what she meant, you pulled your fingers from her warmth, feeling a hard lump in your throat. “And make no noise.”

You nodded. She looked wild on top of you, hair mussed from your make out session, the apples of her cheeks a dusty rose.

“Honesty colors me,” she said by way of explanation. “And you talk too much, so this is how it will have to be.” She seemed to think for a moment, biting her lip. Her burgundy lipstick contrasted so starkly with her gray sweater, as if she was the only screaming color in a black and white world. She might hate that, you mused absently. Maybe she was more a whirlpool of the blackest black, sucking in all of the color and light around it so that you had no choice but to be drawn in, to the only real thing you’d ever known.

“You’re stupid,” Wednesday started, matter-of-factly. “Just like everyone else.” You nodded, used to this sort of thing by now. “But your particular brand of stupidity is showing its truth.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, arms automatically going around her waist while you leaned back to look at her. Where she was going with this, you had no idea. You only knew that that whirlpool was making its way closer and closer to you.

“At first, our… arrangement was indeed purely physical.” She paused. “But things have changed, quite drastically. I do believe I’ve reached a… point of no return, but I have since found a balance.”

Wednesday locked her eyes on yours, unflinching. “I give myself to you time and time again-” the words were unfamiliar from her mouth- “yet, you seem to give no indication that you know. ‘If only?’ It’s nearly laughable.” She gave a huff, though her gaze was contemplative. You cocked your head, mind uncomprehending, mouth dry.

“You have my heart, beating or still.” Her words rang quiet in the car. Your own heart started up again, with all the betrayal of a thrumming bass. You tried to push it down, but it didn’t erase the reality of what Wednesday had just said—did Wednesday ever lie? She was good at it, sure, but you’d long learned that Wednesday’s word was her end. “And it appears as though you are completely unaware.”

“Unaware?” You broke her rule, and you could see the tick of annoyance in her eyes. But you plowed on anyway. “Are you saying that you have my—that I don’t know that I have your—that you like me?”

“My devotion is more than that,” Wednesday said casually, “but it may be that you’re unable to handle that at this time.”

Sure enough, you could feel your body informing your mind that you were hyperventilating, Wednesday’s weight on your lap the only thing keeping you from shooting off to Saturn.

“I don’t—” you struggled for your words, the usual wit you showed while bickering with Wednesday, the strategy you’d used to defend Jericho, absolutely nowhere to be seen.

“Need I pull stars from the sky to prove myself to you?” she said, raising an eyebrow in amusement, as if she wasn’t blowing through every poorly stacked defense of yours. It would be just like Wednesday, for every word of hers to be devastating and world shifting. No one knew Wednesday Addams and remained unchanged—that was just the kind of person she was, romantic as murder via blade. Perhaps to her, your wide eyed reaction was enough of a damning confession. “You’ll be the end of me, but what bliss that would be.” 

“Um,” you started, eloquently. “You’re… you’re not thinking straight,” you rasped out, mind freezing. You could feel your back stuck to the seat, unyielding. “You’re—”

“If I didn’t know you and your oblivious tendencies, I would think that it is almost insulting of you to doubt me.” She gave a small sniff, chin held high. “You think that just because you do not recognize my words, means that I am not in a right state of mind?”

In one fluid motion, she pressed her forehead to yours, and cradled your face between her two cold hands. Your name felt like salvation from her lips; “believe me, I’m wide awake.”

Your jaw went slack, and you were sure you looked as much a dumbass as you felt.

“I intended for my… vulnerability,” Wednesday’s voice wavers on the word, “to be a sign for you, but either you are just that unobservant, or you are unwilling to admit to what is right before your eyes.”

“I’d never not pick up on something on purpose, Weds.” Your brain was wading through a thick mud, unable to turn at the speed that Wednesday wanted.

“Does that mean that you are willfully disregarding the way I show myself to you?” Finally, in her words, you were able to see the exact vulnerability that she had alluded to.

“No, I’d never, I just… didn’t want to hope,” you said, embarrassed. “Romance isn’t your thing.”

“It’s not,” she replied simply, quietly. “I understand your reservations.” Wednesday’s hands held an imperceptible tremble, but her gaze was strong.

“No—of course I—” your throat tightened, but you felt the weight falling from your shoulders anyway. That was something you recognized. “Of course I like you.”

