#apparently links do not show up in tags

[grahatialiker]

HIIII everyonee I am pleased to announce my first batch of charms I made are up and ready on my ko-fi shop

I currently have 5 of Power, and if anybody would be Interested in the Bocchi I made I can print more of her too!! Even if you just take the time to read this post, thank you <3

[fingertipsmp3]

This thing I've just coded for my assignment is genuinely dogshit but I think I kind of have to just submit it 🫠

[neowinestainedress]

wave | lee donghyuck

pairing: lee donghyuck x fem reader genre: college au, academics rivals to lovers, kinda fake dating, forced to work together on a project, smut, fluff, humor (idk), music major!haechan, music major!mc | not really requested but thank you 💌 anon for the inspo summary: your indifference toward Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, becomes rivalry when he decides to sabotage you. The battle turns into a war, the war turns into a plan, and the plan, well, the plan fails miserably... or succeeds wonderfully. After all, it’s all about points of view. Or, Haechan thinks he found a way to distract you and be better than you, but doesn’t think it thoroughly and screws it up. warnings: smut, mentioned weed consumption, alcohol use, fingering, oral (receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, jealous sex, bickering, teasing, etc | inclusivity notes: reader wears different hairstyles (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type (but haechan lifts her a few times), no mention of skin color, no use of y/n wc: 22.4k (out of 42k)

a/n: finally i’m back! i started this fic more than a year ago so seeing it finally come to life means everything to me. i had so much fun writing it, so i hope you’ll love it too. please, let me know with comments, reblogs (that also help reach more people), or anon. i love knowing what you think. enjoy! also if there are formatting mistakes please let me know cause i’ve been having problems posting this and i copied it without editing it once again.

masterpost (with visuals and playlist) (i can’t post the link or else the post doesn’t show up in the tags, but you can find it on my profile)

Being number one in your academy isn’t a want, but a need.

You didn’t spend your entire life crafting your skills and splitting yourself between the books and the training room for all of that to be swept under the rug when you finally made it to your dream university; Neo Arts Academy.

Surely, with the prizes promised to those on top, you aren’t the only one with that racing passion to drive you through each day. Tons of people try their best, and even put their health at risk to reach the biggest success, but you manage to focus on yourself and keep your life in a pretty healthy balance.

You managed to focus on you… until something, well, somebody, started to come into your way.

Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, his stage name —if he ever made it big in the industry he wanted to be already known.

You never paid him much attention. Honestly, you never paid attention to anybody, your only goal was to take care of your small garden and top everybody else, but when his competitiveness got the best of him, you just couldn’t push him in the back of your mind.

Apparently, his goals are the same as yours, and that isn’t a nice thing considering how competitive your world is. You first truly glanced at him during a songwriting lesson, when he huffed a bit too loudly behind you while he announced to his friend, probably named Mark, that he sucked at writing songs. However, you only chuckled mindlessly that time and went on with your day.

That was your first year there and everything went fine. Then the second year arrived and you applied for your minor degree in dance and that was when Donghyuck’s presence started to be louder. You had nothing against him, but you quickly learned he couldn’t stand you for some reason. Rumours were quick at flying around, being passed from mouth to ear and you knew them.

You simply couldn’t care.

Yet.

Haechan doesn’t hate you. He could never do that. After all, he doesn’t even know you. But he does know something about you. He knows your name, and how it is always on top of his in any ranking. He knows you will always win the contests he wants to win so badly. He knows you are good at theory and practice. He knows he just can’t win with you.

He also knows nothing can touch you. Not because you are unreachable and believe you’re superior to others. Actually, you are very modest about all your academic success, but you always walk straight on your road with the goal perfectly in the line of view.

Haechan doesn’t hate you. Though, lately, he has a strange feeling in his body every time he sits at his desk to study and his only motivation is to surpass you. Nothing different than the first months there, he got pretty soon you were going to be a tough but nice competitor, but fuck he never imagined you would be so hard to beat. Now that after a year he never won or got the top grade and always came second after you, you aren’t motivating him, you are driving him insane.

He doesn’t have many distractions, but he has friends, some hobbies outside of university, and even a part-time job. But you? Is there something that is distracting you? Is there anything that could distract you? He has no idea, not now that he is watching you walk into the room, ready for the classical ballet history class —yes, of course out of all the minors, you had to choose his— and sit a few rows in front of him, all alone as always, taking out your lilac book note and your pen.

Haechan has no idea, but he is going to find out something that can easily distract you and push out of your path.

You know people think of university as a moment to socialise, but being on your own has never been a problem for you. You have contacts with some of your hometown friends, and most importantly, you don’t mind doing things alone; you can go to the cinema when you want, you can pick whatever restaurant you like, you can take a walk, or stay at home.

You’ve always been comfortable in your bubble, and you’d like to keep it that way, but life has strange plans.

“Damn, always on a rush.” You recognize Haechan’s voice, but you don’t bother turning around because you’re sure he’s not addressing you. You think it’s weird he’s sitting next to you, but you blink the surprise away and grab your tablet from your bag. “Whoever put music theory at 8:30 in the morning on a Monday needs to go to jail.”

You chuckle at his comment, subtly rolling your eyes before opening the note app to go where you left it in the previous lesson.

“You write a lot.” This time you’re quite sure he’s talking to you, so your neck turns to look at him and you find him closer than you’d like him to be.

“I annotate, it’s just the essentials.”

He scans the notes quickly before scoffing. “The essentials? I don’t write as half as that.”

“Well, I think this is essential, but we all work differently,” while you’re answering him, you don’t even notice that his friend is not beside him, and you get lost in him for a second, mostly in the scent that’s filling your nostrils now that his brown jacket is so close to you.

“The professor talks too fast, how the fu— how do you get everything?” He stops himself from cursing and backs away, finally making you breathe some air that is not filled with his intoxicating perfume.

“I rewrite phrases. And, to be sure, I record the lessons, so I can re-listen to them in case something doesn’t make sense when I study them. And then I also re-write the not—”

“You record the lessons?” He almost snarls with his eyes bulging out of his skull as he, once again, stands too close to you.

“Is it illegal?” Your head tilts to the side as genuine curiosity blooms on your face.

“No, it’s… it’s…” he sighs, throwing his head back and cursing something under his breath in a tight dialect you don’t recognize. “I never thought about it.”

“Oh, well, it helps me a lot. Sometimes when I’m too tired to read I just play the lessons and memorize stuff while I do other things,” you smile, moving your hair to one side of your neck before grabbing the pen when the professor walks in. “You should try.”

“Oh, you can be sure I will.”

Haechan can’t be so stupid. He can’t believe he can be so stupid. Why didn’t he ever, ever, think about that? That’s a smart idea, better than crying and cursing when he tries to understand what he wrote down on paper when he revisits the notes, or asking Mark if he wrote some phrases he had marked down with several question marks or dots to fill —dots that he never fills.

But he’s still sure he can’t be a terrible student, he had always been on top of his classes, always aced them and his study method worked… but what if yours worked better? Given the results of the past year, and the start of this one, the answer is clear: yours do work better.

But he doesn’t think that it’s the only reason you are beating him in everything. What if you have other tricks?

Haechan is going to find out.

You always believed your only competition was yourself. You never liked to engage with other people and fight them or fear them. But Haechan had given you no choice.

It was an open threat at you when he purposefully told you a different day to turn in an assignment when you were sick, you had no choice but to fight back.

That was when Haechan truly became your rival. He had always been, you two were always at the top, fighting for the first place and the big prizes, but now it was a matter of pride.

Haechan had officially made it on top of your blacklist, at least he could arrive number one in something, not like there was a big competition to be in there, in fact, you didn’t even have one before he pushed your last nerve.

Fucking it up with you wasn’t Haechan’s plan, he wanted to befriend you and trick you into giving him some magic tricks, but things went… wrong. With Mark by his side, it was impossible to sit next to you. During songwriting you got up and sat on another seat in the middle of the lesson with the excuse of ‘not seeing from afar’, and he couldn’t approach you in any other circumstances. So, when you got sick for three days, he thought he could, for once, steal your spotlight.

He wasn’t sure you were sick, but he was sure enough you weren’t going to miss lessons days to study or work on projects; you never needed extra time, unfortunately, he knew it well. So the only thing that could lock you in your place was an illness of some kind. He did feel bad when you came back four days later and asked him if you missed something, he could see you still weren’t at your best, and he could’ve tried his luck by telling you the truth, hoping that the precarious state you were in was going to make you come up with a terrible essay on an instrument of the 18th century, but his eagerness got the best of him, and he lied.

So he had officially screwed his plan of getting closer to you.

“You are an asshole,” you scream, slamming the books in front of him on the table in the garden, not caring about his friends staring at you in shock. “And don’t look at me with that face of ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ because you know what I’m referring to.”

“I don’t, though…” he whispers, trying to keep a distance between you because you look scary —half bent on the table, furrowed forehead, pointing finger— and he thinks you are very motivated to reach over his neckline and strangle him.

You roll your eyes, groaning in annoyance. “You told me Professor Kim left an essay for Monday, I thought I could use the weekend to do an amazing job and he called me to his office because I was three days late.”

Haechan gulps, and the table goes silent, you feel his friends’ gazes on you but they are the last thing in your mind.

“Mind to explain?”

“I… I didn’t do it on purpose?”

“You have to ask me if you are an asshole because your mother didn’t put a brain in your skull?”

“Hey, take it back!” He warns with a pointing finger, glaring at you.  

“No,” you retort, crossing your arms on your chest and standing up straight. “You sabotaged me.”

“You are making things up. Maybe you should be in the creative writing major,” Haechan taunts, a shit-eating grin on his face.  

You gasp offended, clenching your fists to avoid wrapping your hands around his neck. “You — you — ugh,” you huff. “This paper was graded! And you knew it, it’s part of the mid-course work he adds to our final grade. Why would you do that to me?”

“You think I did that on purpose?”

“When did you turn it in?” You ask and when his eyes widen you scream at his face. “See! You turned it on time. I fucking hate you!”

“I didn’t answer,” he tries to defend, a challenging edge in his voice, getting to your nerves more than the look on his face.

“First of all, I can see it in your face. You’re trying to look surprised and even scared, but you’re having the time of your life because, guess what, you can’t surpass me if you don’t play your stupid games.”

He snorts offended, gulping before leaning closer. “You think I can’t beat you?”

“It’s not what I think, it’s what the rankings say, it’s what our professors say, and it’s what all the external opportunities I’ve got say. But if you want to try to prove facts wrong, bring it on,” you shrug, grabbing your things and taking a step back. “No more dirty games from now on, Lee Donghyuck. Trust me, you don’t want me to start playing them too, you might not even see the top three if I do.”

The months to come are fire. You should keep minding your business but as soon as he opens his mouth in class you can’t press your lips together and fake it. You try, every time, but you fail.

“I just mean that the melody is what attracts people,” he argues during a discussion in the songwriting class.

You huff, shaking your head. “People care about the lyrics more.”

He scoffs loudly and the professor glares at him for the reaction but he still goes on. “People won’t listen to a song if the production sucks.”

You turn around, eyebrows pressed in a furrow. “And they won’t listen to a song if the lyrics are dumb, or tell a bad message.”

“Really? Catchy pop music is a thing even if you want so badly to maintain the purity of the art of music with only lyrical depth.”

“I love catchy pop songs, but there’s something objective in music and something subjective, if you paid attention to any of our classes you should know, right?”

The class holds back a laugh and the professor coughs, making you utter an apologize, more addressed to her than your enemy.

“Oh, trust me, I paid attention to class,” he retorts, mockingly smiling at you. “And we’re not talking about the quality but the appeal. People remember the rhythm of the song or the tune more than they remember the words.”

“And words can hold so much meaning for someone they will stick to them forever. Also, lyrics can have different interpretations and if you’re a good writer you can make one song fit for more occasions.”

“That’s dumb,” he says, looking at you up and down after scoffing. “Notes can transfer different emotions, what you said just doesn’t make sense, please.”

“Can we tone it down?” Professor Park warns, glaring at the both of you.

You nod and mutter another apology before speaking up again, “I believe that a good melody can easily attract people at first listen, but if we talk about the long run, a memorable song also needs good lyrics. And Mariah Carey herself said how being a songwriter makes your career last more, so I think it’s telling coming from one of the best voices ever.”

“I think you both make a great point,” the professor cuts the conversation off before you can jump at each other’s throat again. “It would be interesting to make a deeper analysis and maybe break down songs and compare data over time. If it was possible to keep the decorum…” she whispers the last word and you want to disappear because you hate the scene you gave. “But we need to move on with our lesson, so, as I was saying…”

Out of all the heated discussions you had in class, the one about the importance of production and lyrics, led to your worst nightmare, working on a project with him. Professor Park was so nice to pair you together because she wanted to see how your different points of view would’ve worked in the song you had to write and produce and even if you smiled and said, ‘it will be really motivating,’ to avoid yelling at her face, now you want to die.

You’re sure the first two knocks on the door don’t even reach the other side; your hits are too weak and the small apartment in that complex is too loud for anyone to hear. Is this the environment you have to work in today?

You roll your eyes and knock again, this time making sure it’s impossible for them not to hear you. You wait there only for a few seconds and then the door opens, revealing a boy your age you can’t remember.

“Oh, hi,” he cheers, big toothy smile beaming at you. “You must be here for Hyuck, right?”

You hum, nodding and murmuring, “Yes, I have to work on a project with Haechan.”

“Come in.”

You step inside the house and look around briefly before your eyes fall on the table in the small living room; there are books everywhere, headphones on the ground, boxes of food and empty water bottles, and most importantly talks too loud for four boys that were supposedly studying.

“Mark, can you lower the music?”

“Music is what I’m studying, I can’t,” the man you know well replies. “Why don’t you keep your pencil close to you? Jesus, there’s graphite everywhere.”

“You’re so annoying, I can’t go in my room, Jeno still didn’t take down the light boxes,” the brown-haired replies, sending a death glare to the boy at his side who quickly replies to his defence.  

“Hey, I finished shooting half an hour ago and now I have an essay to write, leave me alone.”

“They’re entertaining, aren’t they?” Haechan’s voice brings you out of the haze of his bickering friends, their conversation fades in the background while your anger level rises just seeing his face when you turn around.

“Surely more entertaining than you,” you retort before taking a step forward, pretending to know where to go in that house.

Haechan rolls his eyes, thanking his friend who opened the door —Jaemin— and coming next to you. “You don’t know where my room is yet, so if you’d like to follow me.”

You trail behind him, waving at the men around the table but it’s clear that none of them even noticed your presence. Luckily for you, Donghyuck’s room is at the end of the corridor and the mess that goes down in the other room is not hearable enough to make your day a living hell.

“So, do you have anything in mind?” He asks after you sit at one of the chairs at his desk.

You shake your head, fixing your skirt and pulling out some things you might need from your bag. “Wanted to hear from you first. Since the melody is so crucial, we should start from that,” you mock in a fake-sweet tone, and you feel his glare on your skin.

“You truly are a pain in the ass, you know?” He scoffs, moving his hair out of his face, gaze fixed on you.

“And for what? Because I agreed with your theory?”

“If you have a melody in mind it’s easier to make the words flow.”

“If the melody has nothing to do with the idea, you only have some notes and not a song.”

Now that there aren’t rows of chairs dividing you, the heated argument has led you face to face, literally. And you feel your heart pound in your chest from the anger and, also because it’s weird to be this close to a stranger you can’t stand.

“Okay, Miss Taylor Swift, why don’t you enlighten me and show me what you got?”

You glare at him but he’s unfazed, holding the eye contact proudly. “My lyrics will be better than your production.”

“And are those lyrics in the room with us?”

“God,” you groan, throwing your hands in the air and your head back. “You drive me insane.”

“And you are pretentious and still never prove all the things that that little, bratty, annoying mouth of yours says.”

Deep creases show on your forehead, and you have to turn around because if you see his face for a second more you will slap him. But you want this project done, you have four weeks to turn it in, but you want this torture to be over as soon as possible, so you know you have to put the pettiness aside.

“If we want a great result and good grades, we need good lyrics and a good melody,” you say, calmly facing him again, slowly watching as his face softens. “My words and your production. I don’t care what comes to us first, if you think it can be useful, we could even brainstorm some tunes and catchphrases and then build it around it.”

“Now you’re making some sense,” he exclaims, smiling widely before patting the top of your head. “So that head is not empty.”

“Oh, seriously? I’m trying to have a truce, and you fuck it all up again?”

“No, sorry, I just think you’re really smart when it comes to college but a bit annoying when it comes to life.”

“You’re just mad you can’t beat me.”

“I can,” he retorts smugly.  

“Then why don’t you do it?” You tease, cocking your head to the side.

Haechan scoffs, lips twitching in a quick smirk before he wets them. “I didn’t yet, but are you so sure I won’t?” He whispers, breath colliding with your lips and nose brushing yours, your brain doesn’t even register his hands on your legs right away, only when his fingers caress your bare skin right above the hem you wake up from the haze of having him so close.

“Time will — time will prove us,” you say, turning to the desk and scratching your neck. “Time will tell us, not prove us.”

Haechan snickers, moving closer to see on your tablet where you opened the notes, and smiles smugly. He thinks he found a way to distract you.

The project isn’t done in the first week, and to put a cherry on top, Professor Park decides to make it the big project for the end of the class, adding a cover for the single, a plan to sponsor it, and, if someone feels brave enough, even to record it. Even if you wanted to, a thing this big, and now with so much weight on the final grade, can’t be done in one week.

Yet, you think you’ll have to deal with Haechan only on your weekly meet-ups for that project and during lessons, you never imagined you would have to deal with him even during your library study on Wednesday.

“Why are you studying in the middle of the week?”

“You know, if I had to replicate a sound every time we start a conversation it would be ‘and now, I just want to sit back and relax and enjoy my evening, when all of a sudden I hear this agitating grating voice,’ and that is the sound that plays in my mind, actually.”

“Grating? Really?”

“Well, it’s the quote but it fits,” you reply sternly, bringing your attention back to the book. “Also, the question is not, why am I studying, but why aren’t you? How will you beat me if you don’t?” You wink, laughing under your breath. You don’t even need to see his reaction; you know his jaw tenses and his nostrils flare for a brief second every time you tease him.

You hear the chair in front of you scratch on the floor, and deeply hope he’s not sitting on it. But Haechan is sitting on it, staring at you as if he could steal the information from your brain and pass it to his.

“I am studying.”

“No, you’re not,” you reply, eyes widening when he rips a page from your notebook and a pen from your case. “So, what have you learned since now?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes to the sky and instead run a hand on your face while sighing deeply. There’s just no way to get rid of him, right?

“You don’t even know what I’m studying.”

“Sound design,” he replies promptly, and you look down to see if he could’ve gotten a grasp from your books but there’s a paper on it and there’s not much written on it. Haechan smiles and moves to the chair next to you. “It’s because I started it too, there are too many notions, it would be a suicide to wait for the finals.”

“Oh, so you do something else other than think about me,” you tease, nudging him with your leg.

“Hey! I don’t think about you,” he replies firmly, frowning.

“Sure,” you huff, waving him off. “So, what do you know?”

“Well, all the basis we learnt last year, so the definition of sound, the path it follows, how it’s perceived based on the medium and how fast it travels through them, slowest through gases, faster through liquids, and fastest through solids, and that temperature effects it as well.”

You smile, content with the reply but you want to test him more. “What about the five characteristics of sound?”

“You think that’s a difficult one?” He asks, almost disappointed at the easiness of your question.

“Well, if you want to impress me so bad, I could ask you to list all the types of compressors?”

“You already know that?” He questions, quirking a brow, trying to think why he doesn’t remember them. “Wait, we didn’t do that in class.”

You laugh. “See, you’re witty. No, we haven’t done that yet, but since you love producing so much, I thought you knew it as personal knowledge.”

“Why do you talk as if you don’t want to do the same job as mine?” There’s a bit of annoyance in his tone, but there’s genuine curiosity in his eyes.

You shrug, pressing your lips together before diverting your gaze.

Haechan gasps. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what you want to do, yet, because I won’t believe it.”

“It’s not that I don’t know,” you reply, a low huff leaving your lips. “I’d like to try different things out, being a PR manager sounds interesting too. And I’m also pretty good at dancing, so that could be a career path.”

“It’s a shame we didn’t start practical courses, I would love to see you dance.”

“Yeah, sure, so you can mock me some more,” you groan.

He shakes his head. “No, you wouldn’t enroll in a program if you weren’t absolutely perfect at it, so I can’t come at your skills.”

“You’re so kind, I think I might love you,” you mock, moving closer to him and pouting before pushing him away with a light push on his chest and focusing on your papers again.

“And by the way, I know the characteristics of sound,” he says, right next to your face.  

You smile and think to yourself that this might be fun. “Good, go on and tell me.”

You don’t get why Haechan’s roommate bicker so much. Not that you could lecture them when, as soon as you walk inside his room, your talks won’t be much different than theirs (worse, probably). But you think you and Haechan, at least, have a reason to fight so much. His roommates are… weird. They are close. They all are, in an annoying way almost, always moving in packs and breaking their back to meet up even if their institutes are scattered around in the Academy. Yet, they get heated pretty easily when they sit in the living room, and you can only blame it on stress as you chuckle, standing against the countertop with a glass of water in hand.

“Donghyuck left you all alone?” Jeno enters the kitchen, distracting you from Renjun screaming at his painting and Mark cursing while he tries to come up with a melody for a small assignment you decided to not worry about —you have Haechan to worry about now.

“Yep, told me to be here at 2 pm just to be in the shower instead,” you reply with a tight smile on your face that makes him laugh and scroll the black hair out of his face.

“My fault,” he explains while pouring himself a glass. “I convinced him to stay at the basketball field when we finished and he couldn’t meet up with you smelling like rotten leftovers forgotten under the august sun.”

“Creative writing?” You ask after you chuckle at his description.

“Nope, photography, Renjun’s worst nightmare.”

You laugh. “It’s because you leave all those big things around his room, right?”

“Our room,” he says, empathising on the first word.

“Okay, communism king, your room but I don’t think your comrade is happy about it.”

Jeno laughs, and hums before gulping down a sip of water. “I’m not rich yet to afford a studio so he’ll have to deal with his bestie working, sweating, and crying his way to the top.”

“You could’ve been a nepo baby and have everything handed to you.”

“Sucks not to be one. I wouldn’t even bother being in Uni, just leaving my best life with my camera and daddy’s money.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Haechan says entering the kitchen, hair still damp and casual housewear on.

“None of your business,” you reply, placing the glass in the sink and walking to the door. “Come on, we have a song to create. It could be our first Billboard number one.”

Haechan sighs, snatching the bottle of water from Jeno’s hand, briefly confused at his grinning face, and then follows you quickly.

“Are you trying to hit on my friends?” He asks, closing the door behind.

“Would you mind?”

“Yes, I’d hate having to deal with you in our group hangouts.”

“You already deal with me. More than you should since you always come to me even when we could not be together,” you say, tilting your head to the side, and sitting on your assigned chair. “Are you perhaps jealous? Do you want me all to yourself?”

“Nah, you can go and fuck all of them right no—”

“Okay,” you don’t even let him finish and you’re at the door, but he springs after you and stops you.

“What are you doing? I was kidding!”

“Why? Since when you can tell me what to do?”

Haechan groans and drags you back to your place, but he doesn’t sit just yet, he’s bent over to be close to you. “I need you here with me to work on this goddam song, and then you can go and have a gangbang in the living room, I don’t care.”

“You’d be mad you won’t be part of it,” you joke, having the time of your life watching his pissed-off expression as he stomps loudly back at his place. “Accept that you will never win with me, and maybe you won’t be so triggered every time we talk.”

“Shit, it’s late,” you murmur, lifting your head from the lyrics you’re trying to write down. Now you got the theme —it’s a love song that you hope won’t turn lame— and even a faint idea of a tune, and while Haechan tried to get inspired by other songs and tried instruments he wants to add to the track, you worked on the words.

“Don’t you think we’re trying too hard?” He whispers, placing the guitar on his bed before standing up and stretching.

“What do you mean?” You ask, lifting your neck so you can look at him after you turn around on the rotating chair.

“Music should come to you, it should be… spontaneous.”

You’d want to roll your eyes, mostly for the spontaneous part, but he’s right. Most artists don’t think about the songs they make, the song comes to their mind when they’re not thinking about it.

“Yes, but do you think we’re doing such a shitty job with this?”

He shakes his head, walking closer to you. “Not totally, I just think that if we want to be on top, we have to work around it differently.”

You gulp when he hovers over you and grips the side of the chair tightly. “Like?”

“We should… relax. Take our mind off of it and just wait for it to come,” he glances at the desk, studying the crumpled tries you gave up on and the only three phrases you were happy with written on the tablet. “We should get inspired,” he whispers, and you’re once again so focused on his face that you don’t feel his hand on your thigh, under the long black skirt you’re wearing, it surely must’ve been on you for a while if the fabric was already crumpled up and his fingers teased the hem of your panties between your hips and stomach.

“Is — is this how you inspire people?” You ask, glancing down with a rising chest but for some reason not pulling away.

“Don’t know, I’ve never done it before,” he chuckles, slowly moving closer to your core, observing the small signs of your body. “Should we see if it works?”

You hate him. You should be working on that lyric for the last half hour you have left. You hate him. He’s making it impossible for you to stick to your ‘minding my business’ plan that had worked through all your school years. You hate him, you do, and yet you nod, humming a feeble ‘yes,’ in response.

“Good,” rolls out of his lips, and it sounds so different from his usual tone, you can’t help but feel hot.

Your nails sink in the chair when his fingers slip right against your clit after he had your consent and starts teasing it.

“So, it’s a love song…” he says, and you frown, heart pumping louder as for a second you think he led you on and you looked like a pathetic horny loser, but his hand is still playing with your pussy and his face is still close to yours. “Chose that because you have somebody in mind?”

“We literally picked it for a reason last week, you —”

“God,” he shushes you up, pushing the panties to the side and teasing your entrance, it’s already damp, but not enough how he wants it. “Can you stop being so rational for once? I know why we picked it; remember I’m trying to inspire you.”

“Wait, you really think some fingering can inspire me to write a love so—” your words shut down when he places a hand on your mouth, eyes widening but pussy leaking an embarrassing amount of cum.

He quirks a brow in surprise and, shortly after, a smug smirk curls his lips. “Oh, so you’re into that?”

You can’t reply, but even if you could’ve, you’re not sure you would’ve said anything.

“So, anybody in mind?”

You shake your head. Your love life has been anything but exciting, and after a few tries, you were sure it wasn’t what you needed to focus on, especially because nobody sparked your interest. Nobody was worth moving your focus from your studies.

“Great, so I guess that’ll have to be me.”

“What?” You mutter muffled, closing your legs and moving on the chair.

Haechan rolls his eyes in his skull, keeping you in place. “Oh, come on, you can fake it for a few minutes. Don’t act disgusted, I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he says.

“Not yet.”

“I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he retorts after he pushes into you with two fingers, staring right into your eyes.

You bite back a moan and a curse under your breath. “Fine, but I don’t want to think,” you say. “Just, prove it to me. If you’re good, I’ll be inspired and I’ll come up with the lyrics, if you suck, we’ll go back to our original method.”

Haechan hates that he constantly has to prove things to you, and he hates even more that he does it, almost as if he’s your dog and he has to follow your orders while you keep him on a leash. But if this will work to come up with a great song, and in his outer-songwriting-course-plan to distract you, he won’t complain.

Honestly, he couldn’t complain even if it only meant to finger you. He might want to fight you every time he sees your face but, damn, what a face.

“Shit,” you moan. You don’t want to give him too much satisfaction, but he knows what he’s doing and it’s been way too long since someone touched you like that. Damn, even since you touched yourself like that. Maybe the whole ‘staring at your goals’ was taking some funny things away from you.

“Do you want to turn the song into a Hozier song?”

You huff, you just asked him one thing and his mouth is running again doing the opposite. “You wish you were this good to inspire a Hozier type of song.”

“Really?” He taunts, pressing his thumb on your clit, starting to tease the throbbing nub in circles.

“Yes,” your voice trembles, but your face shows confidence.

Haechan snickers, quickening the pace of his fingers, watching you fight against yourself to not show how much you’re loving it. “One second of this mouth on your pussy and I’d make you change your mind,” he whispers right against your ears, hot breath fanning your skin. “It’s a shame you don’t deserve it.”

You groan, head rolling back in disappointment, and that makes him laugh.

“You have to think twice before running that mouth, babe. Especially with me.”

“Never,” you talk back, opening your eyes and regretting as soon as they meet his. His gaze is too intense, and your brain is too far gone to keep it up.

Haechan only grins, enjoying your wrecked face and the sounds your pussy is making as his fingers keep working on you. You might try to deny him, but your body is speaking to him, and deeply so are you. It’s in your eyes, and your lips trembling, and in the beautiful moans that are rolling out of your tongue.

“Are you close, brat?”

You don’t have it in you to complain, or retort, the orgasm is right around the corner and you fear he would ruin the experience if you said something out of line.

“Answer me,” he orders, lightly slapping your thigh.

“Yes,” you breathe out, biting your lower lip to prevent the whole house from hearing you.

“Good,” he replies, smiling proudly and starting to move faster in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot every time he reaches the base, and torturing your clit with his thumb. And when it’s too much for you, you come. Body trembling against the chair, and legs pushing up as the shocks of pleasure run through you.

“Acid when you talk but sweet to taste,” he hums after pulling out his fingers from his mouth and you only glare at him as you quickly try to get yourself together again. 

“It’s late,” he says, staring at the clock. “Go home and let me know if this was useful somehow. And not by replaying it in your mind at night wishing I was there with you.” He winks and you slap his shoulder hard. “What the hell!”

“I won’t come up with anything on purpose, and I swear if you keep being so annoying, I’ll be terrible at this.”

“You would never, this makes up like 80% of our final grade.” He challenges you with a glare.  

“If I go down, you go down with me,” you retort, face to face, fiercely looking into his eyes.  

“It’s not smart of you.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” you smile sweetly before it drops from your face. “It’s a threat.”

It’s not like you’re trying to avoid him after what happened, but that’s exactly what’s going on. You don’t regret the act per se, you just can’t believe it was so easy for you to agree to do that with him. And you know he will use it against you for eternity.

A very dumb move from your side to give him the possibility to tease you even more and about something you couldn’t defend yourself from.

But if you try your best to change corridors when you see him from afar, walk quickly back to your dorm room, and sit on the opposite side in class (you fail at keeping your mouth quiet, but you need to discuss with him during lessons), it seems like he’s doing everything he can to be on your path.

“I’m starting to believe you’re a stalker,” you huff, clearly scaring him when you stop abruptly in the middle of the library and make him stop in his tracks.

“I’m not.”

You raise a brow, staring at him until he huffs and throws his hands up in the air. “Fine, fine, I was following you but only because I wanted to know what you will study.”

“Why do you care so much about what I study?”

“So I know how to beat you?”

“Isn’t it more exciting if you beat me only using your brain by putting some knowledge in it without seeing my cards?” You say, pushing a finger on his chest and making him walk backwards until his back hits the bookshelf behind him.

“I think sneaky games are funnier, though,” he whispers, hand moving to rest on your side. “Especially with you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, and taking a step back, freeing yourself from his hold. “The games you’re playing are not sneaky. Why are you always in my business?”

He shrugs. “Why not? So, what are we studying today?”

“We are not studying together.”

“Why? Isn’t it funny? The same study method, same hours, but one of us will be better than the other. That’s a truly equal comparison.”

You run a hand on your face and keep walking to find what you need. “If you didn’t distract me every two seconds, I would’ve already been like five pages into my studying session.”

“Oh, please, you are wondering around the library anyway. I’m just keeping you company.” His body follows yours like a shadow, his heat radiating so close to your skin that you think you might go insane.

“I don’t want your company,” you say, moving your eyes swiftly over the books in front of you as you try to find what you are looking for in the sociology section. When you finally find it, reminding yourself you have to buy it so you can annotate directly on yours, you walk back to your table, but Haechan is still beside you like a puppy on a string. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I could, and I’d want to, but I can’t,” he says, sitting at your side, smiling widely when you glare at him.

“This is a useless lesson for you,” you try to dismiss him.

“Is it? Because we have the same ones.”

“Jesus, okay, fine,” you give up, throwing your head back and raising your voice enough to make some heads turn in your direction. His biggest talent is to exasperate you. “But we give ourselves a timing, and then when we’re done, we’ll have to answer five questions.”

“And who answers to them all?” He asks, there’s a taunting edge in his voice, and a grin on his face.

“Is the best,” you reply as if it’s obvious.

“Yeah, but there should be a prize.”

“Being better than you is the prize.”

Haechan scoffs, and he hates to admit in his mind that he finds your snarky remarks so fucking hot, if you weren’t in a public library and if his job on earth wasn’t to detest you, he would’ve already had you bent on the table.

“I love how you’re always so sure of being better than me.”

You snicker and send him a flying kiss. “Honey, I am better than you.”

“Wait, I just left out a detail!” You almost scream when you compare your answers for the nth time because you can’t believe he has done slightly better than you.

“That detail is important,” Haechan replies unfazed by your indignation.

“No, it’s not. We would have the same score if this was graded,” you insist, feeling more angered than you should. It’s nothing serious, it shouldn’t be serious, but with him, there’s your pride on the line.

“But this is between me and you, so I win. Also, my phrasing in the second answer is better than yours.”

“Shut up, it’s not.”

“It is, and you just have to admit you lost,” he insists, leaning over, staring at you with a challenging raised brow.  

You swallow, eyebrows furrowing, and then you sigh. “Your advantage is minimal. And you only won a battle, because I’m winning a war.”

“Fine, Napoleon, I still won and you’re coming to my place even Saturday so we can do this some more.”

“Hey, Napoleon sucked! He lost the most important battles, the only ones he should’ve won.”

“That’s why I called you that,” he winks, clicking his tongue mockingly.  

“Oh, you think you will win the war? You’re wrong, honey, Waterloo is yours.”

Haechan laughs, standing up after putting his things in his bag. “I’m waiting for you on Saturday…” he says and before you can complain he starts singing, “Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war…”

“Oh, shut up!” You say, hitting his arm as you push him away, but he giggles and walks away continuing with the tune.

“Waterloo, promise to love you forevermore. Waterloo, couldn’t escape if I wanted to…”

And you think that if only he didn’t try to sabotage your final grades in Music History, you might even find him funny.

Haechan hates you.

If he was sure he didn’t before, he is sure that he does now.

He can’t wrap his head around the fact that you, Miss zero social skills, and negative 100 friends, can be so good at debating. On every fucking topic. You’re well-spoken, witty, smart, somehow it looks like you know everything about everything. And even when you don’t know (and you always specify it — which he shouldn’t find so hot, but he does) you always come up with perfectly thought theories and analyses coming from the small knowledge you have on the topic. The thing he also hates is that you never sound like you’re showing off your skills, it’s just really nice to listen to you and —when he’s not the one intervening against you— you’re the sweetest person ever and everybody in every class absolutely adores you.

He wonders if you’re a robot. Maybe you’re some sort of artificial intelligence sent there to conduct studies on humans’ stupidity, and he was unlucky enough to start a fight with you. You just don’t seem real. And he’d love to dig deeper but he doubts he will find anything relevant.

You might be smart, but you also look incredibly boring. He tried to find out if you had interests, or anything that could distract you, but his research led nowhere. The biggest problem is that he hates you, but not to the point that he wants to get you suspended from University, so he has to find another way to make you slip.

Apparently, you’re playing the same game, but even at this, you are thinking faster and smarter.

“Where the fuck are all my anthropology notes?” Haechan mutters as he looks through his library, moving books and notebooks around, thinking he has gone insane. “Mark!” He screams, rushing to the desk to search again but he knows where he left everything; on the second shelf of the small library in his room, on top of the music theory book that hasn’t moved since a week.

“Yes?” His housemate peaks from the door only with his head.

“Did you mistake our notes?”

“What notes?” Mark furrows, backing away from his friend who looks out of his mind.

“The anthropology notes,” he says, voice full of annoyance because, why does Mark never know anything? He’s in the same course and, yet, he’s always somewhere else with his head. 

“Man, I don’t even take notes during that lesson.”

“What do you mean you don’t? Ugh, never mind,” Haechan groans, rolling his eyes because he can’t believe he can’t count on anybody. “Have you seen them somewhere?”

“Nope,” Mark replies, entering the room. “I mean, I don’t know what they look like.”

“You know right we have a test tomorrow? The winter break is close, and some courses have it. You are studying, right?”

“Yeah, just not every…thing…”

Haechan rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Why don’t you like it? I mean, I know it’s not really music related but it teaches you so much about other cultures and there’s a whole part about how music is different from culture to culture.”

“Next semester, we didn’t get there, yet. It’s a bunch of complicated terminology and theories I just don’t get,” Mark defends. He never understood why Haechan loved studying so much. He is only there for the music, and a few other theoretical lessons, but some courses don’t make any sense to him.  

“So you plan on being terrible tomorrow?”

“I just want a decent result; I don’t strive for perfection like you and your girlie.”

Haechan almost chokes on his saliva. “My girlie? Who’s my girlie?”

“That girl in class you always get into heated arguments with, and then she comes here and I’m pretty sure you make out when no one’s watching,” Mark says so calmly it infuriates Haechan more than if he was teasing him.  

“Shut the hell up! She’s my mortal enemy and while you have been paired with Yangyang for the song project, Professor Park thought it was nice putting her and me together.”

“Yeah, you can still make out with your mortal enemy,” he snorts, hitting his friend with a playful elbow hit.  

“Mark, shut up and leave, I have to study,” he tries to cut short, pushing his friend out of the room.  

“With what notes?”

“I don’t know. I left them on the shelf, and nobody entered my room since Saturday when she — Oh, my God.”

When your name resonates in the empty classroom after you’ve taken the anthropology test, your blood freezes for a second.

“Haechannie,” you cheer cheekily, turning around and pushing your tote bag far up your shoulders.

“Don’t,” he warns, lifting a finger to stop you from starting anything. “I have to talk to you.”

“Sure, the test was easy, right? You might have beaten me this time,” you say but you have to hold back a laugh when you scan his furious, pissed-off expression.

“Yeah, if you studied, it was,” he retorts venously.  

“And you surely studied,” you say, faking innocence.  

“You can study when you have something to study on,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yes, and you do,” you still play dumb, but when he calls your surname, you know he’s not joking anymore. “Yes?”

“Do you, perhaps, know where the fuck my notes are?”

You look around, shrugging. “Where are your notes, Donghyuck?”

“I don’t know, I’m asking you for a reason,” he retorts, plastering a fake smile that doesn’t reflect in the darkness of his pupils.

“They might’ve mixed up with my stuff when you invited me over Saturday?” You sing-song, tilting your head to the side and shrugging.

“Might’ve,” he repeats, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “It was just a coincidence.”

You shrug again, pushing your lower lip in a pout. “Sometimes… things happen.”

“And if it wasn’t on purpose, why couldn’t you just text me?”

“Because I didn’t notice,” you reply innocently, batting your lashes, knowing it will get on his nerves even more.  

He groans, closing his eyes to calm himself down before he speaks again, “then how do you know?”

“Don’t know, just making assumptions,” you say. “It turns out I’m really good at it.”

“I swear, I — I want to… I want to —”

“To what? Choke me because I got my revenge? Oh, it turns out it’s really not that funny when someone plays with you?” You mock, and in doing so you get closer to him.

“Goddamn,” he groans before your back meets the hard wall of the room and his lips meet yours in a heated kiss, his hands on your body and yours limp at your side as you’re too shocked to react. “I want to — I want to kill you, actually.”

You smirk, chuckling straight at his face. “Filled the space with the wrong letter, ‘cause you’re kissing me.”

“Maybe my kiss is lethal, maybe there’s poison on my lips.”

“Oh, you’re so romantic you’d die for me?” You coo, placing a hand on your heart.

Haechan groans, throwing his head back. “Why are you always so, so, so, God,” he curses, running his fingers in his hair. “I want my notes back, now.”

“I don’t have them,” you say, grinning because he looks wrecked. You know it wasn’t very morally mature for you, but it was only fair. Also, you know he doesn’t arrive last minute with anything, he had already studied everything and you’re sure he had answered everything on that paper, he just couldn’t revisit.

“My notes back when you pass by for the project or it’s war.”

“It’s already war,” you retort when he walks past you to leave.  

Haechan turns around, locking his gaze with yours. “Oh, honey, it can get so much worse than this.”

You felt like testing your luck when his notes weren’t back on his desk, but you had no idea it could get worse than that, until it got.

When he deleted an essay from your computer and you had to remake and finish the work of five days in five hours, so you cancelled a project he was working on for another assignment you had. And then he erased the recording of a course from your phone, so you ripped his notebook in front of his eyes (and his roommates too). The list of petty things is long, and you’re not really proud (you’re sure not even Haechan is) of what you did, especially when things started becoming personal. You two want to destroy each other, but you are honestly just killing yourselves in the meantime.

Your book slams closed so hard that you almost zip your hands in it, and by protecting your fingers you lose track of where you’ve been. “Get lost,” you whisper bitterly as soon as you recognize the hand that did that.

“No thanks,” he replies, sitting next to you.

“I’m trying to read a book in the quiet of the library, so can you leave me alone?”

“It’s a public space, I can sit wherever I want,” he replies, leaning back into the chair, and widening his legs under the table. You know ‘cause you feel his knee push against yours and you have to retract your leg to avoid the contact.  

You glare at him, breathing deeply through your nose because you can’t make a scene here. You two almost got kicked out of a class two days ago, and that was humiliating enough. So, you think that ignoring him is the best thing you can do.

“Wow, so you have a bit of self-control and don’t talk back. Never thought I’d see that day,” he replies sarcastically to your silence with an amused grin that curls his lips.

You hold back a scream and huff loudly, “I truly need you to get fucked right now.”

“Nevermind,” he jokes, pulling a tight forced smile and you close the book again, now too annoyed to even focus on the words on the paper. “I came here in peace, by the way.”

“Yeah, your peace is war in my country,” you reply bitterly, trying to shift away but those damn chairs make the loudest sounds at the smallest movements.  

“That’s because you’re full of prejudices.”

You inhale deeply, rubbing your temple to soothe the headache you know is about to arrive. “Haechan, tell me what you want and then leave me alone.”

He smiles, happy you are finally willing to listen, before he clears his throat. “Okay so, I have to say that some of this is funny. I mean, only the debates and these random talks, but I’m not the biggest fan of all the other stuff we’re doing, so why don’t we bring it back?”

“Bring it back? As in?” You question, raising a brow in confusion.

“I liked it better when we would just compete without tearing ourselves down. If you cancel, ruin, or save one of my projects with the word boobs in it before sending it to the professor another time, I will go insane.”

You hold back a chuckle. You have to admit it was your lowest move, but it was quite funny when Professor Choi had a whole talk in class about being careful before sending out finished projects and exposed him in front of the class.

“No, it wasn’t funny,” he mutters sternly, watching you fight with all the muscles of your face to don’t break into a laugh.

“No, sorry, it was,” you defend, voice trembling, threatening a chuckle to come out. “Like Iloveboobsdemo1 is the best thing I’ve ever come up with. That could be the title of our song.”

“If you want to get expelled from all the academies in the world that would be a perfect idea,” he says, trying to be serious because seriously it wasn’t funny, but when you stare into each other’s eyes for too long none of you two can hold back the laughter anymore. “Okay, fine. It was funny, but I don’t want that to happen again.”

“So? Do you give up?” You taunt, tilting your head after placing it on your palms.

“I’m not giving up, we are changing strategies of our combat.”

“Oh, okay. You will lose anyway in the end, so if this can be more beneficial for me in the meantime, it’s fine.”

He sighs, rubbing his temples, and you chuckle. “Don’t laugh,” he whispers distraught. “I… could you sometimes at least pretend to give me some kind of chance of winning with you and not feeling like you’ll always have the last laugh?”

“I just replied.”

“No, a reply would’ve been ‘Yes, Haechan, don’t worry, we can change it.”

“Too wordy,” you comment, waving him off with a movement of hand.

“You said like ten words more,” he replies, voice breaking in his throat in a whine, but you decide to act as if you don’t notice.  

“It still flowed better. See, that’s why the lyrics are in my hands. You’re really not good with words.”

“You keep doing that,” he groans, slamming a hand on the table, attracting some curious eyes on you before you glare them away. “But it’s fine, okay, so… no more dirty games? No more sabotaging?”

“Yes, no more. Well, not like this, but we can still play a bit, right?” You ask, retracting your hand right when you’re about to hold his to seal the deal.

“Yes, but nothing weird, or you know what I mean.”

You hum, reaching out again and shaking his hand. “It’s a deal, then?”

“It’s a deal.”

The deal somehow turns into Haechan always being next to you. He’s like a shadow, sitting next to you in class, studying with you in the library, and so on. You don’t mind him when he minds his business, but he rarely does. Especially during lessons when you need to focus on what the professors are saying.

You roll your eyes when Haechan sneaks a paper next to your notebook and you read ‘how would a dog wear pants’ with two badly drawn different options on it.

“Does it look like the right moment?” You whisper under your breath, side-eyeing him, and trying to keep your focus on the lesson. You see him nod and decide to mark the second option, thinking that he’d be happy with it, but he has the urge to hear a whole dissertation on something that will never happen, right now.

“Why?” He asks as if you’re not in the middle of a lecture.

“Not now.”

“But this lesson is boring,” he whines, poking your side with his elbow.  

You huff, covering it with a cough when you realize it is too loud, and then take a sip from your bottle of water.

“You didn’t answer,” Haechan insists, this time poking your arm with the cap of the pencil. 

“I picked one,” you mutter, pointing at the paper with your head.  

“Elaborate and change my mind.”

“You think it’s the first one?” You say in disbelief, the utter shock causing the tone of your voice to be louder than you expected.

“Any problems there?” The Professor asks, and you feel your blood freeze.

“Mh, no, nothing, my pen has no more ink, I was asking for another one,” you lie, thanking God you two are sitting far in the back of the class and the Professor can’t hear and can’t see that your pen isn’t dead at all. So, with a suspicious nod, the middle-aged man goes on with the lecture while Haechan giggles beside you.

You glare at him, and he shrugs raising his hands. “If you kept quiet, it wouldn’t have happened.”

“If you let me concentrate on the lesson instead of asking dumb questions, it wouldn’t have happened,” you retort, and he laughs under his breath again, but doesn’t ask more questions. He still ruins your notes with ugly flowers and other drabbles and you let him be because at least he’s being silent and paying attention.

“So, you really are giving up,” you say when the bell rings and the class starts emptying.

“What makes you think that?” He asks, putting his things in his bag, just like you.

“You didn’t write anything down.”

Haechan shrugs. “Why would I? I have your notes.”

“No, you don’t,” you say but before you can realize he rips the notebook from your hands and snaps a picture of the two pages you wrote. “Hey! That’s not fair. That’s my work.”

“Your amazing summarizing skills and my artistic skills. I don’t gift beautiful sunflowers to just anybody.”

“Beautiful sunflowers?” You snicker, starting to walk down the stairs, pushing the notebook into your bag as Haechan follows at your side. “If Renjun saw them he would have a heart attack.”

“Can’t compare Vang Gogh to Picasso.”

“Keep Picasso out of your mouth,” you say threateningly.

“Still, aren’t you happy you will think of me while studying?” He bats his lashes, and you hold back an entertained grin.

“Can’t wait to go through the absolute most painful ulcers every time I glance down on those things.”

He gasps offended, bringing a hand on his chest. “See, this is what happens when you spend all your days on socials and your brain doesn’t know how to appreciate real art anymore.”

“You are so annoying, and distracting. Next time if you sit next to me, I’ll push you off the chair,” you warn, and only when a colder blow of wind hits you, you realize you’re walking back to your places together.

“Right!” He says and you think it’s the good time he leaves you alone, but no, he’s not done. “You didn’t explain why the dog would wear it only on its hind legs.”

“Is it really that serious? Why do you want to know so badly?”

“It’s funny. I’m sick and tired of hearing you only discuss music, sociology, and the media and other stuff.”

You sigh. But you still have a bit to walk, so you might as well have to deal with him and his hypothesis about dogs. “Because pants have to cover your lower body, so legs, and ass and everything else. If you wear them like the first option, half of the ass is out. And also, the back limbs correspond to our legs, we’re divided in half horizontally, not vertically.”

He doesn’t reply right away, processing your answer. And you think you broke him.

“Oh!” You exclaim. “Zootopia, animals wear clothes like the second picture.”

“Really? You had a whole statement that made perfect sense and then you added a cartoon to your thesis?”

“But it still makes sense,” you argue back. “And, most importantly, I made you agree with me,” you wink before stopping when you reach your complex.

“Fine, fine, you’re right,” he gives up before looking behind you. “You live here?”

You nod, searching for the keys in the tote bag, and you think it’s time to stop pretending that’s Mary Poppins’ bag and throw away some useless stuff.

“I thought there were only rooms here,” he states, looking at the big complex a few meters away from the university.  

“There are common dormitories, and then there are some one-room flats. I got one with a scholarship when I graduated. It’s less expensive than an apartment and I get a small place all to myself.”

“Oh,” he whispers. He doesn’t know why he thought you had roommates. “So, you’re alone, alone?”

“No, you can’t come in,” you say.

“I didn’t ask that,” he frowns, offended you would even imply that. “I thought you… well, oh, never mind.”

“Yes, I’m alone, so I can do whatever the hell I want. If I want to cook, I cook. If I want to stay up all night to study, I do that. If I want to dry the clothes in the middle of the living room, that is also the bedroom and the kitchen, I do that.”

“Is it really that small?”

“It’s decent, I guess. It’s spacious enough to live in it comfortably but not big to the point I have to waste days cleaning it.”

“Maybe we could study there, no loud roommates screaming in the living room.”

“I like the mess of your place, and I’ll be there Friday.”

Haechan rolls his eyes. “Come on, I hate the library. Can’t we for once study at your place?”

“I never invited you to my studying sessions,” you groan.

“But you love it.”

“No.”

“Yes, you have an orgasm every time you know something better than me.”

“Please, shut up,” you wave him off, starting to walk away.

“I don’t care, I’ll be here tomorrow,” he screams when you’re too far, clearly running away from him.  

“And I’ll be at the library!”

You never go to the library, to be honest, you were just unlucky enough that the washing machine thought it was the right moment to leak all over the floor and Haechan found you at home with your coat on the couch, the tote bag next to the door and your jeans half soaked as you tried to fix the mess on the pavement.

From that moment, your meet-ups become more and more periodic, whether it’s at your place, his or at the library. You hate to admit it, but the competition drives you forward, and you love seeing his face every time you defeat him somehow.

“Are you busy this Saturday?” He asks while he strums with the guitar to come up with a chord progression for your song.

“Yeah, why?” You reply, poking the cap of the pen to your cheeks, drifting your eyes on him.

“Want to go out with me?”

“What? Saturday is my day to study and do my things like I want to,” you say. It was the only day, along with Sunday, you had to fix all your notes without being wrecked from the lessons of the day, or listen to lessons while cleaning the house, and so on. You tried to squeeze everything there so Sunday could be your free day and you could dedicate it to your hobbies and to write for the magazine you worked for, nothing too serious, just some money to add to the survival costs that your parents would send you, and the monthly entrance you had when you would get called to help a dance studio downtown.

“Great, we’re going out tomorrow.”

You huff, slumping back on the chair. “No, we’re not. I’m busy.”

“You can take one afternoon for me,” he replies, placing the instrument next to him. “Come on, it will be fun.”

“Where would you even take me?”

Haechan smirks. “It’s a surprise.”

When Saturday afternoon arrives, you don’t know how to feel. You spent the whole night trying to find a positive thing about it, and the good thing is that for once you are leaving the house to do something funny —you hoped so— not all by yourself. The bad thing is that the person you are going to do this thing with is Haechan.

You try not to worry about it too much, he’s not that bad when he wants to, and he’s funnier than you’d like to admit, so maybe taking a small break from the obsessive studying and tidying, will do you some good.

When you hear the knocks on the door, you grab your coat and your bag and head to open it.

“Hi,” he says. “Anything to fix before we leave?”

“Don’t say that, they will hear you and break all together.”

Haechan laughs, briefly looking at your body, mostly covered because it’s still cold outside and you have way too many layers on you. “Toy Story for home appliances?”

“Yeah, that would be my life,” you reply, closing the door behind you and walking outside of the complex. “So, where are you taking me?”

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” he says. “Don’t expect anything big, I just don’t want to hear you nag about it.”

“Hey, I appreciate almost everything.”

“Yeah, it’s the almost that worries me,” he says. “Hop in the car.”

“You have a car?”

“Yeah, it’s right in front of your eyes,” he answers, gesturing to the space next to you.  

You turn around, holding back a laugh when you see the old blue car, it’s surely a Hyundai, you have no idea about the model, but you know for sure it’s falling apart. “This is the car?”

“Yes, I’m sorry I’m poor.”

“It will get us killed,” you say opening the door, letting out a breath of relief when the handle doesn’t stay in your hold.

Haechan rolls his eyes and sits in. “Can you don’t be overdramatic for one second?”

“I’m stating facts. Are the airbags still working? Is the oil level high enough? The battery? And the water for —” Your eyes widen when his lips crash on yours. At first, it’s a harsh attempt to shut you up, but then his lips shily go for more, moving along yours with a small flame of need.

“I won’t kill you, but please shut up,” he begs when he pulls away, sooner than you want to, later than he should’ve.  

You gulp, trying to shake the dizziness and the way his kiss made you feel lightweight. You might occasionally still want to wrap your hand around his neck but he’s quite good at being a charmer.

“I’m giving you the privilege to pick the music,” he says once you’re on the open road, the lights of the city shine against the windows and the other cars pass beside you.

“Yeah, can I connect my Spotify to the car? Oh, wait, this model from the future directly brings the singers into your backseats so you can have a live concert,” you joke after seeing the car radio.  

“Wanted to take the metro?”

You laugh. “No, I’m just… why did you say that as if I could connect the aux or the Bluetooth? It was funny.”

“Fine, you’re forgiven,” he says. “Just play it through your phone.”

You hum, already deep into the scrolling of your music catalogue. “Can I put my driving playlist?”

“You have a car?”

“No, I have a driving playlist.”

“Why would you have a driving playlist if you don’t have a car?”

“Because right now it comes useful,” you wink, pressing play without waiting for his answer.

Haechan smiles, quickly glancing at you before his attention is fully on the road. “Baekhyun?” He asks with surprise when the second song starts. “You listen to Baekhyun?”

“Everybody should listen to him,” you reply, already getting defensive because his next words could be the last straw of your ‘relationship.’

“Oh God,” he whispers.

“If you tell me you’re a hater I’m jumping out of the running car and changing the trajectory of your life forever,” you warn, turning to the side to have a better view of him.

“Me? A Baekhyun hater? He’s my father! I just can’t believe you have some sort of sense and taste.”

You slap his shoulder, making the both of you break into a light-hearted laugh.

“You scared me for a second,” you say, placing your hand on your beating heart.  

“Sorry. So, it turns out we have one thing in common,” he jokes, creases creating at the corner of his eyes as his features soften and a genuine smile blooms on his face.

You shrug. “I mean, we have many things in common, actually. That’s why we get along so badly. Maybe it’s true, opposite attracts and that’s why we don’t attract.”

“I think we do attract… proved it a few times.”

“Once,” you reply immediately.

“Twice, with the kiss…”

“You did that to shut me up.”

“I don’t shut up just…” anybody… “I felt like kissing you.”

You smirk, loving watching him struggle. “Nothing wrong to admit you find me attractive,” you tease.

“Unfortunately, your mouth ruins everything.”

“My mouth is the thing that attracts you the most about me, or else you wouldn’t keep lingering around me like bees on honey.”

“Bees make honey, they’re not attracted to it. Bears are.”

“Yeah, you look like a bear, you know?”

He glares at you, and you laugh. “Bears are cute.”

“And attracted to honey.”

“And do I look like honey?” You ask teasingly. “Wait! You always call me honey!”

“It’s a mockery honey, not a sweet honey. You’re not my honey.”

You think about it. “You’re not my honey… could be a line of our song.”

“No academy talking today. It’s forbidden. You have to forget about uni.”

“Fine, I’ll forget about it just for today.”

The dates with Haechan, you can call them dates, right? Well, anyway, whatever they are, they become more common. At first, you tried to reject his weird, most of the time, last minute, proposal, because they would throw in the air all of your plans, but after a while, you somehow still found a way to go back on track without screwing up your academic goals.

“Why don’t you stay?” Haechan asks. It’s another Friday afternoon, and you two met up to go on with the song’s project. Much to your dismay, you have to admit you are the one who’s holding you two back. It’s like words can’t come out of you, not like you want to, at least. But Haechan’s not mad at you. Actually, you like the atmosphere around you when you lock in his room for those sessions. One time, he even made you try edibles to see if you could come up with something, but you ended up making out on the floor instead, so you stopped going for that path.

“I don’t know,” you say, huffing when you glance at the words in front of you and remind yourself that they don’t make sense. “I was thinking of going home and maybe listening to your tracks and…”

“Come up with something?” He drags the chair closer to you and steals your papers to read them. “It’s not as bad as you made it to be.”

“Yeah, it’s a good song, but it’s basic. And I feel like it’s a bit… cliché.”

“You do know that everything has already been written?” He jokes, but it’s not a teasing remark, it’s the truth, and he’s genuinely trying to lift your spirit.  

“I know, but it’s not my style, this is not how I usually write, I —”

“You write?” He stops you and only then you realize what you said. “Like, you have written songs before?”