The silence rang yet again, and Wednesday’s eyes widened, the onyx of them turning warm as molten metal. The exact expression in them was hard to place, but it calmed you, in the wake of speaking aloud something you’d been afraid to admit to yourself.

A thought occurred to you, more clear than any you’d had since Wednesday had opened her mouth. “Even if we’d never—if we never have sex again, I’d still l—like you.”

Despite the way you stumbled into and over your words, Wednesday’s dark eyes on yours grew warm, pupil blurring into iris; the corner of her mouth gave an upwards tick.

“In the cracks of light,” Wednesday whispered, reverent as prayer as her fingertips traced your cheekbone, “I see the heaven on earth I’ve won with you.”

She kissed you then, and you couldn’t hold back any more. It was something like pure relief—though your mind still didn’t quite comprehend Wednesday’s confession (confession!), your heart broke the dam, pulling you down past inhibition. Spiraling to Wednesday’s gravity, it was as natural as breathing to give in.

Wednesday, all knowing as always, must’ve seen the way your resolve broke. She slid her mouth against yours, open and hot, unhurried but eager. The car leather under your thighs was as warm as Wednesday on top of you—not even she was immune to the rays of waning sunlight, it seemed.

“You know,” you muttered, between capturing her lips, “it’s just like you to say all that about moving heaven and earth. Most people just say ‘I like you.’” It wasn’t a complaint by any means; with your hands on her waist, you’d have it no other way.

“As I said, it is more than that.” She took a breath, completely steady and confident, now. “You consume me, completely.”

“And you, I,” you said softly, as if you could do anything but agree to her heady desire. “I’ve got you, Wednesday.”

Her forehead dropped to your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you. It took a moment for you to realize that in her silence after your words, she was grinding down, near imperceptibly, into your lap.

“Mmm, my love,” you murmured, the significance of the endearment not lost on you, “look at you.” Sliding a hand up her back to her hair, you felt her braids through your fingers. You ran your hands down once more, under her sweater to feel the muscles around her shoulder blades. The heat you felt through her dress from where she was pressed to you, through your trousers, was something out of a darkest dream, unable to be forgotten.

Wednesday leaned up again, eyes sharp as a lance, to brand you with a kiss. She bit your lip, breaking through skin, and you grinned at the pain. It was hard and harsh, comforting like the thin edge of a knife. You felt the blood seeping into the seams of your teeth, rain in scorched earth. Intoxicated, you seemed to float closer into that sweet and dark whirlpool.

“That hurt, Wednesday…” you leaned in, voice dropping. “I wanna…” There was a beat of silence where you could only taste the copper in your mouth, sweet as you knew the slick between her thighs to be. You shifted your grip to her hips, bruising, and the soft little moan Wednesday gave in response spurred you on. “I wanna hurt you.”

You did, helplessly. Of course, you would rain hell on anyone that so much as lifted a finger against Wednesday, but to hold her trust that came with pain—you wanted that from her, to know when she hurt, when she wanted to hurt. Whether it was holding her back from the edge, or flying and dropping together to the bottom, bodies crashing against one another, you wanted it. Like something out of a classical myth, with wings of wax or blood, you would burn and be burned to feel the weightless warmth of that golden light.

There was no hesitation for Wednesday, just a look in her eyes that you’d come to know intimately as hunger. “Hurt me.” Her voice was low, nearly fond, in your ear as her eyes tracked the blood collecting on your lips. She leaned towards you and licked, tongue to your teeth, translucent saliva mixing with the burgundy. “I want it to hurt—I want you to hurt me.”

When she leaned back, her lipstick was stained with your blood, and it made you want to bleed if only she was the one taking it. You leaned your temple to her jawline, eyes burning at the sun through the windshield. Your hands continued once again up her thighs, just as reverent as before. The two of you never could do anything by half—you were always Wednesday’s. Realizing it, speaking it aloud, confessing or not, couldn’t have changed that. Despite that, as you rocked back and kissed the blood off Wednesday, you felt as though you were on your knees, professing everything you were. Giving one last cheeky swipe of your tongue on her lips, you went to tug Wednesday’s panties down. She followed your lead easily, tossing the expensive garment somewhere to the side. 

“My sweet girl,” you sighed, something possessive curling in your words. “What would you like?”

“Everything.” There was a devout way about her utterance that had your hands shaking with the desire to fulfill her. “Touch me.”

Crossing one arm around her to clasp the back of her neck, you brought her face close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing.

“Everything? How much can we do with ‘everything’ when you’re so sensitive, angel?” On cue, Wednesday’s eyes slipped shut as you drew a finger along her pussy to find her wet and wanting.

“Don’t you think you should be the one to answer that?” Her voice, bold and challenging, shook up your stomach like champagne. You were completely, utterly ruined before Wednesday Addams, and it was a nearly celestial ruin, so bright and beloved it nearly hurt.

You didn’t hesitate, slipping your finger in and grinding your palm on her clit. You didn’t miss her knees sliding further apart, that elusive grin gracing her face as she tipped her head back. Only her tight hold on your shoulders kept her from falling into your lap. Your mouth tasted of iron, such a contrast to Wednesday’s burnt sugar sweat on your tongue as you licked a stripe up her jaw to bite her earlobe. Drawing every small sigh out, you took your time, curling your fingers the way you knew she liked. You squeezed your hand, heavy where her shoulders met her neck. The jagged breaths she took in response made you crave more, and your stomach burned with contentment when she let you press another finger inside of her.

Wednesday’s half lidded eyes tracked down your neck, hunter to the scent of fear, leaving a shiver in her wake. It was inexplicably easy to discern what she wanted, even as she threaded her hands in your hair, something tingling and distracting.

“Go ahead, I know you want to.” Like blood rushing back into white fingertips, her soft lips were on your neck, undoubtedly leaving a smear of lip stain that you’d have to be chastised to wipe off. Almost as if she’d read your mind, she was sucking at your skin, impatient. Already you could feel the raised welt, and the way her tongue soothed the strain.

“You’re mine,” she breathed out, harsh despite the way she was panting with every twist of your fingers.

“Yeah,” you whispered, the haze of being Wednesday’s blurring your every action. “I’m yours.”

You curled your fingers, and had to bite down a moan as her teeth sank deeper into your neck, a cause and effect that you’d kill for. You swore as she set sight on your jawline, the sweet shock of her hot tongue making you shiver. 

“Took you long enough,” she muttered darkly—it seemed she was satisfied with the state of your neck, since you could feel the skin throbbing pleasantly. She leaned back, proffering her own throat.

“I was always yours,” you said easily. “I can just…” you trailed off as your sharp teeth met her skin in the spot you knew she liked, making her cry out, “show you better now.”

Wednesday’s hands tightened in your hair, pulling a broken gasp from your throat. Her smirk, challenging as she took in your reaction, only spurred you on. It was pure selfishness, when you grinned lazily as she tugged. You gave as good as you got, though, each curl of your fingers and shift of your hand had her trembling.

She was close; you could feel it in the uneven cadence of her breath, almost as erratic as yours. Pulling the collar of her sweater aside, you worked your tongue against her jugular, her pulse tempting and honey sweet in your mouth. It was nearly tangible between your teeth, soft and solid, the pounding of her pulse, just milliseconds away from your own.

“C’mon, Wednesday,” you whispered in her ear, “just like that.”

Her breath stuttered, climbing up higher to the returning lump in your throat. It was always a marvel, the way that Wednesday was so incredibly responsive to you, your touch or your words. The hard catch of her lip between her teeth made you grin, and you reached out, tugging it free. You leaned in to kiss her forehead as you slipped your thumb in her mouth instead, your fingers never stopping. 

“Wednesday.” She turned her glossy eyes towards you, and it was the closest you’d ever seen her to coming without really falling. “Let go.”

At your words, she gasped, and you could feel her cunt pulse around your fingers as she came. Her teeth bit into your skin and her eyebrows knitted together ever so gently—you loved to watch her come undone. She was all soft moans and flushed cheeks, open in a way that she hardly ever was otherwise. It unfurled something bright and warm in your chest, spreading out into your fingertips. You felt as hazy as she looked, the smell of her spilling into the air and undoubtedly lingering in your chest.

“That’s perfect, love, you’re so good for me.” You shushed her as she panted, eyes unfocused beneath her mussed fringe, but searing into yours. You continued your palm on her clit, holding her tight as her body stuttered. You moved your hand to cup her face, smoothing over unshed tears along her waterline.

“You’re…” Wednesday gave a low groan as you hit that sensitive spot inside of her again, none too gently.

“Yes,” you answered gently. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, won’t you?” She nodded, eager, as she pushed her hips into your hand, even though it made her whole body shiver. 