You nod, shame pervading you when he stares at you with an expression you can’t comprehend. “Are you going to make fun of me?”

“No, I just thought you preferred lyrics over production, but I had no idea you were a lyricist.”

“Now, lyricist… I try, sometimes…”

Haechan smirks, poking your tummy making you cover it with your arms. “So there is something you’re insecure about.”

“Oh, I knew you were going to have a ball about this,” you groan, rolling your head back.

“No, hey, it’s just… I’ve never seen you like this about something you do. You are confident, usually,” he explains with no hint of mockery in his voice.

You sigh, looking at your feet tapping the ground and then look back at him. “It’s just… very personal,” you confess. “I think it’s clear I don’t have lots of friends. I used to, back at home, but here I’m alone. But even back then I’ve always felt like there was something I couldn’t completely let out. That’s why I love dancing, I can express myself in a different way, but I found out it still wasn’t enough and when I started playing the piano again I… started writing. It started almost as a joke, and it was a cheesy break-up song when my ex cheated on me, like the cheap version of drivers license,” you joke and he laughs with you.

“But it was still better than this, I guess?”

You hum, shaking your head. “Nah, my first song was a mess, but then it was like I just couldn’t stop writing, so my songs became my diary. Every time something happens, I write about it.”

He hums, moving the chair closer until your legs intertwine. “So, to write a love song you would need to fall in love?”

You’re taken aback by his question, and don’t reply right away. “No, I just need to be inspired. I’ll watch some movies, and it will come to me.”

His face twists in mild disgust as he shakes his head. “Movies are fake, it’s better to live things on your skin.”

“I don’t have time to date, and I can’t just find someone that easily,” you say laughing. “But don’t worry, I won’t make us fail. I’ll try to edit this and make it work if I really can’t come up with anything else.”

Haechan is not convinced, it’s clear in his face and the way his leg is bouncing nervously, but he doesn’t get back on the conversation. “Are you staying?”

“I have some notes to edit and —”

“You have tomorrow,” he cuts you off. “Come on, I have to do it too.”

You groan, hating the way you can’t say no to his big eyes staring at you. “Fine, but not too much.”

It’s useless to say that none of you get those notes written better.

“God, are you fucking Professor Kim?” Haechan growls, grabbing your wrist and stopping you in the college corridors right out of Music History class, the last lesson of Tuesday.

“What?” You babble out, surprised by his angry tone and his speculation.

“No cause you’re his favourite and it’s driving me insane,” he utters under his breath, glaring at you.

“I’m his favourite?” You tease, tilting your head to the side, loving the fire that turned on between you two. It had been three calm months, the bickerings were too intellectual and you missed this.

“Yeah, I gave him the exact same answer and he found the tiniest thing to say I wasn’t right, just so he could hear yours instead and praise you.”

“Oh, poor baby boy, Professor Kim didn’t give you head pats and now you’re mad?” You pout, patting his head in a mockery gesture. 

Haechan groans, throwing his head back, and pushing you into the nearest empty class, closing the door behind.

“Haechan, what are y—”

“Shh,” he says, shushing you with a stern gaze and a squeeze of your wrist. “You passed by his office the other day, didn’t you? Needed extracurricular help ‘cause you didn’t understand something,” he mocks with a high-pitched voice. “Taught you how to play his flute in a historically accurate way?”

You’d love to laugh at his terrible blowjob-music reference but when his gaze darkens, you only chuckle, and that’s enough to drive him mad.

“God, for you is just a game, isn’t it?”

“You really think I fucked Professor Kim?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure he fantasizes about having you bent over his desk and, fuck, it drives me mad.”

“You wish he fantasized about having you bent on his desk?” You joke, smirking.

He groans. “No, I hate the way he looks at you, and talks to you, the last thing he had to do today was to call you a good girl in front of the whole class.”

Your lips curl in an amused grin, but your heart —and something else— flutter at the way he says ‘good girl,’ you try not to show it and go on with your teasing. “Not my fault I’m good, and I’m interested in his subject.”

“Your fault you lick his boots,” he groans, pushing you flat against the door, standing so close to your nose. “I know you’re smart and you don’t need to ride a dick to be first in class but…” he stops, inhaling your scent, and leaning against your forehead.

You lift his head with two fingers under his chin, and lean in, whispering, “you still want to see me bent over a desk, and you want to be the one railing me, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t reply, not verbally at least. The only answer is a guttural moan and two arms lifting you, making your legs wrap around his waist as he kisses you roughly.

“Hyuck,” you moan into the kiss when he starts walking toward the desk, sitting you on the edge.

“Yeah?”

“We can’t — we — this is, we can get expelled…”

He snickers. “Be quiet and nobody will even hear us.”

“What if they lock us inside?”

“Shut up,” he groans again, kissing you another time as his bag drops on the floor. “You drive me so fucking mad, you have no idea.”

You snicker under your breath, but your heart loses a beat when his hands roam on your thighs, moving closer and closer to your heat. “Wait,” you whisper.

“Wait, what?” He hums, cupping your chin and lowering your head, staring straight into your eyes. Haechan scoffs when your thighs squeeze against each other and he can see you gulping. “Don’t act like you don’t want this,” he whispers, leaning closer to your lips, making you believe he’ll kiss you, but you only get a taste of his thumb rubbing over your full lips, “don’t act like you don’t want me.”

“Haechan!” You scream when he rips off your tights, the tear of the fabric resonating in the room as you look down in shock. “I’m gonna kill you,” you groan but he’s not bothered in the slightest.

“They were getting in the way, and I get rid of everything that gets in my way,” he says with a smirk.

You laugh mockingly. “Then why am I still here?”

His brows furrow and a small pout forms on his face but he shrugs it off. “I’m taking care of you, I told you,” he groans, kissing you harshly. “You’re not winning the war.”

“Oh, and your military strategy is to fuck me?”

“Yeah, until you forget everything.”

You huff loudly when he finishes ripping the tights from your legs, the only pieces left the ones trapped in your shoes, and you’re glad the skirt is long enough to don’t make you freeze on the way back home.

“So much better,” he says proudly, staring at his work of art, letting his hands wander on your now bare skin. “And, now, let’s find out if there’s a way to shut you up.”

You look at him in anticipation, waiting for his next move as if your life depends on it. And you hate to be so eager, you hate you fantasized on it more than you should’ve, but you want to know what his lips feel like. And it’s almost as if Haechan hears your secret thoughts.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He taunts, kneading his fingers on your flesh.

“Nothing,” you mutter, trying to sound more confident than what you are.

Haechan laughs at you, shaking his head as he slowly gets on his knees, looking up at you. “You are always so fucking proud and annoying.” His hands rest on your knees before he pushes them far apart, forcing you in place as you uselessly try to close your legs. He tsk, shaking his head. “Don’t act ashamed, I’ve already felt you, and tasted you.”

You don’t reply. It’s hard to keep eye contact but this is bigger than sex, this is a game between you two and, he might not beat you in class, but he’s beating you right now.

His laugh brings you back to earth and you hate the smug smirk that’s sitting on his face. “So you do get quiet, thought I needed to give you a taste of my mouth to shut you up.”

You open your mouth to retort but the stern glare that flashes on his face is enough to put you back in your place.

“Good girl,” he says and your body trembles before you can even try to hide it. “Should I get a better taste of you?” He stares at you, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come, not like he wants to at least. “Use your words, babe. You know how to run that mouth when you want to, so, beg for it.”

“Fuck, no,” you retort, trying to move away but his hold on you doesn’t give any signs of loosening up.

“Okay, then,” he says, slowly standing up, and grabbing his bag. “See you around.”

“What?” You squeal, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving,” he replies, shrugging.

“That’s not fair,” you reply, and he snickers.

“What? Are you wet? Do you want me?”

You don’t expect that reply and struggle to find the words, even more now that he’s standing between your open legs, keeping them apart, and his eyes are staring down at you, pinning you down in place. “I don’t want you,” you lie, swallowing the gulp in your throat when his right hand sits on your waist. “I just… I want to fuck.”

“Oh, do you? Well, there are plenty of people here, I’m sure many of them would want you. You know, even if you don’t pay attention to anybody, people look at you,” he whispers, caressing your jaw with his other hand. “First on the list is Professor Kim. Don’t you want to feel the thrill? Come on, go to his office now, so I can have something to hold against you forever.”

You chuckle. “Yeah? Want to blackmail me so I can do all the essays for you? Maybe you’ll get the best grades like this,” you tease, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt and making him groan.

He licks his lips, staring at yours, and you smirk. “I don’t need you to be first, and you know it.”  

“Do I?” you tease. “Want to be first at something?”

“Don’t,” Haechan warns, eyes darkening even more while the tent in his tight pants becomes even more evident.

“What? You can be the first one who fucks me on a desk if you quit playing hard to get.”

“I’m not playing hard to get,” he replies, leaning even closer, your bodies are pressed together and you can feel his hard dick press against you. “I won’t be the one begging, especially to eat you out,” he groans, cupping your chin unexpectedly. “Don’t act as if you didn’t think of this before. I’ve seen the way you get lost in my fingers when we study together. You see me twirl a pen in my hand and you wish I was inside you, don’t you? And when we argue? There’s always a small fragment where you lose focus and stare at my lips. Where do you want them, honey?”

Your brows furrow but your entire body reacts differently, a small shake, while wetness pools down your panties, soaking them even more, and your eyes close because you can’t bear his smug glare.

“I said,” he urges, giving a quick squeeze to your chin, “where do you want my lips?”

“On — on me,” you breathe out, voice muffled by the firm hold on your face.

His lips twitch as he leans closer and kisses your cheek. “Here,” he says, holding back a laugh when your eyes widen. “That was where you wanted them, right?”

“Oh, fuck off, you know what I meant,” you huff.

“No, I’m the dumb one, remember? You are smarter than me, you know everything. I’m always a step behind, I need you to guide me step by step,” he mocks in a condescending tone, pouting.

You take a deep breath. “I hate you.”

“Oh, I know,” he laughs. “But if you use just three magic words I’m sure you’re going to love me for a while.”

You don’t want to give up but you’re on fire, and you fear that the more time passes by the more someone could find you out.

“I’ll ask nicely one last time,” he whispers against your lips. “Then I’ll ask you to do something for me and you’ll lose my lips for the second time. Where do you want them?”

“On my pussy,” you whisper, not meeting his eyes.

“Fucking finally,” he laughs. “Was it so hard Miss big brain?”

“Stop mocking me!”

“Mocking you?” He asks, getting on his knees again before grabbing your panties to pull them down. “I might hate you but it would be dumb to not recognize your qualities, right?”

You don’t reply, you have other things to worry about. For example, your mortal enemies kneeled between your legs in an empty class of your Academy, staring into your soul, ready to eat you out.

“So, since you’re so good with words, here we go again. Beg.” Haechan craves putting his lips on you just as you do, but this is the only moment he can have some power over you. And after the humiliation of today’s class, he has to make you pay for it a bit. Or maybe he just wants to hear that even if you’d choke him and slap him, you still want him.

“Please, Donghyuck, please,” you plead, looking into his eyes.

He’d love to hear you beg for him more, but the way your cunt is dripping on the desk is already enough to tell him how much you want him, and for now, it’s enough.

When his lips come in contact with your skin your legs immediately hook around his shoulders and you can feel the chuckle on your wet folds.

“Eager, honey?”

“Just, please, eat me out already,” you barely have time to finish that he stops playing around and starts moving his mouth on you. Your head falls behind while your thighs squeeze tighter around his face. Your hands clench on the edge of the desk as you try to keep your balance, but it gets harder with every lick of his tongue.

“Keep quiet, the door is closed not locked,” he reminds you, pulling away from you just to pick up again.

You try to don’t be too loud, but he’s better than you expected and maybe this was the wrong time to try this out. You should’ve simply begged him to fuck you, but now that you’re in the middle of this, the last thing you want is to stop him.

One of your hands is brave enough to let go of the hold on the desk and reach his hair to push him closer to your body, surprising him.

Haechan always thought you were much more shy than this, honestly, he didn’t even hope much for this to happen. But you surprise him, not only you let him have you in a random class at your university but you are also pushing him closer.

“You are eager,” he muffles against you, he can’t pull away when you’re pressing him down with so much force, but the way you’re acting is setting him on fire. He loves hearing you moan and whimper, not a word coming out of your pretty lips to confront him, just bliss on your face and voice. And that pushes him to give you even more, putting his entire self into eating you out until he almost drags screams out of you, making both of you forget where you are.

You’re not sure how many minutes pass by but when the orgasm rushes in your body you feel it’s too close. You’d probably force him down for another round if you were in any other place but you don’t feel brave enough.

“So? Disappointed?” He asks, cleaning his chin as he stands up, reaching you again. “Don’t lie, you’re still dripping down the desk, you’re even more turned on than last time.”

“I’m not,” you lie. You know you are, and Haechan knows it too.

“What is it? The thrill of being caught? My skills? Just me, or something else?”

You don’t know why you reply with what you reply, but you do. “Maybe someone else,” you tease, not even sure he’ll take the bait, but he’s too caught up in you to see the games you’re playing.

“Yeah? And who’s that?”

“See, I always believed you were perspicacious and could catch details, I can’t believe you didn’t get it. You’re so sure Professor Kim wants to fuck me, ever thought I want him too?” You bat your lashes and Haechan tries to silence a groan, but you feel his fists clench at your sides.

“Don’t play with me, I’m not falling for this.”

You shrug. “Fine, I’ll still think about him while you fuck m—” he shuts you up with a rough kiss, pushing you down the desk with a quick movement that makes your heart jump to your throat.

“He’s not even that hot,” he groans, turning you around before bending you on the desk, and pulling your skirt up around your waist. “And he’s not even that old, there’s not even the charm of the dilf.”

“He’s smart,” you talk back, not sure how much you can pull your luck.

Haechan scoffs, slapping your ass. “Not smarter than me.”

“You’re not the professor so…”

“A degree means nothing,” he says, his chest pressing against your back. “What’s that you like so much about him?”

You chuckle. You’re not sure if he’s playing into your game or is just so easy to fool, but either way, you decide to keep going. “Everything. Don’t you see him?”

Haechan groans. Out of all the people, out of all the professors, he has a very personal beef with him that started at the start of the year and the way you just praise him so much —even outside of this specific situation where he got you’re messing up with him— drives him insane.

“Because he’s the best at everything? Isn’t he?”

You nod, expecting him to talk back but the only answer you get is the sharp sound of his belt being pulled away from his pants and smacked against your ass. “Fuck,” you curse, hating the way your body buzzes with pleasure at the impact.

Haechan chuckles. “I wonder what he would think of you if he saw you like this.”

“He wouldn’t think,” you say. “He’d act, fucking me like I deserve instead of wasting time like you.”

When his cock fills you up with no warning you almost scream but his hand is quicker at reaching your mouth.

“Yeah, would he fuck you better?”

You groan in his hand, but your brain goes blank with each thrust into you, pulling his hips back before he snaps them forward, so forcefully that you slide upward on the desk and he has to pull you down so that your hips don’t hit the wood.

“Answer me,” he urges, making a makeshift ponytail with your hair to force you up. “Would he?”

“I… I don’t know,” you cry out, feeling him deep inside of you, filling you perfectly.  

“You just have to test me until I snap, don’t you?”

“He seems —fuck— fitter than you.”

Haechan snickers mockingly. “Yes? You want to be thrown around? Like you’re worth nothing? Do I have to do that to make you feel good?”

You shake your head, ass perking up, your feet on their tips as you try to keep balance.

“No? Is being fucked in a class enough for you? Does it satisfy your needs?” He hisses, eyes rolling back when he focuses them where your bodies meet, your cum dripping down his length and balls. He can’t believe how turned on you are. “Thought you were innocent but look at you.”

“Not my fault you don’t catch details,” you retort with a small bit of sanity —not really— you have in you.

“Details? Or maybe you’re just an actress. Making everyone believe you only think about grades and studies and here you are, drooling while I fuck you over a desk. Begging for my dick.”

You don’t even realize you are drooling down the desk and when you’re about to clean your chin, Haechan grabs your hands and pins them in place behind your back.

“No,” you whimper, falling flat with your chest pressing down the wooden table.  

“Yes, honey,” he mocks. “I want to see you become a mess for me. Should I take a snap of you like this? Send it to Professor Kim so he can see he will never have you like this?” He whispers against your ear. “Think I don’t know it was all a play? Not only you don’t like him, but you wouldn’t risk your reputation for a terrible fuck when you have a brain like yours.”

Your pussy clenches. It’s the way his voice sounds like velvet, it’s how deep it’s hitting you, it’s in his words, and the way it turns you on that your number one rival, the one that despises you, still knows your value.

“Still, I’m pretty sure he wishes he could see you like this,” he adds, biting your earlobe. “A shame he can’t, right?”

“Y-yes,” you mumble in a pathetic wail.   

“But maybe I could still keep it to myself,” his hips start moving with more force and you can’t hold back your moans as you clench around him. “Yeah? Want me to take a photo of you like this?”

You wish you could reply but words just don’t come out of your lips, brain emptying and eyes rolled back in your skull.

“Maybe another time,” he says, breath getting ragged as he keeps fucking into you with determination. “Don’t really want to pull away to take a pic of us.”

“There — there won’t be —fuck— another time,” you reply, forcing yourself to speak.   

Haechan snickers. “The mess between your legs tells me otherwise,” he mocks, reaching in front of you to play with your clit, making you shake. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, you deserve good things, even a good fuck from me.”

“Too much,” you cry out, feeling your eyes getting wetter as the orgasm starts choking you.

“No, you just haven’t had a decent orgasm in ages,” he retorts.

“Shut up! You know —shit— you know nothing.”

“Honey, I can only imagine you playing with yourself, but your hands or toys don’t come close to me,” he says, so smugly you can feel the smirk on his face.  And you can’t even retort because —as much as you hate it— he’s right.

“Come here,” he says, putting a hand over your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “Are you close?”

You nod, biting your lower lip until it bleeds because you’re sure the sound of your ass slamming against his hips is already a giveaway of what’s going on inside this room. You clench around him when he bites down your shoulder to muffle a louder groan as his hips start moving faster as he chases his climax.

You feel your legs give up as the second orgasm hits you and you hold against the desk again because you don’t know where else to hold on to. Haechan tries to keep his curses low, sticking his face in the crook of your neck and you feel you could come again just by his voice alone; his moans the pretties sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Oh god,” you breathe out when he gently lets go of your body and you can relax on the hard surface again, squirming in discomfort when he pulls out of you.

“I hope you didn’t tear my panties apart, too,” you say, rolling on your back, making him laugh.

“Don’t move, you’ll stain the skirt, it’s the only clean thing on the table,” he says, grabbing a napkin to prevent you from making even more of a mess.

“And who’s fault is that?” You ask, glaring at him.

“You should just thank me for the orgasm, better, two orgasms, I gave you.”

You huff, rolling your eyes, but still letting him clean you up, after all, the cum was his, so it’s his place to clean it. After you’re sure you won’t ruin the last untouched piece of clothes you have, you sit up, taking your —uncomfortably— wet panties to put them on.

“So…” he whispers as he cleans up the rest of the mess on the table and shoves your broken tights in his bag, “it was just for fun, right? You have no intentions with Mr…”

You break down laughing. “You’re so easy to fool. You seriously think I’ll ever let him see me like this?”

Haechan scoffs, finishing fixing his clothes before walking to the door. “It’s not about what you would do, is if you think of him.”

“I don’t,” you reply, following him even if you feel like your legs could give up any second. “I wonder if your jealousy was also a play,” you tease, nudging him as you two walk down the corridor to leave.

“It wasn’t jealousy, you would just have terrible taste if you truly liked him, and I have beef with him.”

You chuckle, deciding to believe him.

“Wait,” he says, stopping to search for something in his bag.

“I’ll go for the door, reach me,” you say, starting to head on, you’re not even sure you two could be there at that time. “Lee Donghyuck,” you curse when you try to push open the front door. “What did I say?”

He walks toward you nonchalantly and shrugs. “Yeah?”

“They locked us in!”

He smiles, shaking his head, and grabbing your hand. “Can you run?”

“What?” You blink a few times, trying to understand how his question fits the situation.

“After I fucked you like that, can you run?”

“Shush,” you scold, fearful someone might hear, you’re not sure who since you seem to be completely alone, but better safe than sorry. “And no, I don’t know, I… why would we run?”

“Do you trust me?” He asks, reaching out his hand for you to take.

“No,” you say resolutely.  

“Good,” he smirks before he starts running into the corridors, giving you no chance but to follow him, cursing and damming every life decision that led you here, with cum threatening to leak out of you after you finished having sex in the class of your Academy and are now running to go God knows where, locked inside the institute.

“Hyuck!” You scream when he runs up the stairs and you swear you never felt so much adrenaline rush in your blood but when he looks back for a second and shows you his big bright smile with his hair falling in his face perfectly, you swear the world stops and all your worries are lifted from your shoulders. Maybe you trust him. Maybe you need to be this carefree sometimes.

Your heart jumps in your throat when he pushes open an emergency door and the mild breeze of March runs over you. You breathe in deeply, pushing into your lungs the air and the first early spring scent, letting the wind play with your hair and your clothes while your hand never lets go of his.

And then you both start laughing. Never looking back, and terribly looking forward, watching your steps as you run down the emergency stairs. You laugh, and you’re happy and you can’t believe your fingers are still intertwined with the ones of your mortal enemy.

When you reach the ground floor, hidden in the back of the palace where the sun doesn’t shine, there are still some tears spilling out of your eyes. You two pant, trying to catch your breath, and look at each other before you have to look away or else you will start laughing again.

You can’t believe you followed him blindly.

Your hands are still intertwined.

With each passing day, Haechan is convinced he has a perfect plan. It’s all part of the original plan, but if he gets you to try out romantic things, not only will he distract you from your perfect grades but he will also make you come up with a song that will give him a perfect score.

There are some small details that Haechan didn’t even consider. Detail number 1: where this could lead you two and your relationship. Detail number 2: that while distracting you, he will inevitably distract himself. But he doesn’t get it until it’s too late.

Haechan can’t remember when you started to dress up so much every time you hang out. You always dress well, or maybe he is biased for thinking that even the most basic white turtleneck shirt and cargo pants when you are too done with life to put up your skirts, dresses, or cutely styled other types of outfits, look amazing on you. Yet, during these last few dates, you started doing more, playing more with your hairstyles, trying different make-up, and always looking perfect in whatever clothes you put on your body.

Haechan hates you. Now more than ever because this was supposed to be your silly little race to the top of your second academic year and yet here he is, feeling his heart pound in his throat as you walk toward him. With your hair in a slicked-back ponytail, a freaking heart-shaped side part, your short red dress, while the white cardigan covers your arms and shields you from the light breeze, and your red short heels tap on the asphalt and bring his attention to the white socks that reach you right below your knees, while your hand clench around a heart-shaped bag.

He hates you because he wants you too badly and he’s terrified this is crossing the lines of bland and stupid physical attraction.

You smile, calling him Hyuck and he’d love to scream because he can’t be so smart and yet so dumb at the same time. But he tries to ignore it, and smiles back at you, addressing you with your surname so he can put some distance between you. You don’t even get mad anymore, it makes you smile tenderly as you lower your face to the ground and tangle your arm with his to walk to the car. Now he hopes that the old sardine can will make you two blow up, not to kill you, but to don’t make you accept a date from him anymore.

But that old car struggles but doesn’t crash, and drives you to the restaurant safely.

“This place is so pretty,” your voice rings in his ears, bringing him out of the thought he’s struggling with since you walked out of your apartment.

“Yeah, it’s musically themed, thought it was a good idea.”

“And the dishes also have song names? That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” your face lightens up when you scan the menu and in reflection, he does too.

What the fuck are you doing? He curses when he catches himself lost on you, too focused giggling like a child as you catch the references between the songs and the plates. You look like a cliché embodiment of love, and he thinks you’ve done it on purpose. It’s way past Valentine’s Day, but he feels that Cupid is flying right above you, ready to play him a dirty trick.

“So? You picked?” You ask, bringing him out of his thoughts, and he shakes his head, coughing while glueing his eyes on the menu.

“Nope, I’m a bit uncertain,” he says, pretending he wasn’t just too busy staring at you a few moments ago.

You laugh, humming. “Oh, I know.”

“What did you get?” He asks, meeting your eyes above the paper in his hand.

“I wanted to get the Summer 69’ appetizer first,” you reply and he smirks.

“Are you hinting at something?”

“Oh, shut up, you perv! It just looks tasty, there are different appetizers from different parts of the world and it’s a cold start.”

“Then we can take the big one so we can share?”

“Sure,” you reply, smiling at him. “Oh, and then ‘I wanna dance with somebody’ as the main dish.”

“Do you?” He winks.

“I’m not sending you signals, I’m just starving,” you reply, rolling your eyes, but he hears the low giggle that you try to hold back.

“Fine,” he smiles. “I’ll take ‘Maneater’ in your honour.”

“I’m a maneater? Oh, thanks, the best compliment ever actually,” you say playfully.

He smiles, stopping for a second after he hands you his menu. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” And when your mouth parts and no sound come out of it, he thinks he screwed it up. It’s not the first time he compliments you but well, the other times didn’t sound so serious.

But then your face breaks in a smile, and your eyes light up, shily diverting the gaze as you thank him before the waitress saves you both from the embarrassment that’s tangible in the air.

“Karaoke? Are you being extremely nice, borderline perfect, tonight so you can show me the biggest twist ever?” You gasp when the karaoke downtown enters your line of view. You’ve been walking for a while now since he couldn’t find a spot nearby, but he never mentioned where your next stop would be.

“I’m always nice to you when we go out on da— like this,” Haechan replies, opening the door of the place for you to get in first. “Also, since we’ll have to record the song soon, I think it’s time to test our vocal abilities.”

You giggle, waiting for him before you start walking to the desk to book a room.

“Karaoke is for fun, never to show off you’re like Celine Dion.”

Haechan chuckles, nodding in agreement while you reach the booth that the lady at the counter assigned you.

“Right, I’m more like Ailee, actually,” he jokes, closing the door behind you.

“Prove it to me, I always hear your mouth run to talk shit but never to sing melodies, so…”

“Should we go for a duet?” He asks, starting the TV to scroll down the songs listed.

“Nope,” you say, sitting on the couch. “A solo song first.”

“Fine,” he says, humming as the titles pass in front of your vision. “Mhh, what about Dean?”

“Love him, would love him more if he came back from the death and dropped another album of the year,” you say, sitting back to fully enjoy Haechan’s performance.

He chuckles at your comment. “This one was a painful reminder,” he says before clicking on “Instagram,” making the logo of the place appear before the countdown, signalling the beat was about to start.

You never thought you would find yourself so caught up in him but when he opens his mouth, you feel like you’re being taken to another world.

His voice sounds like honey, so raw yet so lovely. And as he keeps singing, you think that he would be wasted as a producer, a voice like his deserves to be heard by everyone. But when he finishes, you don’t show any of the emotions you felt.

“Your performance was very touching,” you say while standing up to grab your mic, “but I’m a performer, so I’ll go with Queen Britney.”

“Can’t wait to see your Superbowl worth it performance,” he snickers, sitting back against the small couch in the room as he watches you getting ready.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you start, winking at him and swinging your hips to follow the rhythm of the music.

Haechan would love to find it as funny as he does at the start, but when you start singing for real, and moving around in the small boot, he gulps, feeling the air around him starting to dim. And it only gets worse when you turn around and start to perform for him. Of course, you know the song by heart, you don’t need to read the words, and you don’t need them to change colour to know when each verse, chorus and bridge starts.

“Oops, I did it again, I played with your heart,” you wink, tilting your head to the side, still moving your body to the beat. He can’t tell, not right at the moment, but he thinks you’re replicating the choreography. That’s the last worry in his mind.

I played with your heart.

And Haechan thinks you really did that. This doesn’t feel like a game anymore, and not even like sex. He looks at you, even right now, that you’re sensually singing a Britney Spears song, and he can only fucking smile like an idiot.

“Wow,” you exhale when the song ends, fanning yourself with your hand, “it’s really hot in here.”

“It definitely is,” he whispers, drifting his gaze from you.

“So? How was I?” You ask, head tilted to the side, and a big, bright smile on your face.

“Good,” Haechan mutters, catching himself staring at you for too long again, shaking his head, the red blush on his face is humiliating. “You were good.”

“Yes,” you cheer, clapping your hands. “Should we duet, now?”

He hums, grabbing the remote again and searching ‘duets’ in the search bar. “Sad, sexy or silly?”

You roll your eyes. “Really?”

“What? I’m trying to understand the vibe we want to go with.”

“I’ll let you pick,” you say just to regret it when you see the song choice on the screen. “Seriously? Anything you can do?”

“What? It’s fitting for how relationship,” he says nonchalantly.

“That’s a crazy choice.”

“Worried you can’t actually do better than me?” He winks, passing you the mic as the song loads on the screen.

“You’ll see,” you challenge with a glare.

One minute into the song you regret having agreed to that, not remembering the last time you sang like this, but the look on his face when it’s time for you to hold a long note for 15 seconds is worth it. And it keeps going until the end, as you both surprise each other with all the skills that this song requires.  

“Wow, you’re good,” you both say when the song ends and you break down laughing, a sound that grows bigger when the screen lights up to show a perfect score.

“Maybe we make a great couple together,” you say, laying back on the couch, tired from the singing.

Haechan turns to you, smirking and nodding. “I guess we do.”

You sit up, resting your chin on his arm. “Can you take another one?”

“Oh, don’t test me, baby.”

“So, ice cream is good for vocal cords?” You giggle as you walk to the side of the Han River with the ice cream in hand. It seemed like Haechan didn’t want to end the night anytime soon, but you don’t feel like complaining.

“Yeah,” he hums with conviction, licking another stripe of chocolate.  

“On which book you’ve read this scientific fact?”

“The ice cream ghost came to me one night and whispered the secret to my ear,” he jokes, making you laugh.

“Uhm, yeah, I think that ghosts are much more reliable than old men in white coats in a lab,” you joke, but then you remember something you wanted to talk about since you’ve walked out of the karaoke. “Mhh, you know what I was thinking?”

Haechan shakes his head, waiting for you to talk.

“I think we’re going down the wrong path with our song,” you voice out. “Especially me. A warmer, darker, I dare to say more sensual vibe, fits us better.”

Haechan chuckles and you glare at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he giggles, but he can’t lose against you so he goes on. “That’s the production, you know?”

You huff, rolling your eyes, and jumping on the handrail to sit. “I never said it wasn’t important.”

“Whatever,” he snickers. “So I have to scrap everything I’m working on?”

You shake your head, cleaning your hands after swallowing the last bite of the cone. “No, I was thinking about the second base you were working on, the one with the guitars and violins, remember?”

He hums, but he’s dangerously close to you, and you don’t understand why his hands wrap around your waist.

“I think we could use that and —” you gulp when he places his feet on the handrail under you and reaches your height, “and then I can change small things of my — my writing to fit more. What do you think?”

He smiles before it turns into his usual smirk. “I still think you’re worrying too much and you’re not letting it come to you,” he whispers, and the air of his breaths puffs on your lips before he erases the space between you and kisses you.

You feel your breath taken away as you feel like you’re falling behind in the river as the wind blows harder and your hands immediately leave the handrail to reach for him.

You’re not sure that wasn’t an attempted murder from him, but you can’t care when you feel your heart flutter and your legs give up as he deepens the kiss.

“Let it flow,” he whispers, kissing you again, whispering against your lips, “and the song will come at you.”

You know it’s not what he’s talking about, but you kiss him again, this time pushing him down so your feet are on the ground again. Your hands are holding tight on his sweatshirt as you pull him even closer and he does the same wrapping his arms around your frame tighter.

You find yourself in the same position in the living room of his apartment, struggling to make it to his bedroom without waking some of the others up. Not that you care much, it would be fair payback for all the chaos they make when you and Haechan are studying together.

The clothes fall on the floor as quickly as he’s on top of you on the bed.

“I hate that I have to ruin your pretty face,” he whispers, fingers deep inside your sopping wet cunt, pumping in and out painfully slowly as he stares at your face, a cute mix between ecstasy and annoyance because he’s giving you something but not enough. “The red eyeshadow looks really good on you, you know?”

You groan, rolling your head back. “It’s not time for compliments.”

“I’ve been complimenting you all night,” he says, teasing your clit with flicks of his thumb but without giving you much. “It is a shame you will look like a mess once I’m done with you.”

“We can’t be loud,” you say, hating that, for one reason or another, you two always have to keep quiet.

“Nah, Jeno has his headphones on playing games with Yangyang. Renjun has headphones on with music to don’t listen to Jeno. Mark’s not home and not even bombs wake Jaemin up.” The explanation is particularly non-sexy now that he has his fingers inside of you and it doesn’t make you relax much, but you hum nonetheless and beg him to keep going.

“Patience, honey. We’ve got all night,” he smirks.

“Yeah but —”

“Ah, ah,” he says, clicking his tongue and silencing you with a finger on your lips. “What did I tell you before? Let it flow.”

“It was different it was —ugh,” you mumble when he covers your mouth with his hand, eyes widening before they narrow to send him a deadly glare, but he only smirks. He has control now. He always does when he has you underneath him, he still has to fight with you a bit, but you both know this is the only time he can ever win against you. And tonight is special, he wants you to let go of the reins completely, he wants you brainless, because even if your brain is the sexiest thing of you —yeah, yeah, and the thing that is making his college years hell on earth— your brain is also the thing that makes you obsess over the smallest thing and doesn’t make you follow your heart so freely.

Yeah, tonight Donghyuck wants you free, but for the sake of the dirty talking later —and to fool himself he doesn’t care about you that much— he’s going to say he wants you dumb.

And he’s starting strong tonight, his beautiful, long fingers reaching deep inside you, hitting right against your sweet spot, causing so much cum to pool around them and drip down while your pussy clenches hard and your hips buck up to ride the pleasure with him. And you don’t have it in you to fight; it feels too good, especially when he starts rubbing your clit and whispers dirty talk about how well you’re taking him.

Your eyes flutter open, just in time to catch the proud smirk on his face as he stares at your body, you dare to say, in awe. It shouldn’t warm your heart, but it does. You don’t even care if he sees you like a prize he won, right now, because even if he does, you know he only fights hard to win the trophies he cares about. He wants you, he likes you, even. Between the hate and the tension, something about what attracts you two together makes this work. And it’s fine.

“Hyuck,” you breathe out, chest panting and toes curling as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach. But you don’t expect the next words that come out of your mouth. “Kiss me.” When you realize what you said, you anticipate him mocking you, your ears already hear the snicker you know, oh so well, but it never arrives. What arrives are his lips on yours as he leans down, pressing his chest against yours while his fingers keep working wonder inside you.

The kiss is passionate, but not rough like the ones you’re so used to sharing. There’s no anger in it, just need and greed, and chemistry. So much chemistry, your hands have to run in his hair and tug them, making him moan and his dick throb against your thigh.

“I want you so bad,” he slurs against your lips. “I will do some dumb shit one day for you.”

You don’t get what he means. You don’t even know what he could mean by that given the nature of your bond, but his words, mixed with the sultry tone of his voice, are enough to make you come. You barely register the orgasm, hitting you like a singular explosion of a firework, leaving you gasping, exploding as quickly as it came yet slowly running through your bones as the feeling tones down.

Haechan snickers softly. “You love it when I get in trouble for you, don’t you? Even when it’s just a promise.”

Your lips part to reply but he shuts you with a kiss. “No talking, not unless I tell you to. I know everything I need to know, your body tells me that,” he says, grinning like an idiot when he shows you his cum coated fingers, tapping them against your lips, silently ordering you to taste yourself. You would never do that, but tonight it’s like he’s commanding you like a puppet on a string, and you obey. Closing your lips around him and sucking hard.

He smirks, feeling his dick get even harder as he stares at your lips. “That’s what I do to you, pretty girl. And I’m not even started.”

Your pussy throbs in anticipation while he pulls his fingers out. You know he’s one to keep promise, and you can’t wait for what’s to come. But he’s taking too long, and you can feel his hard dick against your leg, so your hand creeps down to touch it.

“You’re not in command tonight, angel,” he says, grabbing your wrist to stop you from moving your hand on him.

“But I want you,” you whine, trying to win him with a pouty look on your face.

It doesn’t work as he pushes your hand over your head and leans in. “Patience, princess. Keep quiet, don’t be greedy and just trust me. Can you do that? Or is it too hard for you?” He groans against your ear, making your hips buck up.

“I — I can,” you whisper but he stops with a glare and your brain replays his words ‘quiet, no words from you tonight,’ and he means it. So you nod, breathing in deeply as you feel weak in the knees for the way he looks at you.

“Good girl,” he says, pushing up to stand between your legs, pushing them open.

When he slips inside you, you gasp, dragging your nails on his back. “Are you alright?”

You nod, forcing yourself to look into his eyes.

“Good, and now,” he whispers, kissing your lips, and dragging out of you, “I want you to give into me and completely turn your brain off. You have me, that’s all you need right now.”

When he starts moving in and out, your body succumbs to the pleasure. Your muscles relax as you let him take care of you. His lips trace over your sensitive skin, leaving kisses on your neck and chest. His hands run over your body, touching and squeezing every inch. And he reaches so deep inside of you that you feel you can barely breathe.

“Just like this,” Haechan whispers close to your ear, gently biting the skin on your jaw. “Don’t think about anything,” he groans, hitting you deep after pulling out of you completely. “Not a single worry in that pretty brain of yours.”

You rarely let him win, but you have to admit that the way he makes you feel, the way he can lift all the stress off your shoulders, is a talent. He knows what he’s doing, and the scary thing is that he knows how to get you. So easily wrapped around his fingers, crumbling into nothing at his tiniest touch.

You whimper loudly when his fingers press against your clit, seeing stars at the new stimulation.

“You can take it,” he groans. You’re about to talk but he traps your lips in a messy, wet kiss as he pulls you closer by your waist, hitting even deeper. “You’re a good girl, right? You can take it.”

You’re doubtful, but you do take it, over and over again. You lose track of time and stop counting your orgasms after the third. There’s no need for that. All you need is the pleasure Donghyuck gives you, fucking you until both of you can’t do it anymore.

There’s nothing left once it’s over, no strength to talk or clean up the mess, just the warmth of your bodies cuddled against each other.

“Good morning, I will kill Lee Je — what the hell,” Renjun exclaims, entering the kitchen, making you turn around as if you’ve been caught stealing, holding the mug full of coffee in your hands and giving him a shy smile. “What are you doing here?”

You gulp, pushing your hair out of your face before coming up with a lie. “We studied too late.”

Renjun steps further into the room, staring at you with a raised brow before he tilts his head and studies how you’re dressed. You’re wearing Donghyuck’s sweater and pants.

“Oh, now they call it studying? Last time I checked you’re not med students, didn’t know music had anatomy in the program,” he taunts, grinning at you as he comes to your side.  

You choke on your saliva and don’t have time to come up with a reply because he strikes again.

“Oh, no, maybe you were exercising vocalization, it’s better when it’s done together, right?” He winks and you glare at him.

“It’s not what you think,” you lie, but honestly you feel so embarrassed about everything. You didn’t think anybody else would be up this early on a Sunday, but it’s clear you don’t know Renjun well. You could’ve left, but you didn’t want to. It was slowly starting to sink in that you didn’t like the solitude of your life anymore.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody,” he says, sitting in front of you. “Come here, don’t stay up.”

You do as told, and smile when he offers you a pack of biscuits. “I would’ve cooked something usually, but Jeno kept me up all night.”

You chuckle. “It’s fine, normally I don’t even have breakfast.”

“You don’t?” He gasps, and you nod.

“Yeah, just coffee.”

He looks down at you, shaking his head in disappointment. “It’s not healthy.”

“I know, I know, I’ll try to eat more, okay? For you.” You reach out your hand and he takes it.

A fit of cough brings both of your gazes to the door and you see Haechan stand against the frame. “Once it’s Jeno, another time it’s Renjun. I bring you home to study and you flirt with my friends.”

“Drop the bullshit, Hyuck. He knows,” you say, rolling your eyes.

Haechan’s eyes widen, but he slowly fakes indifference. “Knows what? That you don’t have time for a relationship so you can’t date him?”

“That you two fuck,” Renjun answers instead, making him cough.

“That’s not true,” he defends. “I hate her,” he says, laughing, but when he meets your eyes and sees them sadden, he feels pain in his heart. “No, no, I don’t hate her, but we’re… you know our relationship, why would we fuck?”

“Who’s fucking?”

“Not you, Jeno. Not you for sure,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes.

“Hey! Why do you always gotta be so rude,” Jeno whines.

“I doubt he’s not getting laid,” you chuckle, and Jeno winks playfully.

“See, words of a wise woman,” he brags, walking to the fridge to grab something.

Renjun sighs loudly. “A woman that doesn’t know you.”

“Would you fuck him?” Haechan asks out of nowhere and you glare at him.

“I just said that he’s hot and smart, I don’t see how he can have a hard time finding somebody,”

“’Cause he’s annoying,” Renjun answers, but Haechan’s not listening.

“I didn’t ask that,” Donghyuck says instead, his attention is all on you as if there’s nobody else in the room.  

“I don’t answer stupid questions,” you reply before sipping from your cup and drifting your gaze away.

“Wait, why are you here?” Jeno asks, only now realizing you’re not supposed to be at their place, not in the morning at least… wait… “Wait! Are you two fuck—”

“No,” Haechan answers sternly, glaring at him. “We’re studying. And it got late, so since we were closer to my place, I let her stay the night.”

“I thought you left yesterday saying you had a date, though,” Jeno says confused.

You chuckle under your breath before you feel Haechan’s hand wrap around your writs to pull you out of the room, not even giving you time to finish your coffee. “A studying date, and now drop it.”

When you reach his room, he groans loudly, walking to the closet to pick something to wear. You watch him move for a while, but then you can’t keep your thoughts inside your head anymore.

“Are you ashamed of me?” You ask and he turns around with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Am I something to be ashamed of? Do I don’t fit in the standard of the people you would usually fuck?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want them to get invasive, they don’t let me live once they know something. And with you, it’s more embarrassing because of our history…”

You giggle, trying not to show the relief you’re feeling because, for a moment, you thought he was one of those types of men.

“Why can’t you ever make things easy for me?” He asks, annoyance in his voice. You have so much power over him, more than he likes to admit, and he feels like he can’t even be too mad at you about it.

“Sorry, it’s just, it’s funny having a history with you,” you explain. “My mortal enemy, always ready to steal my number ones, and my good grades.”

“You’re so annoying, you’re never sleeping over ever again.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I won’t let you fuck me ever again.”

“Liar,” he says. “And now move, I’ll drop you home.”

you can find part two on my account on the story masterlist or haechan’s masterlist (i can’t link it because if i do the post won’t appear in the tags)

general taglist: @froggyforhyuck, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck, @technologyculturedneo

fic taglist: @hcluvie, @gusgus0517, @multifandomania, @413cl, @odgsuji,

@hey-hey-heybitch, @nctrawberries, @n0hyuck, @haechoshi,

@girlwholoveslpreppyattire, @viciousdarlings, @hyuckmoon,

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© neowinestaindress ; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. 

[leclercsainzz]

i was listening to “all to well” by taylor swift and the part where she sings “i still remember the first fall of snow” (pretty much verse 6) came on and i remember i had seen a nico rosberg x lewis hamilton edit to this song a few nights ago and i was wondering if you could do one where reader is nico’s sister and she dated lewis but they fell of because of the whole brocedes friendship fall out and the fans associate them with this specific song/verse .. basically brocedes situation but instead it’s reader x lewis (idk if all this makes sense lol)

DO YOU REMEMBER IT ALL TOO WELL?

PAIRINGS: lewis hamilton x rosberg sister!reader

TYPE: social media au

ynrosberg

liked by danielricciardo, nicorosberg and 645,927 others

ynrosberg: weekend photo dump or whatevaaa 🤷🏼‍♀️

tagged: @nicorosberg @danielricciardo

view 6,026 comments

user: omG i stiLL CaNnoT beliEVE MOTHER PULLED UP TO THE HUNGARIAN GRAND PRIX AKAKD!!!!!

↳ user: apparently she only went to support danny bc she promised him that she’d show up to a race if he came back 😭

user: does anyone know if lewis and her interacted??!!?

user: gorgg 😍😍😍

zayn: 😍

↳ user: are they dating??

↳ user: zayn??? 👀 what are you doing here??

user: not nico using memes 💀 LMAOOO

↳ nicorosberg: it was actually a gif 😭

↳ user: pLease, this makes it 10x better

danielricciardo: ❤️❤️

user: still can’t believe mother pulled up and we didn’t get a single interaction with dad 😭😭

user: it’s the waY LEWIS WALKED BY HER WITHOUT SPARING HER A GLANCE 😭😭😭💔

↳ user: i cried when i saw that 😭😭 like why’d they show us?

user: so is everyone gonna ignore the last post?? 444?? 4’s??? who is associated with 4? lewis mf 44 hamilton?? hello?

user: lewis????

user: will forever hold on to the idea that they’ll get back together soon 😌

user: i love how everyone is bringing up lewis as if they didn’t end on bad terms lmao

fernandoalo_official: glad to see my spanish lessons taught you something 👍🏼

aussiegrit: it’s britney bitch

📌 pinned

user: not her pinning webber’s comment 💀

user: thE things i’d do to see a lewis comment or like 😩

user: just thinking about the fact that yn & lewis might’ve seen each other at the race but refused to interact w each other 😭

↳ user: they did:( and they ignored each other

user: can someone please tell me if her and lewis talked?

user: i just know they refused to look in each other’s directions

↳ user: stop 😭😭😭 you’re right, they didn’t 💔💔💔

user: 4?? lewis??

user: missing ynlewis hours 😓

user: ugh, she’s soo pretty 😍😍😍

user: how can one be this beautiful? 😩

ynrosberg

liked by sebastianvettel, kendalljenner and 610,749 others

ynrosberg: photo dump pt 2 🤪

view 5,146 comments

user: all too well 10 min ver. (taylor’s version)??? yes or yes??

↳ ynrosberg: always!!! 💗

user: LEWIS LEWIS LEWIS LEWIS LEWIS LEWIS

user: 😍😍😍😍😍

zayn: thanks for the pic creds

↳ yourusername: yea yea

georgerussell63: i see my name 👀

user: i pray lewis and her will get back together

user: wishing for a ynlewis interaction 😩😩

↳ user: same, sis, same!

user: her smile in the third post 🥰

kendalljenner: 😍😍 beauty

↳ ynrosberg: mwahh 😘

user: when she listens to taylor swift >>

nicorosberg: never got my ice cream 😕

↳ ynrosberg: oops???

user: I REMEMBER IT ALL TOO WELL

user: i literally just saw a ynlewis edit to all too well!!! janskdnd

↳ user: SEND ME THE LINK, NOW

↳ user: ^ me too, please!!!

↳ user: wtF, iM crying 😭😭😭😭

user: i just need to know that her and lewis are on good terms, my mental health depends on this info

↳ user: hate to break it to you …. but ….

↳ user: they literally walked by each other TWICE during the hungarian gp and didn’t acknowledge each other 💔💔💔💔

user: does anyone know if lewis and yn are friends at least?

↳ user: girl??? they don’t even follow each other 🙂

user: she looks happy, he looks happy … they moved on .... maybe it’s time for us all to move on as well? 😔😔😔

↳ user: nO, i cant 😔 i rEfuse!!

user: who’s lewis??? and what does he have to do with yn and nico?? (i don’t mean to offend anyone, i just keep seeing so many comments regarding lewis … is he a driver like nico or??)

↳ user: long story short, lewis hamilton is a formula 1 driver (yes), him and nico used to be teammates .. they were pretty much fighting for the championship and in the process their friendship started to fall apart due to their rivalry and ig yn pushed lewis away after nico won and retired

↳ user: wasn’t it because lewis said he didn’t want distractions and wanted to focus on his career?

↳ user: tbh i’m not sure, they never really confirmed anything

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, neymarjr and 784,837 others

lewishamilton: season so far ✌🏾

tagged: @georgerussell63 @fernandoalo_official

view 7,937 comments

user: ROSCOE!!!!

user: i wonder if roscoe misses mother as much as i do 😭

user: dad, please get back with mom!! 🙏🏼

user: my man everybody 😍😍😍

user: i heard from a friend that george “kidnapped” roscoe and took him to see yn

↳ user: wait wtf, are you being frr??? 😭😭 don’t play with me

↳ user: idk if it’s true

↳ user: i wonder how roscoe reacted when he saw yn, if he did

georgerussell63: roscoe 🥰

↳ lewishamilton: dognapper

↳ georgerussell63: i did it for the greater good:)

↳ user: wAit omgsksn does that mean he actually took roscoe to see yn or???? omg wkakalsk 🥺🥺🥺

user: he’s so fine 😩

fernandoalo_official: 😎

user: WAIT DID GEORGE REALLY TAKE ROSCOE TO GO SEE YN?? BC IF SOOO IMA CRY 😭😭😭😭

user: ya’ll remember when roscoe would pull up with both his parents to the paddock?? 😔 ahh, good old times

user: @sebastianvettel sebs, i need you to work your magic and reunite my parents, please

user: not getting over how they just walked past each other as if they didn’t spend 4 years together 💔

user: the fit 🔥

user: things that keep me up at night: brocedes & ynlewis

↳ user: ^ THIS!!!!

user: ya’ll ever thing about the what-if of ynlewis??

user: goat with a another goat (alonso) 🤩

user: they day yn and lewis reunite will be magical

user: missing the yn comments/likes 🥺🥺🥺

carlossainz55: 🤩🤩🤩

user: 7 years ago, ynlewis broke my heart 😭😭😭

↳ user: don’t forget brocedes 😭😭

↳ user: can’t believe it’s been 7 years, mate

user: i wonder if they privately talk, yk??

↳ user: never thought of that but i hope they do, tbh

sebastianvettel: ❤️

user: roscoe’s too adorable!! 🥺❤️

user: i know they’ll find their way to each other eventually

ynrosberg

liked by zayn, danielricciardo and 671,048 others

ynrosberg: life so far 💗 (p.s. happy 8 months, lover)

view 5,937 comments

user: mOTHER?????? who is that????

user: 8 months???? wtf?? hello?? since when???

user: what about lewis??!

user: looks like mother gave us another dad 😔

↳ user: lewis is MY dad, idcc … zayn can be my step dad

user: so you’re telling me lewis and yn getting back together won’t happen anytime soon?? 😭😭

zayn: ❤️

↳ user: wAIT!!!! ZAYN??!??? OMG MAKALANS I KNEW THE TATTOOS LOOKED FAMILIAR WHSLs

↳ user: one direction guy????

nicorosberg: cute

↳ ynrosberg: 😌

user: they’ve been together for 8 months?? 😮😮

user: it all makes sense, i just never connected the dots

user: this was not on my 2023 bingo card 😩

user: ngl but this is actually cute

danielricciardo: cats out the bag, yayyy 🥳

↳ user: YOU KNEW!/@/&/@/‘s

user: i wonder how lewis is feeling rn

↳ user: as if he cares

user: mom, what about dad?? 😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔

user: @lewishamilton

user: nooooOo i miss dad 😭😭

user: allbio984!;’al hepan huh?!?!@ what?&@“”

user: ig those rumors a few months ago were true

↳ user: which ones???

↳ user: they were seen together like 3 months ago and there were speculations that they were together but it was never confirmed until now 😭

user: i’m still at the restaurant with dad 😢😢😢

user: yn, you’re breaking my heart 💔💔 we want dad

user: scReaming and goiNg apeshit alapamcbh93&,!;@/

user: lewis officially lost her 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

user: i can’t believe this wtf

lewishamilton

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc and 793,927 others

lewishamilton: all too well

view 7,947 comments

user: DAD IS QUOTING “ALL TOO WELL”

user: roscoe owns my heart, idcc 🥺🥺

user: you remember it all too well, huh? 🥺

user: ya’ll remember yn posted a photo dump a while ago and one of the pic was a “all too well” aesthetic and now he’s using it as his caption??? he definitely misses her 😭😭😭

user: “just between us do you remember it all too well” you remember, she remembers, we all remember 💔

user: dad, we know know you miss mom and uncle nico

↳ user: 😭😭😭 stopp

user: roscoe 🥰🥰🥰

user: mom’s got a new boyfriend

user: ynlewis/brocedes will forever be my roman empire

georgerussell63: roscoe’s such a cutie!

↳ user: idc if you have to break yn and zayn up but we NEED our og parents back, please 🙏🏼

user: they were THE COUPLE

user: she definitely haunts all his what-ifs 😭😭

↳ user: he should’ve married her when he had the chance

↳ user: will never get over him choosing his career over her

user: @ynrosberg

user: i miss them everyday 😩

user: i often think about how if brocedes never ended the way they did they would’ve been together, just maybe

↳ user: i think about this everyday 😩😩😩😩

↳ user: they would’ve been married and with a kid by now

maxverstappen1: have you been hitting the gym?

↳ lewishamilton: always

user: it’s never too late, don’t give up

↳ user: she’s with zayn

user: i still hold on to the possibility that they’ll get back together eventually

user: timing was wrong bc they were in different stages of their lives but i believe they’ll always be soulmates ❤️

user: why’d they break up??

↳ user: bc yn wanted a family and lewis was too focused on his career at the time, i guess

user: roscoe’s a child of divorce like us 😭😭

user: convinced myself that taylor wrote verse 6 about them in all too well (10 min ver)

user: i wonder if he ever gets deja vu when he sees her or viceversa

user: ynlewis keeps me up at night

user: we lost two amazing things 😔 ynlewis & brocedes

↳ user: we can all collectively agree it’s mercedes fault

ynrosberg

liked by nicorosberg, sebastianvettel and 710,019 others

ynrosberg: an adventure is about to begin 🥰

tagged: @zayn

view 6,984 comments

user: mother is becoming a mother??!? omg 😭😭

user: congratulations!!!

zayn: can’t wait for our little one ❤️

↳ ynrosberg: ❤️❤️❤️

user: im not crying, you are 😭

user: the fact that’s she’s becoming a mother 😭 w/o lewis

user: this could’ve been lewis

↳ user: if only 😔

sebastianvettel: happy for you, congrats! ❤️❤️

↳ ynrosberg: ❤️❤️

nicorosberg: can’t wait till i’m officially an uncle 😢

↳ ynrosberg: ilyyyy ❤️

danielricciardo: IM GONNA SPOIL THAT KID

aussiegrit: congrats, yn

↳ ynrosberg: 😊😊 thanks youuu

jensonbutton: ❤️❤️❤️ congrats

↳ ynrosberg: 🥰

fernandoalo_official: 🥳🥳🥳

georgerussell63: can i be the uncle too??

↳ ynrosberg: why not 🤪

user: AHHH IM SOO HAPPY FOR YOU!!

kendalljenner: congrats, my love 🥳❤️❤️❤️

user: im so happy for her but all i can think about is lewis

user: mom becoming a mom without dad 😭😭😭😭

user: ya’ll imagine if it would’ve been lewis 😩

user: her dream came true 😭😭

carmenmmundt: ahh congratulations 🥰🥰🥰

↳ ynrosberg: ❤️❤️

heidiberger__: congrats, beautiful 💗💗

↳ ynrosberg: 🥰🥰

lewishamilton: congratulations!

↳ ynrosberg: thank you!!

↳ user: i waS NOT PREPARED FOR THIS 😭😭😭😭

↳ user: why’d he have to do this??? 😭

↳ user: the way this could’ve been him

user: lewis commented omg 😢😢😢

↳ user: i just know he’s regretting everything

user: lewis 💔💔💔

user: i know dad’s crying over this cause so am i

user: we’re all child of divorce 😭😭😭

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Infected

Miguel O'Hara X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Summary: An accident at one of Alchemax’s labs has led to Miguel being briefly contaminated with cA1m - a prototype drug that is meant to calm animals. However it seems to have a very different effect in humans.

A/N: A massive thank you to @midgardian-witch for reading the beginning of this (catching a hilarious typo), making some excellent suggestions,  and reassuring me that I hadn’t just lost my mind completely (yet).

Reader doesn’t know Miguel’s spiderman.

Warnings: dubious consent - it’s basically a sex pollen fic, blood, hair pulling (can I write a fic without an Oscar Isaac character getting their hair pulled?), so much cum, hand job, oral (both m and f receiving), things get a little rough, face fucking, cum eating, biting, scratching, p in v sex, typos, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 5433

________________________________

“It’s mainly preliminary.” You said with a smile. “You weren’t in the room, but the filtration system links four of the labs.” 

You check over Miguel’s notes, so far, he didn’t have any symptoms. 

There had been an ‘accident’ in Lab B2, an accident that was being rapidly looked into. Lab B1, and B4 had been empty, but Miguel had been in B3. 

Miguel was currently in a rapidly repurposed testing room, sitting on the bed with his shirt rolled up his forearms. His specific request for somewhere with reinforced walls, doors and windows had been… unusual. But he was a big guy, couldn’t hurt to be too careful. 

“How are the others doing?” He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. 

“Okay,” you nodded. There had been eight people in Lab B2 when the container had broken. Two people, like Miguel, weren’t showing any symptoms. 

The chemical compound, nicknamed cA1m, while liquid in its storage unit, turned to a gas at above zero degrees. Luckily it also denatured quickly, and there was a good chance that those who still weren’t showing symptoms were unaffected. 

The chemical’s intention was for a more humane way to calm wild animals and livestock during veterinary checks. That way the animal in question didn’t need potentially dangerous anaesthetic for basic to mild level medical care. 

It also wore off in 24 hours. 

However, it still needed some work. And while early tests had gone well, apparently it did not have the desired effect in humans. 