“Fuck—”

You hummed in response, feeling her cunt open even easier now that she was impossibly wetter. As you worked a third finger into her, Wednesday’s spine went rigid, a whining, desperate sound you’d never thought you’d hear breaking from her throat. She grabbed your hand, and her palms were damp. Her grip on your wrist was tight, just as much keeping you from progressing as it was keeping you from pulling away. You leaned in by her ear. “Does it hurt?”

She gave a jerky nod, jaw clenched and lips parted. You would turn a storm on its head for those ways that Wednesday strayed from her control, especially when you were the one guiding that meandering path. Pressing the heel of your hand into her clit, you laughed, small and indulgent, as she clung tighter to you, a strained little cry escaping. 

“Good girl, Wednesday… you’re taking it so well, aren’t you? You’re taking me so well, darling…” Fisting the front of her sweater in your hand, you pulled her off balance, tugging her close so her lips fell to yours, easy as breathing. Swallowing every single prized whimper that fell from her, you kissed her slow. Wednesday was already sensitive, but this was intense for even her, you could tell. Her breath came shakily against you as you pulled away, having smeared her lipstick to your content. Fingers sliding punishingly against her clit, your laugh rumbled low in your chest as she keened, soft and just a bit pleading.

“Very good, Wednesday, my love,” you coaxed. Her gasp, more like a sob, washed over you in a satisfaction that made you shudder. The slick from her previous orgasm clung to your hand, making it easy to keep up your punishing pace. Her tears shined like sea glass in her lashes, as devout to the cause of ruining her cheeks as the dusk outside was to darkness. You had no idea how much time had passed, only that if she asked, you’d stay right here with her until daylight again.

“I’m—” A whine rose from her throat, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You can do it, baby-” your thumb circled her clit as your fingers found their way impossibly deeper into Wednesday- “just for me, okay?”

“Okay,” she repeated, mindlessly. This world where Wednesday let herself trust you to take care of her was one you could live in, drown in, make your home in. You raised your hand to the juncture of her neck and jaw, heavy and comforting. Reminded of every time Wednesday had put her hand in that same place on you when you were on your knees in front of her, more intimate than anything, you tugged on her wrist, instantly missing her hold in your hair. Intertwining your fingers together, you held your hands together in between you and Wednesday. 

Without a warning, her fingers tightened around yours, so hard that her knuckles turned white. You could see that how hard she came took her by surprise, too—eyes wide open and pupils blown. It was breathtaking, you thought, just how much tension was in her, all tense shoulders and choked cry. Her nails dug into your skin, her grip tethering you from dropping off with her. It stung, and you loved it, the maroon of your blood welling up just enough to smear her fingertips. 

Wednesday’s head fell into the nape of your neck, nuzzling like she could find the world’s secrets in your skin. Hand still in hers, you wiped away the smeared burgundy around the corners of her mouth with your thumb pad, fingers lingering.

“That was devious,” she murmured, words blurring around each other.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled. She nodded, somewhat resolutely. You eased your fingers out, tucking them surreptitiously into your mouth. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Wednesday, but she only narrowed her eyes.

Even in her post-orgasm daze, Wednesday looked dangerous. Her fringe was all over the place, getting caught in her eyelashes, and you could finally attribute the pink in her cheeks to something a little more than the fogged up windows. Surely, this was heaven on earth, having Wednesday with you, steady as planetal orbit. You shifted her to sit sideways in your lap, making sure her knees didn’t burn from the leather. She was watching you, carefully. It was almost as if she was trying to memorize you, the studious way she looked at you, like she was the sole messenger for a world that wasn’t allowed to take you in. It made your heart pound, finally in accordance with your head. You let her take her time in your arms, rubbing her shoulders. The little press of her lips was back, something you had adored for something dangerously similar to ‘forever.’ She seemed content in a way she hardly ever was, the haze in her eyes clearing as she studied you. 

“You’ve changed a lot since I met you,” she commented, not unkindly.

You looked down into Wednesday’s face, at the night air drifting through her hair again. You could feel the sting from the little crescent shaped marks that her nails left. It was a warm contrast to her cold hand in yours, clasped between you. “You changed me, Wednesday.”

--

wednesday: you have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul… i love, i love, i love you. 

reader: huh?

a/n cont’d for those brave souls that made it this far: yes, wednesday’s dress has pockets. isn’t that wonderful?

I’m SO BAD at writing fluff. plus, reader is the most unreliable narrator to unreliably narrate. should’ve put “painfully oblivious” as a warning for part one too.

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

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