Four of the six infected had gone feral, absolutely crazy with rage, trying to kill and destroy everything and everyone within their reach. 

Luckily no one had been severely injured before they had been tranquilised. 

The other two were different, they had… other urges. 

“Have you found any links as to why Doctor Guerrero and Doctor Vaughan didn’t react like the others?” Miguel asks. His voice was calm and controlled, like it always was. Politely interested, like he was listening to a presentation about your latest control data. 

“Well, I have an idea. Though I haven’t fully proven it yet.” 

He tilted his head to the side in a silent question. The action was endearing, it made your heart flutter and heat rise to your skin. And you hated it so, so much. 

You smiled quickly and looked down, trying to cover the fact you’d been staring at him for a second too long. 

“So,” you continued, drawing the word out a little to give you a pause of breathing room. “Both Guerrero and Vaughan are in relationships, both of them wanted to,” you pause for a moment, trying to find the most professional way to phrase it. “get to their partners. Unlike the others they also had a massively increased level of oxytocin.” 

“Your theory is that that cA1m causes a berserk level of rage unless the subject is in love?” There was the smallest smirk on his lips.

It sounded stupid when he put it like that. 

“Well… yes.” You fold your arms. “Look, Miguel,” he grinned when you said his name and you fought, and lost, the urge to smile back. “I’ve had fourteen hours and six people to base this off, plus three who are showing no symptoms. Give me a break, yeah?” 

He held up his hands playfully. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You gave me a look.”

“What look?” He teased. 

“I know you want to be trying to figure this out yourself, but you’re the one who insisted on not being allowed any breakable, or expensive, equipment while you’re in here.” 

He smiled. “It’s true.” His gaze was heavy, crushing almost. 

You shook your head and turned to the side table. “Anyway, are you gonna let me draw some blood or what?” 

He nodded and held his arm out to you. 

You know why you had been ‘nominated’ (begged) to be the one to see Miguel. He wasn’t the easiest CEO to work for in the sense that he was both physically and mentally intimidating, but what usually threw most people was that he was quiet, tended to watch and listen. 

And he had a bit of resting bitch face.  

But he was actually pretty pleasant to talk to when you got to know him. 

You brushed your arm against his as you moved to get your equipment. Miguel audibly gasped. 

A flash of worry pinched at your mind, you turned to look at him. “You okay?” 

Miguel nodded; he was staring straight ahead at the wall. Obviously in distress.

“Miguel?” This wasn’t the same as those who had suddenly developed into a full-blown rage, but still you couldn’t help the sense of apprehension that crawled along your skin. You glanced at the sedative on the side table and shook your head.

“Miguel?” You spoke again, a little softer and moved a step closer towards him. 

He shuddered at your voice, screwing his eyes up tightly. Sweat was beading on his forehead, heat rolling off him in waves.

“Miguel, I’m gonna-”

He moved faster than you could comprehend, one second he was sitting on the bed and the next he was looming over you, his hands clenched tightly around your biceps, and forcing you back.

You yelped as he pressed you into the wall, grabbing hold of his forearms. 

His eyes were dark and wild, brimming with a terrifying energy.

“Miguel, wh-”

He crashed his lips into yours, swallowing down your words and slipping his tongue into your mouth frantically. It took you a fragment of a second to react, surprise freezing your limbs solid. 

Miguel took your delay to his advantage, pushing his knee between your legs and pressing close. Not leaving a fraction of space between you as he devoured your mouth. Stealing your breath and igniting heat along your veins. 

“Miguel,” you managed to push him back, the heels of your hands in his chest. This was the cA1m affecting him, it was the only explanation. Maybe the filtration system had diluted the chemical and caused a delayed reaction. “You need to-”

He snarled, his eyes pinpoint focused on you as he leaned forward and kissed you, hard. All tongue and sharp teeth as he wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck and gripped your thigh bruisingly tight, hitching it high on his hip. 

You’d had dreams like this, fantasies, where he pinned you to the wall and kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. But you couldn’t do this, you couldn’t take advantage of him like this- 

There was a sharp pinch of pain as Miguel sank his teeth into your bottom lip. You let out a small squeak of surprise, pulling away from him. And raised your hand to your mouth, your fingers coming back red. 

Miguel, however, seemed unphased as he trailed kisses along your neck, smearing your blood along your skin. He ground his hips into yours, rocking back and forth and- oh god, he was big, just like the rest of him. 

“Miguel, you need to,” you swallowed down a whimper as he sucked at your pulse point, just managing to resist the urge to hold him closer, to run your hands through his hair. “It’s the cA1m, you’re not thinking straight.”

He murmured something into your neck, his mouth not leaving your skin far enough for the words to be intelligible. 

“Miguel-” You gasped as he nipped at your throat, not enough to break the skin this time. 

Heat was burning from his skin, scorching into your body like you were too close to a flame. 

You grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back a fraction too forcefully. You thought the brief pain might snap him out of it, give him a second of clarity. But as his chin tilted upwards, exposing his neck, he let out a long groan, his eyes squeezed shut. 

It went straight to your core, your thighs clenching at the sound. 

“Need you so bad, shit,” he rocked against you harder, pressing his length right up against your centre. “Always need you, you don’t understand,” he moaned and buried his head back into your neck, despite your grip on his hair, and sucked a love bite into your skin.

This time you couldn’t resist the urge. You sunk your fingers deeper, scratching your nails along his scalp and pulled him closer, pushing his face in your neck.

Miguel groaned appreciatively, digging his sharp nails into your shoulders. He nipped just below your ear, the keen, yet sweet little sting of pain blended with the slow and steady roll of his hips was simply tortuous. Almost enough to make you lose all common sense. 

Almost. 

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t do this, you just couldn’t do this. 

“Miguel-”

He whined as you said his name. 

And you had to bite your lips together in order to hold onto your fading self respect. 

“On the table,” you swallowed, trying to get your words out quickly, “there’s a sedative. It’ll help, it’ll-”

“You’ll help, being near you helps.” He mumbles, the words barely audible. He snakes his fingers along your ribs, just teasing the hem of your shirt.

“We just need to-oh!”

Miguel grabs hold of your shirt and pulls, ripping it open, buttons pinging off and going flying. Honestly, there’s less resistance from the material than you expected.

And then he's everywhere, his face buried in your chest, kissing the tops of your breasts as his fingers pinch at your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. 

You can't stop the moan of surprise that escapes your lips as you arch into his touch. 

You had to stop this, now. Before he did something you'd very much enjoy and he'd very much regret. 

"Fuck," you hiss under your breath and act quickly, trying not to overthink and get yourself caught up. 

Maybe if he… had some relief you could grab the sedative in the afterglow. Hell, maybe he wouldn't even need the sedative if he came once. 

Before you can lose your nerve you quickly unbuckled his trousers and managed to squeeze your hand under the material despite Miguel's frenzied mind trying to keep the physical space separating you both to a minimum. 

He gasps as you touch him, letting out a choked sob that your brain was already committing to memory and filing under 'for use later'. 

The velvety soft skin was rock hard and burning hot against your hand. So big that you couldn't even get your fingers fully round his girth. 

"Please." He muttered, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands resting tightly on your waist. 

His eyes were screwed shut, his mouth slightly open and when you moved your hand, the smallest upwards movement. He let out the sweetest sigh. 

You bite your lip and wince as you catch the broken skin, but it doesn’t stop you from tracing your thumb over the tip of him, smearing precome along the head. You were trying to be quick, methodical, clinical, as you began to stroke him, setting an even pace. This was just a problem to solve. You should not be enjoying this. 

But every glide of your hand, every touch, made Miguel gasp and moan as if it was the first time he’d ever experienced such sensations, made him bite his lip with his sharp (had they always been that sharp?) teeth, and it was intoxicating. 

He pistoned his hips into your touch, thrusting faster and faster, and practically growling as he grew closer to his release. 

You couldn’t help but watch him, enraptured, as heat pooled in your lower stomach, your own need growing. But this wasn’t about you. 

Still, you couldn’t help yourself rocking back and forth against his leg ever so slightly to just take the edge off. 

Miguel grunted, his eyes rolling back in his head, and there was a sharp pinch of pain as he tightened his grip on your waist, his nails digging in much harder than they surely should have been able to.

He swore under his breath as he cums, twitching under your touch, and coating your hand and stomach with his release. 

There’s so much of it, far more than there should be as he cums and cums, gasping for air. Another side effect of the cA1m - perhaps you’d be annoyed as his release soaks into your ruined shirt if the sight of him reaching his peak wasn’t exhilarating. 

You let go of him quickly, managing to disentangle yourself from him, despite Miguel low, exhausted whine of protest. 

God, how were you going to get a new shirt without running into someone? And, you realised, probably a new pair of trousers too. Miguel’s spend had run down and soaked into the left side. 

You grabbed the sedative from the side table. Your mind already racing, it wasn’t Miguel’s fault but would he remember? Would he be awkward with you now? Would your little chats and jokes stop? You swallowed down a pang of fear and turned. Now wasn’t the time for what ifs you-

Miguel grabbed your arms and you squeaked in surprise. How could he move so silently? His eyes were dark, hooded with lust, his trousers just hanging from his hips and… well, obviously so much for the idea that him cumming once would be enough. 

“I need you.” He growled, his voice so low that you almost felt light headed. “I know you want me too, I can smell it.” He leaned forward scraping his teeth over your pulse point, and for a shameful moment you let yourself get caught up again, allowed yourself to revel in the sensation for the smallest second. 

While he was distracted you pushed the needle into his upper arm, through his shirt, and injected the sedative. 

It shouldn't take long. 

He growled, pulling his mouth away from your neck to stare dangerously into your eyes. 

You swallowed. A spike of fear dug into the base of your skull, some ancient urge telling you to run. 

“It’s okay,” you said soothingly, unsure if you were really talking to Miguel or yourself. “It’s just the sedative.” You pulled the needle out of his arm. “You’ll be fine, let’s lay you down so-”

He kissed you hungrily, harsh and demanding as he forced his tongue into your mouth. 

You allowed yourself to kiss him back the smallest amount as you waited for the sedative to work. 

And waited… And waited…

Oh, no, just no, this wasn’t right, this couldn’t be right. There was more than enough in the injection to knock him out and yet he didn’t show any signs of slowing down. 

Okay, so, this definitely wasn’t how it went with the others. 

You side step, trying to twist past him and break his hold all in one movement. Maybe you could get to the door, maybe you could do… something. Your mind raced, there had to be a way to fix this, to help him, to be useful. 

The side step didn’t work, Miguel’s grip was too tight, and you stumbled, skidding around and to your knees. The edge of the bed thumped into your back. 

You gasp, gulp and stare up at him. That spike of fear dragging itself down your spine. 

He growls and moves closer, his length bobbing and perfectly at your eye level. His gaze is dark and desperate, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. You could see his pulse thundering in his neck, echoing along the length of his dick. 

Rapid heartbeat was one of the side effects all the others had experienced, the sedative being the only thing that had managed to return it to a normaler level. 

Maybe there was only one way you could be useful. 

Miguel shifts his weight, preparing to move, but you lean forward first and run your tongue along the length of him. 

A deep moan rumbles in his chest as you touch him, a gasp of breath. The sound floods heat to your core. 

You wrap your lips around the tip, grabbing hold of his hips to pull him closer as you swallow as much of him as you can. You bob your head, encouraging him to move with you and there is a moment where you can feel the tension in his muscles, the strain in his thighs as he tries to hold back, to keep himself in check. 

It doesn’t last long. 

He snarls and thrusts forward, snapping his hips and nearly choking you. You splutter, trying to breathe through your nose but Miguel doesn’t give you a second to recover. He pushes forward, the back of your head slamming against the edge of the bed as he plunges deeper and deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with ease and still not even half way in. 

Your grip on his hips tightens and you don’t know if you’re trying to pull him away or urging him on. 

It burns, the size of him makes your jaw ache, tears roll down the sides of your cheeks from the force of his relentless thrusts. 

His hands dig into the mattress by the side of you head, tearing into the fabric as he pounds into you, fucking your mouth with everything he’s got. 

He groans, “yes, baby, yes,” his voice low and barely distinguishable as words. 

You do your best to just hold on, to breathe and take as much as you can. The sounds of his moans filling your ears and mind, and god, how you wished you didn’t have a gag reflex and could take him deeper. 

He keeps ramming into your mouth, snapping his hips against you with a frenzied energy and you push against his lower back, silently begging him to keep going. 

Your neck throbs from discomfort, bruising forming where the skin is repeatedly hitting against the hard outline of the bed frame. Your knees burn from where they continuously rub against the floor with every buck and thrust. 

Miguel lets out a short, animalistic cry as he cums down your throat suddenly. You moan against him, trying to swallow all of it but there’s just so, so much. It spills out of the side of your mouth and down your chin despite your best efforts.

He leans forward, breathing hard, his cock still in your mouth. And for a second you think this is it, the sedative will take hold or maybe this mindless lust has come to an end. 

But he’s still hard when he pulls himself out of your mouth, his eyes still glazed over with the same madness when he looks down at you. He runs his hand over your chin, the pads of his fingers slightly sharp, and collects some of his spend that hasn’t trickled down your neck and onto your torn shirt and bra. Another item of clothing you’d need to change. 

He smears his cum along your cheek, the movement possessive, like he was marking his territory. 

There’s a pause, the lull in the eye of the storm before he pulls you up from the ground with a shocking display of strength, moving as if you were no heavier than a glass of water he was eager to drink down. 

You can’t help the little yelp of surprise that escapes you as he practically throws you onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress and momentarily knocking the air out of your lungs.

But then he’s on top of you, pressing himself firmly between your legs as he growls and snaps his teeth close to your neck. He bites at your throat, hard enough to break the skin and you cry out as the pain quickly disappears into pleasure. 

Your mewls only make his actions more frenzied as he tears your clothes completely off you with a speed that makes your head spin, before removing his own. The material rips so easily, as if he used a blade. 

He runs his tongue along your chest, messily cleaning up the cum he’d spilt along you just moments before. 

“Miguel-” You try to start, but then his mouth is back on yours, tasting like salt and iron as he drinks down your words to leave you breathless. 

You gasp as he breaks away, trailing sloppy kisses down your body, his fingers running over your skin and leaving scratches. He bites your hip partially deeply and you keen, arching up into him as he moans. 

“Your so fucking sweet.” He mutters before kissing lower and lower and, oh god. You nearly scream as his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks hard. Pleasure coils tight in your belly as a new wave of wetness leaks out and soaks into the torn up sheets beneath you. 

His fingers dig into your thighs as he pushes his face into you, only breaking away so that he can lick through your folds hungrily, devouring you like a starving animal. 

“Miguel!” You whine, letting out a series of high pitch moans that sound alien even to your own ears. 

He sucks your clit once more, his teeth just grazing across it before he snarls and pulls away, pushing the back of your thighs and pressing them against your chest with a crushing strength. 

You struggle to take a breath, barely filling your lungs before he’s thrusting into you with a guttural groan and a sharp snap of his hips. 

The size of him hurts, it’s too much, too fast and you gasp in pain. You clench your jaw, your eyes screwing up as your hands fly to his shoulders, trying to push him back even though you know it’s no use against his strength. 

But he stops instantly, stilling his movements. 

You stare up at him in surprise. His eyes are still dark but there’s something else there, something pushing through that lust haze. 

“Pain?” He whispers, sounding the most like his old self that he has since this ordeal began.

You swallow and nod, tears building at the corners of your eyes. 

He slowly loosens his grip around your thighs, letting go shakily as if it is taking a lot of self control to do so. And while he doesn’t pull out, he doesn’t thrust in deeper either. 

Carefully, he manoeuvres your legs down onto the bed either side of him, watching your face for any sign of increased discomfort. It’s only then that he looks down to where you’re joined, completely split open with only a quarter of his length inside. 

He groans lows and you brace yourself for a brutal thrust that never comes. Instead he keeps his hips still as he slowly trails his sharp nails down your stomach, teasing the very edge of your clit before pressing his thumb against it fully. 

A small moan escapes you and you clench down instinctively. Miguel hums in approval and starts to slowly circle the bundle of nerves, the touch light and soft as he just borders on the edge of losing control. 

The pain starts to dissipate quickly, replaced with a steady continuous build of that deep need from before. You start to squirm. The pressure of his thumb isn’t enough and you rock your hips ever so slightly, your breathing hitching in your throat. 

"More?" He whispers.

You nod your head rapidly. 

“Thank god.” Miguel sighs, the words mumbled like a prayer almost too quietly for you to hear, and lets some of his weakening control slip. 

Slowly he pushes further in, the tension shaking in his thighs as he fights with every instinct to pound you into the mattress and turn you into a crying mess beneath him. 

He keeps circling your clit, groaning as feels a fresh wave of wetness leaking out of you. 

You moan, grabbing hold of his shoulders. But this time you pull him towards you, urging him deeper. God, he’s big. Already it’s like you can feel him in your throat. 

The stretch burns, but it’s good, it feels right. Like he is going to reach a whole new devastating part of you. Make you cum so hard that he’ll ruin any other sexual partner for good.

You hook your left leg on his hip and squeeze your calf over his lower back, encouraging him closer, deeper. While you plant your right foot firmly against the bed to rock up against him. 

Miguel groans, his eyes closed. His movements on your clit falter as he slides further in. 

There’s a sharp pain in your hip where his left hand holds you tight,  his nails (it had to be his nails) dug in so deep that they broke your skin. 

You let out a soft whine, clenching around his girth as he presses up against you perfectly and still pushes further in. The pleasure in your stomach tightening and starting to completely overwhelm all other thoughts, urging you to just chase your release. 

Tears prick again at the corners of your eyes, a soft emotion beating hard in your chest. And you can’t help yourself, you grab hold of the back of Miguel’s neck, pulling him down towards you and arching up at the same time to kiss him hungrily. 

He moans into your mouth, pushing back against you and forcing you into the mattress. His hips snap forward, finally sheathing himself completely in your tight, wet heat. 

For a moment it’s like you can’t breathe, so completely full that not even air can enter. 

Miguel stills, giving you a moment to adjust as he licks into your mouth and groans as your walls squeeze around his length. His pubis bone presses firmly against your clit, and you can feel the echo of his racing heart beat along his skin. 

He breaks the kiss to breathe hard, his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours. “I can’t… I need to…”

“Please,” you answer desperately, kissing him softly as you start to rock your hips ever so slightly. 

Miguel lets out a whine, his eyebrows pinched together in bliss and the expression alone is nearly enough to make you cum on the spot. 

“Can’t stop,” he mutters and you're not even sure if he’s aware of what he’s saying anymore as he grabs your wrists in either of his hands and pins them to the bed. “Feels so…” He ruts into you, pulling out so that just the tip of his cock stays inside before slamming back into you. “Fuck. So. Fucking. Tight.”

You wail under him as pleasure runs up your spine and down your legs as he punctuates every thrust with an upwards rock of his hips, continuously rubbing against your clit and pressing the head of his length to that perfect spot inside. 

“So. Fucking. Wet.” He growls. His nails are slicing into your wrists, but you don’t care. Can’t care, you’ve lost all ability to feel anything but the glide of his cock and the heady build of your orgasm. 

“So. Mine.” He growls and bites down hard on your neck. You cry out, the brutal pace of his hips only increasing, bringing you closer and closer and-

You gasp, his name catching in your throat as you finally cum. Every muscle shaking as it crashes over you in waves. 

Miguel tears his mouth away from your neck, blood shining on his lips as he watches you come undone. He moans, his thrusts not faltering for a second. 

“That’s it, cum all over me,” he glances down for a moment watching himself disappearing into you, amazed at how well you’re taking him, how tightly your walls are griping him, trying to milk him for all he’s worth. “Squeezing me so tight, oh shit-” 

He cums loudly, still pistoning in and out of you as he fills you up with his release. There’s still so much of it, some leaks out, spilling out of your abused hole and sticking to your thighs. 

You breathe deeply, your mind foggy from how hard you came. Your legs ache from being stretched so wide, your pussy throbs from overstimulation. 

Miguel doesn’t stop, still rock hard and trusting. Pushing his cum deeper into you. 

“Miguel,” you whine, your throat raw. 

“I can’t-” he bites his lip, “I can’t stop, I need to, fuck, please, I need to-”

You kiss his neck, biting harder than you normally would at his jugular. He whines, the sound going straight to your core. Heat starts to build again.

“Keep going,” you mutter against his skin. “Keep going as long as you need to.” 

.

You wake up sore and sticky. Aching and in pain. Even the slightest movement brings out an array of discomfort. Every muscle throbs, like you had done a year's worth of exercise in one day, and all the bites and scratches sting as you shift, the scrapes making you feel like someone had tossed you naked into a bush of brambles and thorns. 

It takes you a moment to remember where you are, the tiredness in your bones trying to coax you back to sleep. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Miguel’s voice makes you jump. He’s still close to you, laying on his side with his chest pressed up against your back. One arm around your waist. There’s tension there, you know he wants to move away but is scared to move at the same time. 

His cock is pressed against your backside, soft and sated. 

You turn to look at him, too tired to worry about your nakedness. Besides, he had seen plenty of it anyway.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” 

He scoffs. His mouth pressed into a thin line as he looks down. 

It’s only then as you turn around completely to look at him that you see tears in his eyes. “Miguel?” 

You softly touch his cheek but he flinches away from you. The action spikes through your heart. He can’t even look at you now. 

“I’ve got everything to be sorry for, I, I took advantage of you, I rap-”

“No, no, no, no,” you can’t help but touch him again, putting your hand back on his cheek and rubbing your thumb soothingly across his skin. 

This time he leans into it, letting out the smallest, shaky breath. 

“You were infected, Miguel, you couldn’t control yourself. I don’t know how much you remember but the sedative didn’t work, and your heart rate was just, I mean, it was crazy high. And, if anything, I was the one that took advantage of you and-”

His eyes snap open. “You? You took advantage of me?” He says disbelievingly. “Look at you.” He touches the bite marks on your neck gently. 

You give him a little smile. “I don’t mind.”

He breathes out another shaky breath, but there’s a hint of a smile. “You don’t mind?” 

You shake your head. “Happy to help.” 

He chuckles a little at that and nods as he runs a hand through his hair. 

There’s a pause, a silence that you can’t stand. 

“I guess I was wrong.”

Miguel frowns a little, confused. 

“My theory, about people having that reaction if they’re in love, I mean.” 

There’s a pause, the only sound a little gulp as Miguel swallows. Something passes over his face for a second, a faint trace of heat rising to his skin.

Oh. Maybe you weren’t wrong. 

“Miguel?”

He breathes deeply, looking down. “I-”

You don’t give him a chance to finish, letting your adrenaline overwhelm you as you quickly lean forward and press your lips to his. Hoping against hope that you weren’t misreading the situation. 

He’s caught by surprise for a moment, but moans happily and softly kisses you back as his arm wraps around you and pulls you close. 

The kiss is slow and gentle, languid and sweet. It makes your stomach drop like you were falling from a great height. His embrace the only thing keeping you safe. 

He runs his tongue over your bottom lip lightly, careful of the cuts, but licks into your mouth hungrily the second you part your lips. It’s not the same lustful need from before, this is deeper, sharper and desperate in a different way. As if after devouring your body he now needed to devour your soul. 

He kisses you again, lightly before you both pull back for a second. He grins at you, a little shyly and you smile as you stroke his cheek.  

“You weren’t wrong.” He muttered. 

You frown and shake your head, confused. 

He chuckles and kisses you again. “Your theory about love.” 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @solobagginses @romanarose @saturn-rings-writes

[hideawaysis]

hello. absolutely hate involving myself in fandom drama, but ifeel this is an important post to make as i have seen a lot of people taking a certain post at face value and believing it.

im referring to this one, made by @/realultimatehater

now, before i say these things, i feel the need to preface this by saying that i do not personally wish to align myself in this fandom debate. i am a tax-paying adult and do not have any energy or time to put into arguing about a tv show on the internet. nonetheless, i have seen people blindly spreading this post around and i feel this needs to be addressed.

this person is lying.

it feels like it should be obvious with the levels of "down with cis bus" energy pulsating off of this, but it's a huge fucking lie.

this person is a known harasser and has targeted children in the past. they will do anything, and i mean ANYTHING to rack up attention and internet points. they have made bold claims like this with little to no evidence in the past all so they can garner more hatred for certain fandoms on the internet. testimonies here and here, and some pretty damning screenshots here.

i advise you all to stop reblogging the post ive shown. it's disinformation, a story fabricated to direct more vitriol towards a fandom with little to no proof that it can somehow make people like this or attract people like this. this person is either a troll or just plain deranged. please stop believing what they say.

tags added for reach.

edit: i received an anonymous ask giving me extra information on this topic, apparently this person is in fact an internet troll who has gone under countless aliases and will often fake identities in order to ruin the reputations of others. more information here and here.

edit 2: another anon ask gave me a preserved version of a post from realultimatehater's first account, showing how they'd crop screenshots of dms in order to make it look like they were being harassed for simply having a negative opinion on hazbin hotel. here's the post, though do know the reblog is from a supporter of them, make of that what you will. here's another version of the post ifound showing how they'd bait people into saying these kinds of things in order to make them look bad. and here's another one! wow!

i also found a few asks showing how this person would literally approach hazbin fans and just blatantly insult them, rather than blocking them. because yeah, when you detest a fandom, you clearly must stir up conflict! that'll keep them away from you! said asks can be viewed here and here

edit 3: the anon i received telling me realultimatehater was an internet troll who'd been trolling people for years apparently was not being truthful, this does not discredit the other evidence ive listed but id really appreciate if people would stop spreading that ask around. ive removed the link to the ask, sincere apologies to anyone affected by that

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3

summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.

No answer. 

What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.    

“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.” 

They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him. 

The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.

A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.” 

“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”

He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!

“That was fast,” the captor behind you said. 

“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”

“...Quaritch?” 

Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?

“In the flesh.” 

Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”

“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”

“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”

The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant. 

This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—

“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”

Silence again. 

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”

Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”

“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”

“Fucking bastard—”

With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.” 

You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!” 

“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”

“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped. 

Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?

Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”

“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.” 

“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”

“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”

“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?” 

“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”

“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”

“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”

He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.” 

“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”

“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”

“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?” 

He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”  

“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”

That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight. 

“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”

“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”

“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”

“Guys, what’s going on…”

Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.

“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”

“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”

“I didn’t, you—”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did n—”

“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s.  “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”

Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”

“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”

“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”

His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated. 

“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”

“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”

“Bro, you’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!” 

He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”

The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”

And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”

“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”

“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”

It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning. 

“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”

“You’re asking me?—”

The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”

Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”

Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”

“Great title for your autobiography.”

Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while. 

Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.

It wasn’t Tuk. 

Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows. 

The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.  

He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”

All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”

The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.” 

The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”

“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”

“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”

Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.

She nodded. “I know dad.”

He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand. 

Just what was happening? What had you done? 

Eywa, it had to be sky people. 

Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind. 

Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.

You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline. 

(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”

Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.

And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.

“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.

What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)

You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known. 

Think, think! How could you get out of this?

Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought. 

It was mom. 

Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix. 

Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.

But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.

All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you. 

You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off. 

How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up

All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father. 

You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.

Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. “Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.

In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point. 

“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”

You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that. 

Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches. 

Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you. 

At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.  

Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”  

His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin. 

“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”

You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’

But you were tired. 

Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life. 

Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”

He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word. 

Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain. 

Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right. 

Got an ikran for nothing. 

Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?

But no words were exchanged about it. 

Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone. 

A ticking time bomb. 

Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful. 

And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction. 

Yeah, no, he couldn’t know. 

Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way. 

Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.

Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”

He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.

The man just didn’t want to talk to you.    

And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety. 

“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”

Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves. 

“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily. 

Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”

You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to.  “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you. 

You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories. 

A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony. 

Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”

When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it. 

Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.” 

“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!” 

“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air?  “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”

Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.

A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry. 

“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”

“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”

But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”

The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.

“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”

Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!

Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”

The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute. 

Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.    

And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.   

It was over.

Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”

“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”

Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance. 

Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking. 

And you fulfilled his wish. 

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis@alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily @n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

[dunmeshistash]

Hi and thank you for all the service you do for us!

If it's not too much of a bother, could you please compile everything that is known about the structure of the dungeon? The maps, the floors, and what's there, if there are notes about what monster lives where, it would be amazing! I've found a few useful panels, but I'm not sure if I'm missing anything. Thanks!

So you mean information about "The Island" in specific? That's apparently the name of the dungeon they're in during the story. I can try

You can check the dungeons tag for more general information about dungeons.

Here's what the adventurer's bible says about the Island:

1 THE ISLAND

A new dungeon that was discovered just six years ago. It's rumored that the Golden Country that existed a thousand years ago still lies in its depths, imprisoned there by the Lunatic Magician

And here's what I said about it on that Dungeons post

"The island", which is the name given to the Dungeon Linked to Melini Village's Graveyard, is a "Compound-Style Dungeon" while other dungeons seem to have specific styles linked to other ancient civilizations (Dwarf-Style, Gnome-Style, Elf-Style) 'The Island' in specific seem to be a Compound Style between dwarfish and elvish styles. As Thistle says, continuing in ch 68, it was an ancient Dwarf construction that was then used by Elves. Maybe that's the reason the dwarfish inscriptions are only in the innermost levels of the dungeon. The Style then seems to indicate which ancient civilizations created the manmade Dungeon.

Idk much about the maps, there's some behind the characters in some covers but idk if they're accurate at all or what they represent but here they are:

About the floors we have a cross section that shows floors from floor 1 to floor 5 and a bit of 6

I'll just copy whats on the wiki cause I think it works and add images from the manga.

Floor 1

The uppermost floor of the dungeon. Once the graveyard of the nearby Merini Village, the discovery of the dungeon resulted in it filling with merchants and adventurers. There are sellers of manuscripts and incense, as well as an abundance of food stalls. There is also a demi-human slave market

Floor 2

The floor is filled with tall trees and towers, linked by wooden bridges. It is theorized by scholars that the area is the top of the Golden Castle sealed away by the Lunatic Magician.

Floor 3

The entrance to the Golden Castle, now moldy and covered in dust. Footsteps can be heard, but it is unclear if they are those of fellow adventurers or the undead. Most monsters on this floor are undead, rotting or skeletal. There are water fountains in the shape of lion's heads throughout the level. There are also toilets in the busier areas, which have been maintained by Senshi for many years.

Senshi's base camp is located here. There are also merchants on this level, but their clientele tend to be fairly shady.

Floor 4

The floor is a cave made up of the castle and an underground lake. The water has absorbed magical energy and glows faintly. At the bottom of the lake is the castle town.

Floor 5

The exit of the Golden Castle and the entrance to the castle town, which contain evidence of their former splendor. The streets often magically rearrange themselves, making navigation difficult. The orcs' former home is located here. There is an overgrown graveyard attached to the town that is populated by Dryads.

Floor 6

A network of underground waterways built using the mining tunnels of dwarves. It is stated that most monsters on this floor use mental attacks. This floor was once hot and humid, but is now cold and snowy.

Floor 7 (wiki calls it "Deepest part of the dungeon" but the monster guide says the monsters are on F7)

An old dwarven defensive site, filled with pipes, machinery and mechanical contraptions located past a large door with no visible lock. The floor is fairly warm. Further onward is an ancient dwarven city, hewn from the side of a cliff face, with giant fungi sprouting in some areas

--

Besides these floors there's also the Golden Kingdom and Thistle's home, the golden kingdom appears to not actually be conected to the rest of the dungeon directly? Since they need the ghosts to take them to and from there, Thistle's home seems to be past the 7th floor but might just be on the 7th I'm not sure.

About the monsters you can check on that wiki page which monsters show up on each floor (based on what shows up on the manga I think) but here's what the adventurer's bible says about which floor each ones lives:

All over the Dungeon

Walking Mushroom

Big Walking Mushroom

Dungeon Cleaner

Undine

The eyes of the Magician (Wyvern)

1F and bellow

Huge Scorpion

Green Slime (Mostly 1F)

2F and bellow

Mandrake

Man-Eating Plant

Big Bat

Basilisk (only 2F)

3F and bellow

Treasure Insects

Mimic

Living Armor (3F-5F)

Ghost

Golem

Living Painting

4F and bellow

Mermaid

Kelpie

Fish-Man

Giant Frog

Sea Serpent

Ivy Tentacles

Tentacles

Giant Kraken (only 4F)

5F and bellow

Dryad

Minotaur

Warg

Harpy

Cockatrice

Wyvern

6F and bellow

Barometz

Changeling

Shapeshifter

Hippogriff

Griffin

Nightmare

Red Dragon

Green Dragon

7F and bellow

Dungeon Rabbit

Bicorn

Unicorn

Succubus

Dullahan

Gargoyle

- (No habitat in the dungeon, were summoned by the Dungeon Lord)

Phoenix

Familiars

Hag

White Dragon

Easter Dragon

Wurm

Chimera

Flying Pig

Jackalope

Werewolf

Huge Spider

Quetzalcoatl

Hope all of this helps somehow!! Putting a readmore fucked up the formatting so I hope yall don't mind the huge post 😅

[tocomplainfriend]

SEE!? THEY DON'T CARE!

TW: Rape, SA, Homophobia, Misogyny, Misandry

The specific censored word with "-", it's for my own reasons and comfort. It's not censored up and in tags due to filtering! Sorry if I made mistakes like forgetting of filtering or similar, I haven't used tumblr much before!

THIS IS A R-PE JOKE! THAT'S WHAT I HAVE BEEN FUCKING SAYING! ONE OF MY BIGGEST PROBLEMS WITH EPISODE 4 IS THE FACT OF "we want to write an empowering story about men getting sexually assaulted. Men victim don't get that attentio-" BITCH, YOU MADE MANY R-PE AND SA JOKES ALL THE FUCKING WAY THROUGH HELLUVA AND KNOW HAZBIN! You are the one making fun of scenarios where your male characters get assaulted or r-ped.

HOW TF DO YOU PRETEND TO BE SOOO ABOVE PEOPLE (INCLUDING VICTIMS OF SA AND R-PE) THAT'S EXPRESSED HOW THEY FELT ON THE EXECUTIONS AND WHO WORKED IN EPISODE 4. WHEN YOU YOURSELF MAKE JOKES ABOUT IT????? For some context, Sir Pent is trying to get with Cherri, but always deflects first in case she rejects him. He offers her a drink, but immediately says it's because he'll buy a drink for everyone on the club. Then he asks Cherri if they can have sex- and deflects back (a repetition joke) "Because I'll have sex with everyone here". Then he gets dragged into a room by other people, yelling wait and no! And the door closes as you heard him scream.

Out of context in the screenshot, you might even think it might be a serious scene where something happens to Pentious. BUT NO! IT'S BRUSHED OVER REAL FAST AND PLAYED AS "HAHA SOMETHING BAD HAPPEN TO SIR PENTIOUS AGAIN LMAOO"- it's the punchline.

Then at the end of the episode he gets out asking "Where is Cherri" (who btw is having sex with a random guy).

And please don't say "Well, he asked for it"- you know how you sound. The whole point of the joke is that he is trying to get with Cherri and failing astronomically. The point here is that he really doesn't want to have sex with a bunch of random people, but he has to do it because he is getting dragged into a room. (Again, Pentious is like Moxxie Their joke it's getting trashed and bullied by the world or people around them).

You made a whole episode about dealing with a male character's sexual assault, abuse or r-pe. Saying how much you respect victims, and your episode, it's just perfect about the topic. BlaBlaBla- no, you don't. You made all this jokes since HB season 1. This new joke was episode 6 of HH. You never acknowledge power dynamics, or coercion. You never acknowledge anything bad in your show.

Remember, as much as this shows go for LGBTQ+ representation and Queer media. As a ""Female lead show"". This jokes link back (not only to making fun of SA and R-pe itself, but to) homophobia and Misogyny. A scenario of where a man gets SA'ed or r-ped by another man or woman- leads to a scenario where the character is made fun of for not being "masculine enough" for being a victim or for not being able to defend themselves. In a scenario where this happens by a man to man, "It's funny because the victim is viewed as gay. As less masculine = gay and that's bad cause gay = weak and feminine and the idea of feminine = weak".

(There are a few jokes here and there, like Blitzo touching Moxxie's dick after making fun of him for having a baby penis.)

If you didn't notice, Moxxie gets attacked by multiple succubus, and that's apparently funny. KEEP IN MIND is not basic physical violence-no he comes out with lipstick kisses marks, the sounds effects are (ugh)... and Blitz tells him "Don't let them access any of your holes". In other concepts, I want to point out that the times when Moxxie is viewed as a bottom or feminine- he is made fun of. When Millie pegs him, he is made fun of because he is the man of the relationship, being implied as the bottom. When he wears the outfit of unhappy campers, he is extra objectified or made fun of even more than in any other episodes. He is also forcefully put on a dress in his wedding.

He is made fun of for being SA'ed for being uncomfortable scenarios:

These aren't jokes made by characters that "are bad because they are from hell". These are scripted jokes written by a person searching for the audience to laugh.

AND the reason why many audiences accept this jokes or even find them funny is because of some of these views (internalized or not) above. You'll also notice how all these jokes are directed at men (if you find an R-pe or SA joke directed at a woman in this two show, say something about it! POINT IT OUT!). People accept and write these jokes more because they care less about the idea of a man being a victim of such situation. More often than not- in the present, a woman getting assaulted or anything similar in any media gets noticed and called out. THESE JOKES OR THE NORMALIZATION OF SEXUAL HARASSMENT, ASSAULT, COERCION, OR SIMILAR TOWARDS WOMAN STILL HAPPENS!!!! There is an idea that men just tend to just want sex all times at any time. -And that a man getting SA'ed or r-ped by a woman it's just sex, cause "Why wouldn't you like free pussy". When it's a gay perpetrator is viewed as funny cause "that makes you gay or a woman" and that's apparently hilarious. Men can be r-ped no matter what. Men can be targets of all of these acts.

Remember that all the scenes of sexual abuse, harassment and r-pe in Poison are directed by the R2. Who, once again, is into r-pe porn- and they themselves said they are not an SA victim either. So remember, not even a victim trying to cope with their own R-pe or SA. This person draws and ships "R-pe ships", and tags it as "naughty men uwu" bullshit. Also, a person so obsessed with the character of Angel that they changed their name to Tony (Angel's real human name), make themselves look like him, and become a sex worker like Angel. They themselves looked at a comic of Val threatening r-pe and abuse on Angel as "thank good you have balls to draw something mean with these too, I was so bored" ???? (this stuff is in:) and cosplay and take photos of your Val x Angel ship

Congrats if you as a victim yourself thought that the scene with Angel was good. If it helped you be and feel seen. But remember the rest of the show, the hypocritical writers, don't care enough to view it as a serious topic to not joke about. Both HB and HH written by the same people (as in Vivziepop), take their sweet time to turn these topics into jokes.

What pisses off more, it's the trying to make yourself be viewed as a sensitive person about such topic. Make it seem like you are a savior for writing about it in such "serious, powerful and not sugar coded" way. But then you drop that on the fucking ground to make a joke about it when you are tired of pretending you are so good. If you were so informed of SA and r-pe, you wouldn't be making these jokes. If you knew how much SA male victims struggle to get viewed as serious or their stories taken into account-you wouldn't be this shitty.

God, you are so proud of the joke too.

My poor snake guy... one of the few characters that I like-

[sadesluvr]

Dirty Little Secret

Even with a roster of sexual partners, Derek Danforth keeps coming back to you.

(Derek Danforth x GN! Reader)

A/N: I conjured this idea basically the moment Wallace started laying into Derek lmfao. You don’t have to have watched The Beekeeper to understand this (It’s chaotic and generic, but I had fun!) - Just know Derek is a coke and vape addicted, multi-millionaire crypto-selling playboy scammer who’s also the son of a president?😭 

The place mentioned in this fic (‘The Warehouse’) is fictional and not featured in the movie!

Word count: 1.3K

Tags: SMUT / Gender Neutral Reader / Drug usage (Cocaine) / WARNING: READER DOES A HIT OF COCAINE / Oral sex, M receiving / Degradation / Dirty talk / Implications of cheating / A little angsty, if you squint / This is just Reader giving Derek a blowjob so Minors DNI

‘Need u. Meet me at The Warehouse’

You needn’t check the message twice to know who it was. 

There was only one person in your life who spoke to you like this; who disappeared on most weekdays, only to show up on weekends between the hours of midnight to 5AM without a care in the world. The man’s name was Derek Danforth, a guy who ‘just happened’ to be the son of now President, Jessica Danforth.

You hadn’t met him through any lavish political gala, nor from a meet-and-greet after an inspiring TED Talk - no, he’d chosen the oh-so classy way to slide into your DM’s on Instagram. You’d come to know that fast and sleazy was Derek’s brand.

At first you’d thought it was a scam, not wanting to believe that a millionaire would even bother to speak to you, but a quick $100 transfer into your linked account had told you otherwise.

‘Think I’m real now?’ He’d messaged back, and it was from there that he’d sent a valet to your place for what was supposed to be a hookup.

He’d fucked you so good that night; the feel of his fingers gripping your ass as he pounded into you from behind still etched into your skin. He’d left marks; from marks sourced from his rabid teeth on your neck, to marks from the metal of his rings that had dug tiny scratches into your flesh.  He hadn’t shut up the entire time, grunting and groaning in your ear about how much of a dirty slut you were, and how good your tight hole felt against his cock. He’d probably said that to all the people he’d fucked.

Still, it got to you, and apparently to him also. What started as an unsuspecting DM turned into full contact, with 3AM calls and erotic FaceTime sessions. Derek was often high off of coke, or drunk, or somewhere in between, all whilst puffing on his vape, huffing the thick white air like a dragon. Fitting, because he was dangerous.

And you’d been pulled into his shiny lair once again.

The Warehouse, or what you liked to aptly dub the ‘Whorehouse’ was an underground club, apparently run by Derek’s dealer. Yes, Derek hadn’t even had the courtesy to take you to one of his many properties to do his business, deciding that a sweaty basement would be best for you.

At least you could somehow remain anonymous.

“Knees, now. I want a blowjob,” Derek said in his usual dismissive tone as he slumped on a red couch before leaning forward and sprinkling a white powder on the table. You rolled your eyes as he snorted it, watching as he ran a hand through his mullet, absorbing the endorphins into his bloodstream.

He looked up at you with furrowed brows. He wasn’t one used to dealing with insolence.

“I don’t have all day.”

“Jeez, a ‘hey’ would be nice,” you grumbled. “I had to work overtime, I barely even got settled at home —“

“So? I don’t fucking care,” he scoffed. “There’s a couch, you can settle here.”

You knew damn well there wasn’t going to be any ‘settling’. And as much as you hated it, you loved it. 

Derek spread his legs expectedly as you dived between them, struggling with his zipper to take out his hard cock. It didn’t matter if he was average sized - he'd more than proved himself to know how to use it. Still, it never got lost on you as to how thick he was, the filling sensation of his cock in your mouth for the first time becoming one of your favourites. 

He was already leaking precum, and you wasted no time in licking the fluids up before moving down to the rest of his length, with your hand planted firmly on the base of his cock. You started off with slow, but deliberate motions, desperate to feel his girth in every crevice of your mouth, motivated by the male’s drawn out moans. His head was flung back against the top of the couch, arms spread as he basically gave himself up to you - one of the rare times he would only surrender.

Until he got impatient and placed his hands on the back of your neck, grip firm as he began to drag your head up and down his length, demanding you increase the pace. Pools of spit began to build up inside of your mouth as he did, accommodating to the sudden force. Every time you retracted from his length, the pink flesh began to glimmer; shine, even, as you serviced it. To some, it was a taboo and demeaning act, but to Derek, it was the ultimate act of your submission and devotion to him. To this day, even a year on from your first encounter, you couldn’t understand why he kept coming back to you.

“Fuck,” he drawled, clenching his teeth down on his bottom as he heaved. “You’re so fucking good at this - It’s like you were just made for my cock…”

The statement caused your stomach to backflip, only encouraging you to take him deeper. His thick head was now inches away from the back of your throat, threatening to make you gag. Unfathomably, you seemed tempted to take that risk, but Derek intervened.

“Here,” he said flatly as he gently pushed you off of him, leaning down towards the table. “Try this,” 

He rolls up a fifty and guides your head along the white powder. Your nose tingles and your heart clenches a little, but there’s no immediate effect.

“It’ll take a while, but trust me, you’ll fucking feel it,” Derek smirks, drawing you from your thoughts. “Good thing we’ve got all night,”

It wasn’t long before you were back on his cock, vessel gripped firmly in your hand as you began to stroke him up and down, in tandem with the movements of your neck. 

“You’ve never had blow like this before,” he laughs, hands frantic as they gripped at his thighs, trying to hold them still. “Then again, you’ve never had a dick like this before either, hm? Don’t you have a boyfriend to go home to? Poor guy. I must have you whipped…”

Desperate to respond, you popped his cock out of your mouth, but he held up a hand to 

silence you. 

“I really don’t need to fucking hear it,” he chuckled. “You’re such a slut, you know that? You suck my dick, moan like a bitch, and keep coming back for more, but here you are arguing with me…I’m beginning to think you like this little relationship of ours,”

Who was he kidding? You both knew the truth.

You hummed, and Derek ran his tongue over his teeth, his bouncing leg beginning to quicken. His hands found your head, gripping the back of your neck as his cock began to twitch, vein throbbing against the flat of your tongue. He was always his most animalistic in the heat of the moment; and even though you enjoyed the culmination of your hard work, it was also the time where he spouted things, words and phrases that you knew were nothing but bullshit, and yet clouded your eyes with hope.

“Moan for me,” he grunted, pupils blown as they focused on the pornographic display below him. “Tell me that I’m the best you’ve ever had,”

You let out a whine, and he hummed.

“Worship me,” he continued. “Show me how much you love me…Fuck – Open your mouth…!”

Swiftly, Derek removed his aching member from your mouth, eyes wide as he watched a bridge of saliva form from your raw lips to his skin. With a few slick pumps, his fell half lidded as he came over your face, streaks of white fluid coating your cheeks and lips, with some even falling in your lashes and dripping onto your nose. He convulsed, as if he were temporarily losing grip on his sanity and panted as he tried for air. He ran his hands across his beard before he cupped your cheek, an indiscernible look in his eye before he patted it.

“Clean yourself up. I want you nice and fresh for round two.”

It pained you that you were so enthusiastic to oblige.

[amxrany]

!! CHAPTER 7 / DIASOMNIA ARC SPOILERS !!

Hey guys I'm awake and well now let's continue (Rook's Dream):

We find ourselves in Savanclaw where we find Savanaclaw Rook and I honestly love him here he looks like a dog I left outside in the rain by accident (affectionate)

Now everone's confused as to why Rook's in Savanaclaw, but then Rook drops the bomb that Vil is in RSA and everyone's like "WHAT?!"

Stop Rook is literally just being the biggest neigevil oshi cuz he just wants Vil and Neige to be besties 😭. He's so open about it too like he's literally geeking about their interviews together to the point that he's squeezing Grim and Epel cuz he got too excited (he's so fr for that honestly). But then Sebek snaps and Rook apologizes because no one in Savanaclaw is a neigevil fan as well :((

But Ortho encourages Rook by wanting to visit his room so that they can learn about Neige and Vil. Grim questions the decision, but that's like the only way they can break Rook out of the dream, and now Rook's just murmuring to himself and how he will introduce them to Vil and Neige

Once they're near Rook's room he literally told them not to barge into his room and the gang did exactly what they're not supposed to do

AND OH MY GOD ROOK'S ROOM IS JUST????

(pov: you're in a neigevil oshi competition but your opponent is rook hunt)

SEBEK THOUGHT THIS WAS A RITUAL ROOM FOR A SECOND AND ROOK IS CURRENTLY LOSING IT 😭😭😭. Apparently Rook has been hiding his hyperfixation for THREE YEARS and he can't just let the group go...until they watch DVDs of neigevil interactions

This went on for five hours and Rook was gushing, sobbing and crying over it, Silver actually slept for the first time in the realm of dreams because of this 💀. Before the group leaves, Epel couldn't help but ask Rook if he still remembers what happened during VDC, an d Rook mentions that he remembers that Vil and Neige performed "Yahoo, Yahoo" together.

The group meets again with Idia, and they're discussing the events of Book 5, and how the entire incident during VDC might have been the root cause for Rook's dream to turn out like this. Because in this dream, Rook never transfers to Pomefiore because Vil was never in NRC to begin with. Rook was most likely haunted by that incident because he trusted Vil so much, that he'd rather have Vil and Neige be friends instead of rivals to prevent the whole overblot situation

SO NOW THE GANG IS THINKING OF A WAY TO WAKE UP ROOK BY PERFORMING ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL

(I REALLY WANT TO SEE THE WHOLE THING YA'LL TO WHOEVER HAS A LINK TO THE RHYTHMIC PLS SEND IT TO MEEEEEE)

But their positions are the following: Vil - Epel Jamil - Ortho Epel - Sebek Kalim - Yuu Ace - Grim Deuce - Silver

Basically Epel had to teach the others the entire choreography of Absolutely Beautiful and he said it's fine if they don't perfect it because in the original they weren't able to perfect it as well. But then everything suddenly goes blurry and we get dream Vil and dream Neige suddenly performing "Yahoo, Yahoo", and now Rook is back to being an oshi again.

But Epel wasn't having it, he points out to Rook that the real Vil looks more sinister and had a more sharper look to him and that he was more poisonous and beautiful. That's when Epel told Rook that he was a far worse traitor back when he voted for RSA if he tells the words that Vil wanted to hear to the fakes.

That wakes Rook up, he remembers everything now because he was wondering why he cried during their Absolutely Beautiful performance. Idia then gives Rook the "invite" to join them as well. Rook changes clothes and fights

Btw I just wanna show you guys his groovy here because it's that special to me

Idia was laughing because he now has a video of Sebek dancing and Sebek is just yelling at him that he won't forgive him if he showed it to anyone.

Surprisingly Rook mastered thew magical girl transformation faster than the gang, but they're learning. Rook also tags along with the gang to save the last person, Vil

AND WE'RE DONE WITH ROOK'S DREAM, JESUS CHRIST IT GOES FROM UNSERIOUS TO SERIOUS IT'S FUNNY. But I'm covering Vil's dream last, see you then!

Next: Vil's Dream Previous: Epel's Dream

[marvel-ous-m]

✨ The Planets and the Fates (and All the Stars) Aligned ✨

WC: 4264 | Rating: T | Tags: Platonic Stobin, Famous!Eddie Munson/Guidance Counselor!Steve Harrington, Meet-Cute, Platonic HellCheer, Buckingham Mentioned | AO3 Link

Happiest of birthdays to the one and only @hairstevington !! You are such an inspiration and I'm truly honored to call you a friend. I hope that today is all you want it to be and more. Getting to know you through STWG has been one of the highlights of my year, and I will always have Sharkboy and Lavagirl to thank for that. <3 Taylor Lautner and his impact are frankly unmatched. 

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this very silly little platonic Stobin adventure, featuring Steddie and Buckingham Meet-Cutes

“Robin, do you seriously think that it’s a good idea to empty out our savings accounts so that we can fly across the country for a film screening?” Steve took a bite of his cereal and raised his eyebrows at her. They were seated on opposite sides of their thrifted dining room table, Steve eating cereal as a late-night dinner while Robin sat with him, splitting her time between scrolling TikTok on her phone and teaching herself how to cross stitch. It was her latest hyperfixation craft, and based on how long her craft kicks usually lasted, she’d be retiring this one in a week or so. 

Well, it was nice while it lasted. 

“I just got an advertisement for the Seattle International Film Festival, and the ad specifically showed me a clip of our movie, Steve!”

Steve hummed, taking another bite of his cereal. “Don’t you think it’s a little strange to call it ‘our movie’? We were extras, Rob, we were in it for a few seconds, if that.” 

Robin let out a huff of annoyance, then turned her phone to face Steve. It was playing the TikTok she had described on loop, depicting a few split-second scenes from the various movies that would be shown at the festival. The scene that had been chosen from ‘their’ movie, Please Turn the Lights Off, was the ‘hotel lobby’ scene. Steve and Robin had portrayed rabid fans alongside a hundred other extras in that scene, screaming about the arrival of up-and-coming rockstar Robert “Bobby” Star to the hotel. They were, however, not visible in the split-second clip that Robin was now shoving in his face.

Apparently, Please Turn the Lights Off was a movie about overconsumption and parasocial relationships. Robin had found out as much a few months ago when the trailer dropped, and she’d gushed about how absolutely outstanding it looked. Steve wanted to see the movie, yeah, but he wasn’t exactly sold on the idea of dropping two paychecks to fly across the country to do that. 

“It’ll be fun, Steve! It can be an adventure. How many other times are we going to get the opportunity to say that we attended a movie premiere for a film that we were in?” Robin pleaded with him, her eyes going wide and her lips forming a pout. 

Steve huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Look, Birdie, I love you, you know that- but no matter what you say, you’re not convincing me.” 

“Steve, do you have the hotel information? I have to call the Uber, and for some reason I can’t find the details on my phone.” Robin grumbled out her question as she scrolled through her emails, oblivious to Steve’s struggling with their bags at baggage claim. 

Why had he agreed to do this again? 

“I forwarded you the email two weeks ago, Robs. We’re booked at the DoubleTree- the one here next to the airport, not the one downtown.” 

Robin hummed, then let out a soft, “Aha!” when she found the booking. “Thanks, Stevie.”

Steve gave a half-hearted “You’re welcome” in response, dragging Robin’s luggage over to where she was standing. 

“Okay, I booked the Uber, I think we need to go… upstairs? No, downstairs. Yeah, we need to go downstairs and across the street in the next two minutes.” Robin shot Steve a blinding smile, then began to walk in the direction of the rideshare pickup, leaving Steve to handle the bags. 

The things he did for Robin Buckley.

Finding the Uber wasn’t too difficult when all was said and done. Thankfully, the driver had been willing to wait for an extra few minutes while Steve and Robin navigated the twists and turns of Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. The drive to their hotel ended up being pretty short, too. 

Once they got checked in, dragged the luggage upstairs, and arrived at their room, Steve was ready to fall over. Robin, however, seemed like she was ready to do the exact opposite.

“We should go downtown! Grab some drinks, explore the city- I heard that you can actually go up in the space needle. Isn’t that, like crazy? Oh, and it rotates!”

Steve dropped their bags by the bed, let out an exhausted groan, then fell onto the bed face-first. His response to Robin was muffled by the pillow he had fallen onto. “I am not going anywhere until it’s time for us to leave for the screening event tomorrow. I’m so tired.” 

Robin huffed and flopped onto the mattress next to him, poking his arm. “Come on. It wasn’t that bad! We just had to leave our apartment at, like, 4:30am? That’s only two hours earlier than you usually wake up, I don’t know why you’re being such a baby about it.” 

Steve sighed, rolling over onto his back. He gave Robin an unimpressed look. “If you’re still awake in an hour, even after I’ve turned off all the lights and put on Lo-fi, we can explore downtown.” 

Robin grinned. “Deal.” 

Low and behold, she fell asleep before Steve did. 

Yeah, he kinda knew that would happen. 

“I should have gone with the other outfit, right? This top doesn’t go with the pants. Do you think the top goes with the pants? Steve, I can’t go to our cinematic debut in an outfit that clashes.” Robin groaned, tugging at the sleeve of her button-up shirt as they walked into the venue. 

Steve wrapped an arm around her shoulders and shot Robin a reassuring smile. “You look great, Robs. You’re overthinking it because you’re nervous, the outfit doesn’t clash at all.”

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that?” Robin frowned down at her clothes- a green button up shirt tucked into black slacks with a gray suit vest over top of it. “It’s not, like… too dull?” 

“Nah, it’s nice! You look great. It’s a good shade of green, it really compliments your eyes.” Steve pulled his phone out of his pocket as he spoke. They were approaching the ticket reader, and he wanted to have it ready for the scanner. 

Robin brushed her hands down her shirt to try and flatten out a few wrinkles, then let out a resigned sigh. “Alright. Thanks, dingus. For what it’s worth, your outfit is perfect.” 

The person staffing the ticket counter scanned the two digital tickets on Steve’s phone, then waved them through. Steve kept his phone out as he navigated to their seats in the theater. “Really? I sorta felt like the pink shirt was a bold choice, but I had to pay homage to the pink streak in my hair from when we were filming this. Plus, y’know, pink and black- classic color combo.”

“May the pink streak of hair and the bet that she represents always live on in infamy.” Robin replied, dramatically lamenting the loss of the pink and the return of his natural hair color.

“I’m still in shock that somehow you knew Tommy Hagan had a crush on me in highschool before I did.” Steve pocketed his phone as they reached their seats, ushering Robin into the already almost-full row they had arrived at. He took the seat on the aisle and glanced around the theater for a moment, eyes widening when he realized how many people were present. 

“Yeah, well, I’m still shocked that you never realized how many people were head over heels for you back then. Still, I’m glad it only took three shots for Tommy to make a move, I did not want to see Tommy Hagan more drunk than that, and I really didn’t want to take over laundry duty for a month. Laundry duty sucks.”

Steve gave a distracted hum. “I find it calming.”

“I don’t know how. First you have to sort dirty clothes, which, like, ew. Then you have to use different soaps, and god forbid you mess up the point at which you put the soap in, then you have to wait around…” Steve allowed Robin’s rambling to serve as background noise as he continued to look around the room. Did all of these people work on the film? A few people in the back of the theater looked really excited, which was sort of weird. It’s not like anyone important would be showing up to this thing, right? 

The lights in the theater dimmed, and Robin quieted next to him, then slapped a hand against his arm. “Steve! Oh my god, it’s starting!” She hissed out her excitement in a whisper, and Steve couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. 

His expression turned into an open-mouthed gape when the director walked onto the stage in front of the movie screen, joined by the leads in the movie- Eddie Munson and Tammy Thompson. 

“What the fuck?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m really surprised that Tammy Thompson’s manager put her in all Gucci for this event, it’s not really her style. Still, you have to admit, it’s a look.” Robin muttered next to him. Steve honestly had no clue what she was even talking about. 

Instead, his eyes were glued on Eddie Munson. “You didn’t tell me that the people were gonna be here.” Steve whispered absently, his eyes raking over Eddie’s outfit. Whoever his manager was knew how to style him, that’s for sure. His hair was all curls, styled perfectly to frame his face, and he was dressed in a floral-print black suit. He was wearing a maroon button-up underneath all the black, and the whole look made Steve… well, it made him feel some things. 

“People? What people? Oh, shit, do you mean the actors? Steve, Stevie, light of my life, that is common sense, I fear. It’s a movie premiere, the cast is gonna show up. Didn’t you see all the goth-y teens waiting outside? They’re all here to meet Eddie at the meet and greet after.” Robin put her hand on Steve’s knee as she spoke, and Steve swallowed down the sudden bout of anxiety churning in his stomach. 

The cast was here. Eddie fucking Munson was here. There was a meet and greet that was going to be happening. This whole movie premiere thing was actually a big deal, and the movie was starting, and Steve was about to see how much he actually made it into said movie. He was about to see his name on the credits at the end of the film and- holy shit, wow. Okay, he could see why Robin actually wanted to attend this thing now. 

“..and, well, that’s why I felt motivated to make this movie. Eddie, Tammy, and the rest of the cast and crew really brought life to this story. I hope that you enjoy watching it as much as we enjoyed creating it! Without further ado, here is Please Turn the Lights Off.” The Director finished his welcome then stepped off the stage with Eddie and Tammy, and Steve’s attention shifted from Eddie Munson to the screen that flickered to life. 

The movie was good. 

Like, really good. 

Like, made-Steve-cry-at-the-end, good. That’s a hard thing to accomplish. He didn’t even cry when he watched Coco. It was a close thing, yeah, but still, his point stands. He’s not quick to get emotional at movies. 

“Wow. That was wild, that scene at the end with Bobby and his manager really killed me.” Robin began speaking the second the lights came up, loud enough that Steve could still hear her over the thundering applause from the rest of the audience. “I think I spotted us in three different scenes, Steve! How cool is that? They even got our faces at one point, isn’t that awesome?”

“Yeah, that’s- that’s really cool, Robs.” In truth, Steve had mostly forgotten to look for himself in the scenes with extras as he watched the movie. He did spot his face in the one instance where it had been shown, but the other two scenes that he and Robin apparently made it into, the two that she just mentioned? Steve had no idea what she was talking about. 

The director got back on stage to say a few words, then encouraged people to line up near the stage if they wanted to do a meet and greet with the cast members. Fans crowded to the front of the room in seconds, while others slowly made their way out of the theater. Steve and Robin stayed in their seats. 

“We should line up to do the meet and greet, yeah?” Robin nudged Steve’s arm, a teasing smile on her face. “I can meet Tammy, you can meet Eddie.” Her smile grew wider, and Steve groaned. 

“Robin, he’s nice to look at, yeah, but he’s also one of the biggest up-and-coming stars in Hollywood right now. I’ll feel like… I don’t know, like a lovesick fangirl going up to him and saying hi.” 

Robin shrugged at that, standing and pulling Steve up with her. “I mean, yeah, but that’s not really a bad thing, y’know? That’s why they’re here, they’re expecting that. Just, I don’t know, tell him that the scene of him having a breakdown in the bathroom made you cry, I’m sure he’ll be honored.” 

Steve allowed Robin to pull him along, but gave her a deadpan, “I’m not telling him that,” followed by a glare when she glanced back at him. 

“Well, you should tell him something. Looks like we’ll have a lot of time to figure out what that something is, seeing as we’re last in the line of at least a hundred people right now.” 

Steve grimaced at the length of the meet and greet line. It was long, yeah, and it looked like it ended with them, seeing as the theater was otherwise empty aside from those already in line ahead of them, hoping to meet the stars of the movie. 

It took almost an hour to finally reach the cast. They were lined up along the side of the stage, and each took a few seconds to sign a poster of the film that was included in the price of the ticket while chatting with the fans. Eddie was at the end of the line, next to Tammy. 

Given that Steve and Robin were the final audience members in the line, the cast began to disperse as soon as they were done signing their posters and chatting with them. By the time they reached Eddie and Tammy, the rest of the cast had left in the theater, and the theater employees had started to clean up the venue for the next showing that evening. 

Robin went straight to Tammy and immediately started gushing about her outfit. Tammy signed the poster and met Robin’s excitement with a pasted-on smile. Steve grimaced at Tammy’s rather obvious insincerity and made his way to Eddie, handing over the poster with silent anxiety. 

“Hey!” Eddie greeted him with a smile and looked down to sign the poster, then did a double take, eyes going wide when he saw Steve’s face. “Wait- do I know you?” 

“What?” Steve squeaked, eyes going wide. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “No! I mean, not really? I mean, probably not, I just- uh. I was in the movie, for, like, a second. I was an extra. You could see my face in the crowd in the scene where you were playing the outdoor show, and I guess I was in other scenes too, but… uh, I don’t know which ones. I got kind of distracted and forgot to look for myself in the movie.”

“Huh.” Eddie squinted at Steve for a moment, then his eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh yeah! You’re pink hair dude!” 

Steve couldn’t help the way his mouth dropped open in shock. “You remember that?”

“Yeah man, of course. You’ve got a hard face to forget.” Eddie winked, and Steve felt his cheeks flush. 

“Oh, uh- thanks? I guess?”

“What happened to the pink streak, anyway?” Eddie frowned as he looked at Steve’s hair, presumably searching for the now-absent color. 

“My friend Robin and I made a bet, and she had me get it after I lost. I had to dye it back to brown because I started a new job and-” Steve glanced Robin’s way, and was surprised to see her chatting with someone who was decidedly not Tammy. No, now she was talking to a blonde woman in stilettos and a power suit, who seemed charmed by Robin’s rambling. 

“-uh, and, anyways, sorry. I didn’t mean to, like, talk your ear off or anything-” Steve was suddenly very aware that Eddie was the only cast member left in the theater, and that he was probably only here because Steve wouldn’t stop talking. 

“No need to apologize! I’m having a good time chatting with you- trust me, I wouldn’t stick around if I wasn’t.” Eddie smirked. “So, you had to dye it back for work? What do you do?” 

Steve’s anxiety calmed at Eddie’s reassurance, and was practically gone by the time Eddie was asking about his job. “Oh, I’m a guidance counselor at a middle school back in New York. It’s really rewarding to get to help so many kids. Middle school is a tough time, y’know? I just like getting to be there for them, being an adult that they can talk to about all the complicated stuff in their lives.” 

Eddie’s eyes grew wide. “New York? You’re from New York? Did you fly all the way out here for this?” 

“Uh, yeah? It was my friend Robin’s idea. She’s over there.” Steve pointed to where Robin was standing with the mystery blonde woman, and Eddie’s lips quirked into a knowing smile. 

“Huh. Looks like your friend found my friend. That’s my manager, Chris.” Eddie chuckled under his breath. “Knowing her, they’ll probably be talking for a while- which is great, because that means we can chat a little longer. So, let me get this straight. You flew all the way across the country for a movie screening, for a film that you were an extra in, just… for what? The heck of it?” 

Steve crossed his arms, growing a bit defensive at Eddie’s tone. “Yeah? I mean, Robin and I, we pick up odd jobs. She’s an art teacher at my school and we really don’t have much to do during the summer months. She’s the one who got us the extra gig when the movie was filming last summer. About a month ago she saw the advertisement for this and was like, ‘when else are we going to get to a movie premiere for a movie we were in’, and I was pretty against it, but eventually she pushed me into it and- look, I know it’s stupid, but-” 

“I don’t think it’s stupid.” Eddie cut Steve off. “I think it’s really nice, actually. It’s cute.”

“Oh.” Steve swallowed down the rest of his words and tucked his hands into his pockets. 

“Yeah, like, I did something similar for the first movie I was in. I think I had… one line, maybe two? I got so excited that I took a road trip to see the premiere down in Austin. I slept in my van and showed up probably reeking of weed, but it was a special moment for me. Granted, I planned on getting into showbiz for most of my life. Even though that doesn’t exactly seem like that’s your end goal, something like this can still be pretty special.” 

Steve ducked his head to hide the blush that was slowly making its way up to the top of his ears. “Yeah, I suppose so.” 

Eddie nudged his elbow against Steve’s, then gave him a delighted smile when their eyes met. “So, New York? What area are you in?” 

“Hm? Oh, we’re in Albany, but given how much Robin loves traveling to the city, we should really just move out there.” Steve chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he thought of the countless weekend trips to the city that they had taken.

“Ah, yeah- the city’s fun. I’ve got a place in Greenwich, actually. It’s not home, that’ll always be in Tennessee with my Uncle Wayne, but I’d say it’s the next closest thing.” He brought a hand up to his hair and began to fiddle nervously with one of the strands. “So, is it just you and Robin, then? No other roommates or, um… partners?” 

Steve shook his head, oblivious to the intent behind Eddie’s question. “Nope, just us! Robs and I moved out to New York a few years ago, and we’ve seen a few people here and there, but nothing permanent- and, honestly, nothing for a while. Robin would rather go to shows in the city than sit through awkward first dates back home, and I can’t exactly blame her, y’know? First dates suck.” Steve registered the words he said after he said them, and felt himself go red in embarrassment. He really needed to get over his whole ‘oversharing-when-nervous’ thing. 

Eddie smirked, amused, and opened his mouth to respond. Before he could, he was interrupted by Chrissy, who made her way over to them with Robin trailing behind her. “Hey guys, not to break this up, but Eds- we’ve really gotta get going. Your flight to LA leaves in two hours.” 

Eddie glanced at his watch, then gave Steve an apologetic look. “Shit, yeah, we really need to head out.” He looked down at the poster, still gripped in his other hand, and huffed out a laugh. “Damn, all that talking and I never signed this for you! Here, let me jussst-” Eddie manifested a sharpie from his pocket and scrawled his signature onto the glossy print. 

Eddie handed the poster back, his smirk having turned slightly nervous. Steve’s fingers brushed against Eddie’s when he took the poster back, and Steve bit his lip to hide the smitten smile that he knew was starting to creep onto his face. 

“I’ll, uh, catch you later.” Eddie muttered with a blush, then stepped away to join Chrissy, who led him toward the back entrance to the theater. 

Steve glanced down at the movie poster in his hand as Eddie and Chrissy walked away. His eyes grew wide when he saw what Eddie had scrawled there. 

Eddie Munson

Let’s meet up in NY, pretty boy. I’ll make sure the first date doesn’t suck ;)

315-555-2595 

Holy shit. 

Eddie Munson just gave Steve his personal cell phone number. 

Eddie Munson just called him pretty.

Eddie Munson just asked him on a date.

“Oh my god, Steve. Chrissy is, like, the best. She gave me her number! I’m sort of freaking out, I don’t know if I’ll ever meet anyone as beautiful as her ever again.” Robin sidled up next to him, her eyes still glued to the retreating celebrity and his manager. 

Steve rolled up the poster and tucked it under his arm for safekeeping. At the same time, he decided to let his shock over getting asked out by Eddie take a backseat. He could tell Robin later, and she could help him figure out what to do next. For now, he’d much rather hear about Robin’s interaction with Eddie’s manager. “Let’s go grab a bite, Robs. You can tell me all about Chris while we’re out.” 

Robin grinned and wrapped her arm around Steve’s waist. “Okay! Hey- do you still hate me for making you come all the way out here for the movie screening?” The question was clearly made in jest, and Steve couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him in response.

“Hate you? Nah, I don’t hate you. Maybe ‘despise’ is a better word choice?” 

“Steven Marie Harrington, take that back!”

“Loathe? Detest?”

“I’m never speaking to you again.” Robin could barely speak through her laughter as she pushed Steve away. 

“Nooo, whatever will I do?” Steve deadpanned his response, and earned himself another shove from Robin. 

Steve let out an exaggerated oomph, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders, letting his tone shift into something far more sincere. “Thanks for convincing me to come out here, Robs. It was worth the trip.” 

“Yeah? Good. I’m glad you feel that way.” They exited the front entrance of the theater and crossed the street. As far as Steve knew, they didn’t have a destination in mind, but he figured a restaurant would pop up sooner or later. “Anyways, since you’re so grateful, I fully expect to be the officiant at your wedding with Eddie.” 

Steve choked on the air he was breathing and doubled over with laughter, which sent Robin into a fit of giggles. She hadn’t even seen what Eddie wrote on his poster, but she always knew what was going on in his head, didn’t she? 

“As if, Robin. Even if, in some strange turn of events, I did for some reason marry Eddie Munson, you wouldn’t officiate. Knowing you, you’d be in tears the whole time, and I’d much rather you be my maid of honor in that case so you don’t have to try and talk through your crying. My mind is made, and no matter what you say, you’re not convincing me.” 

Three years later, Robin Buckley served as officiant of Steve and Eddie’s wedding- and yeah, she used a lot of tissues, but Steve couldn’t think of anyone better to perform the ceremony than his best friend, the person who helped him meet Eddie in the first place. 

Besides, as far as Steve was concerned, Robin Buckley would always get her way.

[primalmagic]

ATTENTION AT ALL PEOPLE WHO ARE STARTING TO POST CREATIVE STUFF HERE!

i'm going to make this an actual post because reblogs don't show up on the tag, so hey, q refugees! someone reached out to me and told me about something even i didn't know, but that is a danger to a lot of you migrating.

apparently, a lot of people don't know about this from quotev, so here's something to be made clear:

TUMBLR USES YOU'RE ARTWORK / WRITING / ETC TO TRAIN AI MODELS. YOU HAVE TO "OPT" OUT OF IT

please reblog and make sure that people find out about this- this is new to a lot of people who are coming here from quotev in hopes of having a platform to show their art, etc. even people who don't post art or writing, it's still feeding off you- so it's always best to opt out.

you also have to do this with EVERY blog. more information can be found on the link below, aka the main post.

wondering how to opt out of it? look at the official staff post on the topic. it has instructions and the new policies.

stay safe loves, and don't let tumblr sell you're work to ai's <33.

--

Credit to this post:

[emmett6]

i am being attacked by antis.

this is emmett. emmettnet, emmettverse, emmettland, emmettundead, emmettlab. whichever blog you knew me from.

i am a whump creator. i've been in the whump community for a few years now. and now, i am unable to share my work with the community on here because people are mass reporting me for being a proshipper, and Tumblr keeps deleting my blogs as a result.

(if that isn't the reason why, i would be more than happy to get the explanation from @staff that i've been asking for.)

now, that is speculation on my part based on the timing of each termination (it's after i put my pinned post in the whump tags).

but here are the facts:

months ago, i became comfortable enough to share proshipping content. seeing as how every other artist would link their nsfw work on here, i thought it was acceptable for me to do the same so long as the preview image did not violate any rules.

an anon asked if i was a proshipper, and i said i didn't ascribe to that label*, but i agreed with the philosophy.

*i don't have any choice BUT to use it now because my posts get removed for describing what the content is

note that this anon asked multiple people in the whump community if they were proshippers. it was the same person each time, same copy-and-pasted responses.

i kept posting my proshipping content, all with links and extensive content warnings.

i started getting anon hate.

my account was terminated. after further reflection and rereading the terms of service AGAIN, i figured maybe links are not allowed and so i switched to DM only.

this time, the anon hate was consistent. every week was something new. every day felt like bracing myself to open my inbox. i kept anon on, since i have so many people who feel uncomfortable sending asks off anon and didn't want to take away their safe space.

months pass. i go on hiatus for all of July. i find out someone stole my old nsfw art and reposted their edited versions of it to rule34, a site that i never wanted my work to be on. this person waited until the exact starting day of my hiatus to do this.

i come back to more anon hate in my inbox.

suddenly, out of nowhere, my account is terminated again.

i make a new blog. more anon hate. another termination.

lather, rinse, repeat.

i stopped doing DM only stuff. i figured, if i just link my other platforms and only post safe things on Tumblr, there's nothing in the rules against that. everyone has links to their social media.

i still get terminated. and again, i keep getting terminated after i post my pinned post in the whump tags. which -- speculation again -- leads me and others to think that these antis are stalking the whump tags, waiting for me to show up so they can mass report me and get me terminated.

i have NO idea what they would report, aside from claiming i'm trying to "dodge being blocked". which, i'm not. in fact, i say every single time i come back that i WANT people to block me if they need to.

but regardless, it keeps happening.

i'm losing a place i considered home.

i'm being forced out of a community on here i love so dearly.

and you want to know something funny? for some strange reason, i'm unable to block my anons. yup. an 'error' message comes up. and i'm apparently unable to report them too -- like reporting the one who called me a 'tumblr tranny' and said i would 'always be a woman' for hate speech. oops, sorry. error message.

by now, i've been called evil. told to listen to my intrusive thoughts. told that i should be on a watch list. told that it's disgusting that someone's mutuals still interact with me. told that i have no place in the whump community.

i know that's not true.

i'm so sick and tired of being treated like this. i'm tired of being dehumanized. and i'm disgusted with this behavior.

at this point, i'm just screaming as many times as i can. i'll keep losing blogs, because i know my attackers will read this and just keep on reporting me. what do they have to lose? nothing. they don't have enough of a conscience to care. and why should they? clearly, i'm a monster. i'm a piece of shit. i don't deserve basic respect, and i apparently don't deserve to keep my 'platform'. to stay in my community and to keep my livelihood.

my discord is emmettnet. send me a DM if you don't want to lose me, because there is no point in following me repeatedly just for every blog to be terminated.

if you want to reblog this to spread the word and show your support, i would be eternally grateful. but i understand if you choose not to; i don't want anyone to be subjected to what i'm going through.

thank you for reading.

[drunk-person]

Lys the lovely (Modern Au) P.5

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x cousin!reader

Summary: One of the most talked about gossips among the lower class servants in Kings Landing is the fact (or not) that Aemond Targaryen got involved with his cousin Y/n Targaryen when they were both teenagers. Mainly due to the fact that at the age of 17 she was sent to Old Town overnight. Some employees claim that Aemond was caught between her legs. Some say that, like her father, she had had a horrible fight with her uncle and aunt and was sent away. And other than that none of this happened, she just became interested in the course offered at the Old Town conservatory. But now five years later, Y/n Targaryen is back, and rumors haunt those who favor them.

This chapter is a part of a main story The gossip, you can find the previous chapter, summary and general tags by accessing the link.

Summary of the chapter: Aemond and Y/n decide to escape for a moment alone in the most isolated place they know, but the world outside keeps turning.

Warnings of the chapter: 18+ mdni! Fluff, summer things, light alcohol consumption, couples trip, slight codependency, no description for reader.

Word count: 12.500 k

A/N: I hope you like the new chapter, I'm very happy and grateful for all the dear people who commented on the previous chapter, thank you very much, your comments inspire me! Comments and suggestions are welcome 💕

A/N²: I listened to several songs while writing this chapter, Summer Time Sadness by Lana was one of them, but one that really hit me and I listened to a lot was Little Talks of Monsters and Men, maybe you think it fits. I hope you enjoy the new chapter. 💕💕

❦❦❦

"Hey hey kings landing, Floris Baratheon showed up alone at the opening of Lyana Blackwood's restaurant. Apparently when they asked her about Aemond Targaryen she didn't seem very happy, and some even said she rolled her eyes at times when talking about him. Could it be that our once unshakable couple is going through problems?"

❦❦❧

The company was almost completely deserted when Aemond and Y/n went down to the parking lot, which was a good thing since the appearance of both of them was not what could be called presentable. Y/n's hair, previously perfectly tied in a bun with braids, was completely loose and with the braids coming out of the sides, her clothes were completely wrinkled and her legs were still trembling.

Aemond wasn't in much better condition, with his hair messy and his clothes disheveled, but the smile was constant on his lips. The older man rested his jacket on Y/n's shoulders, since the blouse was sticking to her sweaty skin and marking her beautiful breasts that belonged only to his eyes. She just smiled at him brightly as they rode in the elevator.

-I can't wait for us to be alone in Lys. - Y/n's excitement was visible as she got into the car, already taking off her heels and putting them in the bag, and also Aemond's jacket, hanging it on the seat.

-Do you know that since I left I haven't been to the beach anymore? I've missed the sea a lot. - The smile was constant as she spoke, it was almost that same innocent smile from childhood when they both discovered something new that excited them both.

Aemond felt almost physical pain hearing her say that with such joy. Every time he stopped, even for a second, to think about everything she had lost in the last few years, he felt bile rising in his throat with the guilt of not having done anything to stop it.

He knew there was more to it than Y/n was telling him, that she wasn't as okay with all of this as she seemed, but the idea of ​​pressuring her to talk without knowing if she was ready didn't seem right to him, and in the end, he didn't even know if he was ready to talk about everything that happened that night and in the five years that followed. He just wanted to see her happy, and be happy by her side.

-I heard there's a luau on the beach that's beautiful. - Y/n sighed, crossing one leg over the other and leaning towards Aemond. - We can watch the stars together.

-It's going to be wonderful. - He smiled sideways and gently squeezed her thigh. The oldest was driving while Y/n chattered excitedly about everything they were going to do at the weekend and looked out the window observing the city at night. Little by little, her brow furrowed as she observed the path that was visibly different from the one they had taken earlier.

-Where are we going, Aem? - Her voice was curious as she looked at him expectantly.

-Well, if we're going to take the weekend off to spend time together… let's make the most of it. - He shrugged, looking at her while stopping at the traffic light. - I'm going straight to the airfield.

-You swear? - She smiled excitedly and Aemond nodded.

-We'll take the jet from there and be in Lys in 2 hours at the most.

Aemond was giving that simple side smile as he said this, and Y/n jumped on him distributing kisses on his neck and cheeks, she only stopped when they both heard a horn and noticed the green light of the traffic light invading the car. He just rolled his eyes and huffed while Y/n laughed returning to her seat. The remaining path was not very long with the Aerodrome being located south of the city near Rhaenys hill, Aemond just stopped at a pizzeria on the way at Y/n's request and picked up a pizza to take away.

-Mr. Targaryen. - The pilot greeted Aemond respectfully as they entered. - Going to a business meeting?

The man's gaze changed instantly and he had to force himself not to choke when he saw Y/n next to Aemond.

-Not today, Captain White. - Aemond approached the man with a serious gaze. - I'm going to Lys with my cousin, and I would like your utmost discretion regarding this.

Faced with Aemond's completely serious tone, the man just nodded, avoiding looking at the two any longer.

-And when do you plan to return? - He still looked away as he questioned his boss.

-You can pick us up on Sunday night.

-Yes, sir. - The older man said, already going to prepare things for takeoff and leaving them alone.

-I know I already said that I love your business voice, but I'll say it again. - Y/n smiled, hanging onto Aemond's neck now that they were alone. - I love your business voice.

Aemond just gave a sideways smile and pulled her closer by the waist, leaving a peck on her soft lips, and then pulled her by the waist in the direction of the hangar.

A few minutes later, they were both already settled inside the private jet Targaryen just waiting for takeoff without suitcases, without giving any satisfaction. Just the two of them, without anyone else knowing.

After the jet took off and was stabilized, the two took off their seat belts and sat in front of the television with Y/n pulling the pizza box while Aemond took the TV control.

-No movies with historical drama. You know I hate sad endings. - Y/n protested, snuggling closer to Aemond. - Remember when they showed a movie about the story of Elia Martell in ancient history class? I cried like a baby!

-You were sad for days. - The oldest threw his head back laughing at the memory.

-That's not funny! - Y/n rolled her eyes. - Our stupid ancestor destroyed that poor girl's life.

-So, no Rhaegar as possible names for our future child? - He frowned, teasing her.

-No. Never. - Y/n replied smiling, until she opened the pizza box.

-Aemond I can't believe you ordered ham with pineapple pizza. - She pushed his shoulder, making him smile.

-It's delicious. - He shrugged as he reached into the box, taking a bite out of it.

-It's disgusting. - Y/n grimaced as she watched him eat a slice of pizza with the greatest amount of grace she had ever seen in a human being.

-Haven't you lost your childish taste yet? - He cocked his eyebrow ironically.

-First, I don't have a childish taste, this is just a matter of civility. - She pulled the pizza box back towards her. - And second, if that freak you dare call pizza has passed flavor to my cheese half, I will definitely kill you.

Aemond just smiled, rolled his eyes and pulled her by the shoulder closer to him while he selected any movie from the available menu.

The rest of the trip was short, since Kings Landing wasn't that far from the free cities, and the two took advantage of the time to just lie down together in one of the plane's seats while they talked and laughed. Aemond stroking Y/n's hair, and she clung to his chest as if he were going to disappear.

-Did you know that I always dreamed about that?- Aemond whispered against her ear and Y/n felt her chest heat up. - Since the day I started working in that room I dreamed of you sucking my dick like that.

-Really? - She rested her hands on his chest and raised her torso to look him in the eyes, and Aemond just murmured in agreement, nodding his head positively. - I left you a good memory then. - Y/n smiled smugly as she caressed his chest.

-You were horrible at this before. - He chuckled, rolling his eyes.

-You said I was great. - She hit his chest, now offended.

-Because I had never been sucked before in my life. But being able to compare your current self with your 15-year-old self, I can say that you were horrible.

-I should have bitten you. - She growled, hitting his chest. - I'll never suck your cock again in my life.

-We both know that's a lie. - He smiled ironically, grabbing her arm and pulling her in for a kiss.

-Am I good now? - She asked, resting on his shoulders and looking at him.

-So fucking good. - He murmured against her lips, still smiling mischievously, making her blush slightly and kiss him once more.

Y/n laughed and distributed kisses on his neck, chin, jaw and jaw, with Aemond pulling her closer and kissing her on the lips.

-We look like two rabbits in heat. - Aemond spoke between kisses and Y/n laughed, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.

-That's because we miss each other so much. - She kissed his jaw.

-We've been like this since we found out we could have sex. - He raised his eyebrow at Y/n and she just laughed, burying her head even deeper into his neck, making Aemond pull her by the jaw for another kiss.

-Did you touch yourself thinking about me? - He asked maliciously against her lips and Y/n nodded anxiously.

-Almost every night. But it was never enough, I missed your fingers, your cock so much. - She pointed out, leaving kisses on Aemond's marked jaw and sighing against his skin.

-Touch yourself for me. - He asked against her strands of hair, practically rubbing his own body against Y/n's. - Just like you did in the past, let me see you touch that cunt, and then I'll give you all the pleasure you want.

And Y/n did, just like when they were first figuring out how to pleasure each other as teenagers, she lay back against the couch and spread her legs before him, languidly touching herself as she cried out Aemond's name. And when she finally came against his fingers, whimpering for him, Aemond kissed her and made good on what he had said.

After spilling himself inside her for the third time that day, Aemond lay panting over Y/n's tired body, trailing soft kisses all over her collarbone. He had forgotten how good sex could be, not just any sex, sex with Y/n. It had been so hard to stop, and now he was addicted again, it was like he was 17 again and all he could think about was fucking her, being inside her, kissing her whole body.

In the years that had passed, he had never felt desire for any other woman, at most he had used his own hand to pleasure himself while looking at that damn polaroid of Y/n naked and smiling lazily between the sheets. But he felt no relief because what he really wanted was her, the warmth of her arms, the sweetness of her words whispered in his ear, the wonderful taste of her lips that drove him crazy. And now he had all of that back and he couldn't stop.

❦❦❦

In Kings Landing Mayane Dancil had barely closed the door after arriving home from a long day of work and her niece had already jumped on her telling her about what had happened in the store earlier while she told her about what she had seen in Aemond's apartment.

-Didn't you tell his mother? - Milla asked in shock.

-But of course not! - Her aunt answered promptly, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. - We don't meddle in the bosses' affairs Milla, you should know that by now.

-It's one thing to gossip among ourselves about what they do, it's another to let them know what we do. - The older woman was very serious as she said those words. - What do you think Aemond Targaryen would do to me if he found out that I was telling his mother what was going on inside his house?

-Most likely I would put you out on the street. - The girl answered somewhat embarrassed while looking at a potted plant as if it were very interesting.

-Worse than that, it would guarantee that I would never get a job again. - She sighed and looked at her niece. - Do you know why I work for both brothers?

The youngest just shook her head at the question.

-Mrs. Hightower helped me get the job because she wanted me to tell her everything her children do. - The woman spoke in a whisper, as if Alicent could hear her. - But I never told her anything significant because I'm not stupid enough to think that woman would protect me from the wrath of her children if they found out something like that.

-Never forget our position, Milla. - Her aunt's voice was serious, but softer as she tucked a strand of hair behind her niece's ear. - We can have fun gossiping about their lives, but we can't interfere in the games they play.

-You saw what happened to Joy today, she almost got fired for talking too much in front of Floris Baratheon. - The oldest caressed her niece's hair. - Don't make the same mistake she did.

Almost immediately after she finished speaking, the cell phone rang on the screen, the name flashing brightly.

Mrs. Hightower

Mayane shivered and signaled for her niece to be quiet as she answered the phone using the most polite voice she had.

-Good evening Mrs Hightower, is there any problem? - Mayane held her breath after speaking.

-Whether there was anything strange in your son’s apartment today? - She raised her eyebrows at her niece as she spoke to the woman on the phone. - Everything exactly as always, ma'am, Mr. Aemond is a very organized young man.

-Yes, I'm sure. - She shook her head without even realizing it while she was lying. - Good night ma'am.

When the call ended, the woman finally started breathing normally again.

❦❦❦

Alicent knew that the maid was lying, she knew that it was impossible that she had not seen anything, but she could not force her to tell the truth.

-What are we going to do, father? - Her eyes were closed as she faced Oto.

-Are you sure about what you are talking about, Alicent? - The older man walked around the room with a thoughtful look.

-If this is true, we will need to intervene as soon as possible. For his sake and mine, the elections are coming up and it will not be well received by the party if it comes to light that my grandson has been involved with a cousin. The opposition will descend on this like the vultures they are.

-I don't know what else to do to keep him away from her. - Alicent's eyes were bloodshot as she picked at her cuticles. - He doesn't listen to me, and Viserys won't do anything about it.

-We will appeal to Aemond's ambitious side. - Oto poured two fingers of whiskey into a glass as he paced the room with calculated movements. - Remember what I told you at the last party meeting? It's still in his favor. If Aemond wants to take advantage of this opportunity, he'll have to distance himself from her.

-And if that doesn't work? - Alicent squeaked, looking at her father in exasperation.

-Then we'll go down the path of his loyalty to the family. - Oto smiled reassuringly at Alicent. - She may even have some power over him, but Aemond would never do anything that would harm my campaign or the name of the entire family.

❦❦❦

Y/n and Aemond fixed their disheveled appearance before exiting the jet, both with satisfied smiles on their faces as they walked down the stairs on the Lys runway. She decided to leave her hair loose, which now fell wildly down her back, much to Aemond's delight, who loved to see it loose.

As soon as they entered Lys Airport, they were guided to a counter where they were supposed to leave any electronics that could record images. Aemond had already left his cell phone and other belongings in the trunk of the car, and Y/n's cell phone had been forgotten in the hotel room for two days. After that, they went through the X-ray and were allowed to enter the country without any major problems.

-What hotel are we staying in? - Y/n asked after getting into the black car that was waiting for them at the exit of the airport at Aemond's request.

-Aegon said he came here once and stayed at the Lotus Flower, but I don't know if it's reliable considering the source. - Aemond said laughing and sitting very close to Y/n in the back seat while the driver remained silent until he was told to drive to the main streets, where the two got off at a busy square with a beautiful water fountain in the center and started walking.

The night in Lys was beautiful, Friday night and everyone was in the streets partying even though it was quite late. There were bars and restaurants packed with people having fun, and Y/n and Aemond just walked with their arms around each other smiling on the sidewalk and watching everything. People didn't have cell phones, cameras, or Internet in that part of the island, they were just themselves. They were just dancing, shouting, being silly, not caring that the next day all of this would be ruining their lives online.

Minutes later the two spotted a bar that was playing fun music and they both decided to go in to have a drink together before finding a hotel. The two drank about three drinks and the conversation that was already flowing naturally between them became increasingly excited as they talked a little more loudly and exchanged kisses, feeling loosened by the alcohol.

Aemond felt free. There was no one watching him, no one waiting for a slip to judge him, he was so mixed in among the people that no one gave a damn about who he could be. In Westeros, anyone who laid eyes on him would know he was a Targaryen by his hair, but in Lys… he was just another silver-haired guy, just like the bartender and half of the male population of the island. And taken by this thought and the extra confidence of the alcohol, he pulled Y/n by the hand to the dance floor.

Y/n didn't even blink, just threw her head back laughing as she went with him towards the dance floor.

-I hate this song. - She whispered in his ear while biting his ear.

-Yeah, but you're going to dance with me anyway. - Aemond pulled her firmly by the hip.

-Why? - She questioned him with her eyes shining.

-Because I'm asking. - He murmured against her lips.

-Egocentric. - Y/n sighed, kissing him on the lips once more.

The two then pressed their bodies together, smiling as they danced to the lively melody, slightly drunk on alcohol and joy, spinning and jumping around the dance floor amidst other couples without anyone stopping to look at them as if they were a tourist attraction.

The hours passed without them noticing, and both of their feet ached from exhaustion.

-Want to go find a hotel? - Aemond spoke in a slightly louder voice to stand out over the loud music after a few dances and a few more drinks later.

Y/n just nodded, laying her head on his shoulder, completely exhausted after the long day. The older man guided her by the waist to the exit to get to the car once again.

-Take us to a good hotel. - Aemond asked the driver while Y/n lay against his shoulder and closed her eyes, her hair falling in front of her face with the action.

It didn't take them even five minutes to arrive at a beautiful hotel facing the sea with a beautiful flower garden around it. And Aemond smiled softly when he noticed that Y/n had fallen asleep on the short car ride, and without thinking much he just picked her up in his arms and carried her into the hotel with ease while the youngest just snuggled in his arms.

-Only the honeymoon suite is vacant, sir. - The receptionist said after checking the system.

-Excellent. We will keep it. - He smiled slightly drunk, taking the key card between his fingers without letting go of Y/n who was still sleeping snuggled in his arms and heading towards the elevator.

When he got to the room he gently placed her on the bed with soft sheets and took off her sandals and clothes, smiling sideways as he admired her naked body. Aemond opened the door of one of the closets and took out a light pink silk nightgown and carefully put it on her, then laid her on the bed once more, leaving a loving kiss on Y/n's forehead.

Then he, equally tired, took off his own clothes, getting naked and lying down next to her, pulling her towards him and hugging her from behind, snuggling, putting his head in the gap of her neck and falling into a deep sleep soon after, completely relaxed as he was holding onto Y/n.

❦❦❦

Without a single worry in mind, the two slept almost halfway through the day, tightly holding onto each other while forgetting that there was a world outside.

Aemond, as almost always happened, woke up before Y/n and with a side smile he distributed kisses on her exposed neck, who just groaned and buried her face in the pillows.

-We need to get up if we don't want to waste the day. - He whispered in her ear, pulling her towards him while Y/n buried her face in his bare chest.

-Your feet are cold, Aem. - She grumbled as she snuggled even closer to him.

-Mnmm. - He just murmured and nodded, stroking her unruly hair.

-Give me ten more minutes and I swear I'll be ready to get up. - She begged against his neck with her voice hoarse from sleep, and Aemond, after a smile, got up, leaving a kiss on her back and heading towards the large bathroom.

Without Y/n with him, the shower was slightly quick, and when he came out with the towel wrapped around his waist, he noticed that neither he nor Y/n had any clothes for the day, since they hadn't even bothered about it when they left the day before. And with a sigh, he put on the hotel's fluffy robe and called the reception to request clothes from the hotel store in his and Y/n's sizes.

Almost immediately after Aemond hung up the intercom, Y/n stood up lazily and left a kiss on his jaw as she headed towards the bathroom to take a shower and start the day.

Aemond was sitting in an armchair, smiling as he heard Y/n hum softly during her shower, and he almost didn't notice the soft knocks on the bedroom door indicating the arrival of the clothes he had ordered.

After the second knock, he got up to open the door and receive the two orange bags with the hotel's crest engraved on them. And as soon as he closed the door and looked at the contents of the bags, he knew he was in trouble.

❦❦❦

-I won't use this even if I die. - Y/n said, wrapped in a towel, holding it tightly against her chest as she shook her head in disbelief at the sight of the clothes.

-Why not? - Aemond asked, holding the white shirt in one hand and the orange pants in the other. He knew the answer, but they were still the only clothes he had gotten.

-Because it's ridiculous! I'd rather go out naked than wear this, Aemond! - She frowned slightly, laughing at the clothes that were on the bed.

-It's not an option, dear. - He said, furrowing his eyebrows with a roguish smile and pulling her towards him by the waist.

-You can't make me wear those clothes. - She rolled her eyes, putting one hand on his shoulder while holding the towel against her chest with the other.

-No one will see you wearing this. - He chuckled against her hair. - I assure you, I'm not much happier with this than you are, Your Highness, but we don't have much of a choice.

-Aem… - She looked him in the eyes, pouting, and Aemond just bit her lip and pulled it.

-Let's go to a store after here and we can both choose something. - He smiled against her lips, squeezing her tightly around the waist. - If you're good, I can even let you choose my clothes.

– Do you swear? - She raised her left eyebrow, staring at him.

-I swear. - He murmured against the shell of her ear, making her feel goosebumps.

-Then let's get on with it, because if you stay this close to me, we won't be leaving this room any time soon today. - She smiled, pushing him away from her while pulling the clothes off the bed.

As soon as she put on her clothes and turned towards the mirror, Y/n burst out laughing and Aemond couldn't help but laugh softly along with her when he saw himself in the mirror's reflection. Both dressed identically, wearing white cotton shirts and bright orange plain baggy pants.

-We look like two inmates, Aemond. - Y/n writhed with laughter, looking at herself and him. - Didn't they even have shorts?

-They were missing. - Aemond scratched his head as he smiled and admired Y/n so smiling, wearing the ugly hotel clothes and with her hair still damp from the recent shower. - Let's go down or we won't enjoy the day at all.

-I look even worse than you wearing the necklace. - Y/n said as Aemond grabbed the wallet from the sideboard, then pulled it towards him and they both walked out the door still laughing.

-I already know! - Y/n exclaimed, stopping walking and staring at Aemond with wide eyes. - We were arrested because we stole the necklace! - She laughed, throwing her head back and laughing at her own joke, making the older man laugh too, but more restrainedly than Y/n, while holding her close to him.

Upon arriving at the reception, Aemond, now sober, rented a car to they could easily get around the island, a beautiful moss green convertible with retro-looking leather seats. And Y/n couldn't help but tease him about the fact that he was renting a completely classic car on a tropical island, making him smile sideways as he started the car.

-Ok, you can choose the store. - The eldest murmured, gently squeezing Y/n's knee, driving along one of the island's main streets with a smile while her silver hair flew in the gentle wind breeze.

-Gimme a moment. - She smiled, carefully analyzing the stores through the window. The brands were very different in Lys and she didn't know many, only the most famous Love & Grace, but she didn't see it there. And with a smile she asked Aemond to park after seeing a dozen beautiful dresses and other summer clothes in a simple display case.

-You better get ready to keep your promise because today you're going to be my personal model. - She practically bounced when she got out of the car, even briefly forgetting about the ridiculous clothes from the Hotel.

For a moment, as he got out of the car, Aemond looked around, afraid that someone would see them together acting so passionately, or that someone would see him wearing those clothes. But then he remembered where he was and smiled at Y/n, taking her hand in his to cross the street together.

-I told you I could choose an outfit. - He protested and pulled her closer to him, putting his arm around her back and holding her by the waist as they crossed the street.

-I’m pretty sure I heard clothes in the plural. - Y/n hummed. - And don't even try to fool me, Aemond Targaryen, I know you too well for that.

Aemond just smiled and placed a kiss on her hair. As soon as the door opened and they both entered, the store attendant chuckled and looked away slightly when she saw the two, and Y/n just looked at Aemond and curved her eyebrow as if to say "I told you so!" and the older one, in return, just pouted and shrugged in an almost audible gesture of "What can I do?".

And letting go of Aemond, Y/n went towards the smiling attendant who immediately tried to be serious.

-Good morning, I would like to try on the dresses that are on display in your window. - Y/n said, smiling friendly as she leaned over the counter. And the young woman, without looking her in the eyes, nodded positively, already heading towards the window to see what the pieces were, tripping on the way and regaining her balance while holding on to the counter.

-It's okay to laugh. - Y/n smiled again towards the attendant when she noticed the girl's nervousness. - We know we look ridiculous. - She made a face, pointing at her own clothes in a relaxed manner, and the girl smiled a little as she asked Y/n's size.

-What's your name? - Y/n asked as she looked at some clothes and Aemond had to hold back a smile, she hadn't lost her chatty manner.

-Arlie, miss.

-It's a very pretty name if you want to know. - She smiled at the girl as she pulled out two shirts that Aemond strongly suspected were for him.

-Ahem, let's go to the fitting room. - She pulled him by the hand, confirming his suspicions. - Try these on and I'll bring you some more.

The relief Aemond felt when he took his clothes out of the hotel was fleeting when he put on the shirts Y/n gave him.

-I brought black shorts out of respect for your goth side. - She said as she hung the shorts on the dressing room door and waited for him to come out already dressed.

-Speaking of which and paraphrasing you earlier today. - He paused dramatically and opened the dressing room door, coming out with the black shorts and bright yellow shirt. - I'm not wearing that shirt even if I'm dead.

He looked at her very seriously and Y/n burst out laughing at the same time, holding on to the door frame of the dressing room as she looked at him, making Aemond raise his eyebrows.

-I didn't expect you to use it. - She looked at him, still smiling. - That was just personal revenge for making me wear that. - She said pointing to her own clothes, and the older man, rolling his eyes, ripped the shirt off his head and threw it over her, making her laugh even more.

-I'm going to regret letting you do that…

-Okay, okay. - Y/n interrupted him with pleading eyes. - I'll be good now, I promise. - And when she kissed his fingers as she said that, Aemond felt like a string was pulling at his heart, and shaking his head negatively, he brought his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her in for a sweet, soft kiss before returning to the dressing room, leaving Y/n standing there smiling and looking at the door.

-I'll be much nicer now. - She spoke loudly, returning to the store's hall, making the older man smile to himself inside the fitting room as he waited for more clothes.

About forty minutes later, Y/n had already chosen clothes for herself and was just watching Aemond try on his with a look that mixed between pure love, desire and genuine happiness as he changed looked at the pieces with that serious and firm look directed at her, smiling every now and then as they talked.

-You're lucky we don't have much time to waste. - Y/n bit her lower lip as she admired him wearing the looks she put together, already dressed in a beautiful flowing lilac dress and wearing a green bikini underneath. - Or we would stay here forever.

-We already have more than enough for today and tomorrow. - He pulled her by the hips close to him. - Are you satisfied?

-For now. - She gave him a quick peck on the lips and pulled him by the hand towards the cashier, while Arlie passed the clothes. Y/n smiled when she saw a pair of black sunglasses that she knew would look perfect on Aemond. And still smiling, she turned him towards her with her fingertips and placed the glasses on his face, sighing at the result, making Aemond roll his eyes.

-I think it's fair that I at least choose your sunglasses. - He murmured, smiling sideways and Y/n agreed, narrowing her eyes.

-No funny business, sir.

Aemond rolled his eyes, choosing a nice pair of glasses that matched his own and placing them on Y/n's face.

-Excellent taste. - She smiled as she looked at herself in the mirror and Aemond just shrugged with a slightly shy smile as he paid the bill, making her smile even more.

-Bye Arlie, I hope you have a good day of sales. - Y/n waved to the attendant as the two left the store with their various shopping bags.

As she put the bags she was carrying in the trunk of the car, Y/n raised her eyebrows slightly when she noticed that Aemond had put their ugly hotel clothes in a bag from the store, but she ended up not asking him anything when she felt a soft kiss on the back of her neck as he closed the trunk and guided her by the waist towards the passenger seat.

-Where to now? - He smiled, squeezing her thigh as he maneuvered the car.

-I saw a lovely restaurant in front of the beach a few meters back. - She smiled, looking at him. - We can eat and then stay at the beach.

-Sounds really good to me. - Aemond then looked away at Y/n's body and smiled slightly. -This dress looks like the one you wore to my graduation.

-Do you remember? - She looked down analyzing her own clothes with a stupid smile on her lips.

-How could I forget, you were so suspenseful about this that it seemed like it was already our wedding day. - Aemond rolled his eyes with a smile. - And then there you were, more beautiful than any of the graduates sitting in the front rows, waving at me and smiling. I felt like it was more worth being there to admire you than for anything else.

Y/n's heart melted as she heard Aemond describe the way he remembered her that night. And with a smile she placed her own hand over his hand that was on her thigh while he drove and squeezed it gently in affection.

It didn't take them five whole minutes to get to the restaurant, and it really was lovely. With a beautiful bouquet of purple Bougainvillea climbing up the columns and tiles of the porch, making the place cozy and colorful, and several wicker tables and chairs spread across the polished wooden floor.

Aemond pulled out a yellow wicker chair for Y/n to sit on and after she did so he placed a kiss on her hair as he pulled out a chair for himself, sitting next to her and already picking up one of the menus on the table and analyzing it.

They both ordered salmon, but Y/n opted for a Mediterranean salad without onions while Aemond chose something with more green leaves. The lunch was light and peaceful with the two laughing and talking as they shared food from each other's plates even though they had ordered almost the same thing.

And after paying the bill, the two finally went towards the beach, which was empty in that part, but there were still some people talking or sitting in the kiosks, far from the privacy they both wanted.

-We can go to a more secluded place. - Aemond suggested. - We'll take a snack and have a picnic later.

Y/n's eyes lit up at the suggestion and she nodded, pulling Aemond by the hand towards a wooden kiosk covered with straw.

Aemond bought a wicker basket while Y/n chose some things they could take to eat, and in the end she ended up with fruit juices, two sandwiches, a bowl with a mix of strawberries and cherries and some crab cakes.

-Apparently they don't sell lemon cake in beach kiosks. - Y/n rolled her eyes as she put everything in the basket under the watchful eye of Aemond, who just smiled sideways at her.

The two walked and talked for what seemed like hours, until they reached a completely empty and quiet beach. Only the sound of the waves and their voices interrupted there, and with a smile Y/n spread the aqua green linen blanket that Aemond had recently bought on the sand for them both to sit on.

-Gods i missed this so much. - Y/n smiled as she felt the cool sea breeze against her face.

-You just stayed in the conservatory all the time? - He bowed his forehead. - Not allowed to go out?

-We had guided "tours" into town once every two months.

-But? From your tone I know there's a but.

-I was banned because the first time I tried to call you from a pay phone. - She huffed, feeling tears in her eyes as she remembered that horrible day.

-It's okay. - Aemond murmured against her hair after gently pulling her towards him. - We're together now, you're safe and with me.

-No one will separate us anymore. - He stated with certainty, looking into her eyes. - Do you understand me, Y/n?

She nodded, wiping away a tear and smiling at Aemond, giving her a hug.

-Want to talk about this? - He murmured against her hair as he stroked her back with his fingertips.

Y/n just shook her head slowly and then looked him in the eyes.

-I just want to be happy to be here now. - She smiled at the eldest and left a sweet kiss on his angular chin.

❦❦❦

The sunlight shone on Y/n's skin and Aemond enjoyed it as he ran his fingers gently over it. He could notice more clearly every little change in that body he loved so much. Some small light stretch marks that were not there before now went down her breasts and lodged below the fabric of her bikini and Aemond wished to see her naked under the sun so he could see them completely clearly.

And satisfying that desire, he untied the knot of the bikini top, pulling it down and he could see her breasts under the golden sun of Lys. Y/n didn't object, she just stood there with her eyes closed, feeling the touch of his fingers and enjoying the warmth of his gaze.

Aemond gently traced his fingers along the white lines that had appeared there due to the growth. The touch was not malicious, but rather adoration. Y/n's nipples gradually rose with his gentle touch and noticing this, the older smiled and placed a sweet kiss on her left breast, making her shudder.

And with a bigger smile he distributed kisses over her left breast, being meticulous in each small new mark that had appeared. And when he finished he gently sucked her nipple making her bite her lips and gasp his name.

-I'm taking care of you. - He answered simply as he moved to the other breast and did the exact same thing, making Y/n sigh, and when he finished and sucked her right nipple Y/n opened her eyes and pulled him into a slow and passionate kiss that in both of their minds seemed to last hours.

-When we're done I'll have recounted each of your freckles in case a new one has appeared out of my sight. - He promised, trailing kisses down her neck while Y/n tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him closer and closer until they were both hugging each other, Y/n's bare breasts pressed against Aemond's bare chest.

When the two finally let go of each other, Y/n stood up under Aemond's confused gaze, who frowned. And with a mischievous smile, Y/n removed the bottom of her bikini under Aemond's watchful eye. And still laughing, she turned and began walking towards the sea, completely naked.

-Y/n! - Aemond shouted her name, who just laughed, looking at him over her shoulder. - Seven hells. - He grumbled, mesmerized by the sight of her walking naked along the deserted beach under the sun.

-Come with me, Aem. - She called him with that melodious voice while making the come here gesture with her index finger, already entering the water and getting lost in the waves.

Seeing her there, naked in the middle of the sea waves, Aemond suspected that perhaps his cousin was a mermaid, or one of those mythical sea creatures he had read about, that bewitched weak-hearted idiot men. The way he couldn't contain himself in her presence couldn't be normal, there had to be something wrong with it. And with that thought, he took off his own shorts and went towards the sea where Y/n was waiting for him with only her eyes out of the water, and just by looking into her eyes, Aemond knew that she was smiling mischievously at him.

As soon as he approached, she entwined herself around his body like a vine, pulling him close and kissing him slowly.

-I think that in at least one place in the world what you do to me should be considered a crime. - Aemond murmured against her neck salted by seawater.

-Maybe, but I don't care as long as I have you. - She sighed, looking into his eyes and Aemond smiled, pulling her in for another kiss.

-How could you have spent 5 years confined in a conservatory and still be like this? - The eldest bit her lower lip, pulling it slightly.

-Have you ever heard the theory that repression is the best way to create rebellion?

-Good theory. - He kissed her again with even more passion.

-My mother would be so pissed if my ass appeared on the cover of a newspaper. - Aemond said, squinting after thinking for a few moments, making Y/n laugh.

-That's already happened to Aegon, twice, and he's still alive. - She laughed, hanging around his neck. - She'd probably kill you for your naked ass being next to my naked ass.

-Mmmm. - He just muttered under his breath while laughing and Y/n, taking advantage of the distraction, splashed water on him while laughing.

And as if they were children again, the two screamed and splashed water on each other, smiling and laughing amidst kisses and laughter. When they were both shivering from the cold, they got out of the water, still kissing, lightly biting each other's lips.

-You're the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. - Aemond tucked a lock of hair behind Y/n's ear, speaking in a low, soft voice, making her blush, and then he kissed her deeply once more.

And with her body still wet from the salty sea water, Aemond laid her down on the blanket on the sand and took her under the golden sunset of Lys, loving every part of her body with passionate kisses and sweet caresses while the last rays of the day's sun bathed their naked bodies.

-You're so beautiful.- Y/n sighed, looking at him with bright eyes and her head lying on Aemond's bare chest and her legs entwined between his, both comfortable under the starry sky while the only audible sound was that of the crickets. - The most beautiful man I've ever seen.

-Considering the last few years, I don't think there were many to compare it to. - Aemond joked, slightly laughing and Y/n rolled her eyes with a huff.

-You're the most beautiful Aemond Targaryen, just deal with it. - She lifted her head and her torso, looking into his eyes, speaking seriously, making him let out a nasal laugh and pulling her to lie back on his chest.

-I'm happy to be here with you. - He stroked her hair lovingly while admiring the stars. - It's like I feel alive again after years of living under anesthesia.

-It's funny you say that because I feel the same way. - She caressed his chest with her fingertips.

-Sometimes I don't know who I am anymore. I spent so much time pretending that I think I forgot, but when I'm with you I feel like I'm me again. Just me, without having to try hard for it, without having to think or pretend. - Y/n pressed her eyes tightly as she said this, and Aemond remembered what she had said the day before about pretending to avoid being punished and with that thought he hugged her tightly.

-No need to pretend. Not with me, I will always love you and accept you exactly the way you are. - He smiled softly, looking into her eyes. - Every characteristic of yours makes you my Y/n, and I would never change anything.

Y/n laughed, feeling tears in her eyes.

-Not even my total dislike for reading and dramatic movies? - Her voice was choked as she teased him.

-Maybe the books part. - He tightened his grip on her waist, making her laugh out loud and shrink against him, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

-I'm hungry. - She murmured against his skin.

-I think we'll have a picnic under the stars then. - He chuckled, pulling the wicker basket closer.

❦❦❦

Y/n and Aemond returned to the hotel for a quick shower and a change of clothes since night had fallen and the youngest was anxious for them to go to the famous luau on the main beach. The two of them put on light-colored clothes and decided to walk since the beach where the luau was taking place was just a few meters from the hotel.

The beach was lit only by fire torches and moonlight while several people laughed, ate and danced to the soft music that was played on a guitar. Some women were weaving flowery necklaces and there were food and drink stalls. Y/n let go of his hand so she could walk around and observe things more closely.

When she returned smiling moments later, she was carrying a shell necklace that she had received from a stranger, and before Aemond could say anything, she put it around his neck with a radiant smile.

-It looks beautiful on you, Aem.

He just smiled and pulled her by the waist, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. The two of them bought a new blanket and spread it on the sand to sit and watch the stars and the sea while enjoying the music, sharing drinks and eating some food that was being served.

The youngest smiled, sipping a fruit drink and humming the same melody that was played on the guitar. And watching Y/n sway gently to the slow rhythm of the music, Aemond took the last sip of his own drink before getting up from the blanket and pulling Y/n to stand as well.

-Would you grant me the honor of this dance, My Lady? - His voice was gallant as he bowed, making Y/n laugh and throw her head back.

-Of course, my good sir. - She bowed with a wide smile as she joined Aemond.

The two danced barefoot on the sand of the beach under the silver moonlight, with satisfied smiles on their faces. Aemond pulled her closer and closer, while his hands grabbed her waist and hips firmly.

-I'm sure that wasn't how our ancestors danced. - She laughed against his neck when she felt a firmer grip on her hip.

-These are modern times, we can adapt some things. - He shrugged, leaving a gentle kiss on her neck and she snuggled even closer to him.

-You know, that dress looked breathtaking on you too. - The compliment flowed easily on Aemond's tongue as the two danced slowly, holding on to each other.

-Truth? - Normally Y/n didn't depend on compliments from others, especially when it came to clothes, but when they came from Aemond it was different.

-Yeah. - He assured, leaving more kisses on her neck and ears. - You're by far the most beautiful of all the people present.

-I can't even blame those assholes for drooling over you when you look so good. - He whispered in her ear and Y/n looked back to see two boys watching them, she just rolled her eyes and laid her head on Aemond's chest.

-They are idiots not for looking, but for thinking that maybe they could have a chance. - She looked at him from under her eyelashes and Aemond smiled, leaving a kiss on her forehead.

Suddenly Y/n felt the skirt of her dress being pulled and when she looked down she found a beautiful little girl with blond hair looking at her shyly.

-Hello dear, what's wrong? - Y/n crouched down looking into her eyes. - Are you lost?

The girl shook her head, her cheeks flushed as she smiled shyly.

-I need to choose someone to participate in the dance contest. - The girl smiled at Y/n.

-And you chose me?

- Only if you want to. - She smiled sweetly while looking at her feet.

-Of course I want to, it will be an honor. - Y/n smiled sweetly at her.

The girl's eyes lit up at the same moment and she offered her hand to Y/n who held it and then gave Aemond a smiling look before following the little girl.

Aemond walked towards the circle in the sand where the torches were positioned to illuminate the girls who were already positioned and with his heart pounding he watched his Y/n enter the circle with that charming smile that made anyone love her, and he knew even before the song started that she would be the winner.

And when the music finally started and everyone started dancing, she looked exclusively at Aemond as if she was dancing only for him, smiling and moving her hips and arms to the rhythm of the music.

As the competition progressed the music became more agitated and more lively and only Y/n and two other women were left. And when only she and a red-haired woman with green eyes were left, the man returned to the stage and asked the audience to decide which one had been better.

As soon as the man extended his hand to Y/n, Aemond applauded loudly along with several other people, and when she was declared the winner, the same little girl who had chosen her was called to place a crown of purple flowers on Y/n's head, who, after being crowned, picked the little girl up with a wide smile on her lips.

Aemond's heart warmed at that sight, and he remembered the dream he had once had as a teenager where he saw Y/n with a silver-haired girl in her arms, but in his dreams that girl was his daughter.

After letting go of the girl, Y/n ran towards Aemond, laughing and throwing herself into his arms as lightning flashed across the night sky followed by thunder.

-Seeing you with that flower crown makes me think that if we had been born centuries ago I would have fought in every tournament just to crown you queen of love and beauty. - He brushed his nose against hers, feeling a light drop of rain drip on his cheek.

-I don't know why I can't imagine you participating in tournaments. - She looked at him smiling from under her eyelashes, hanging from his neck.

-Maybe our lives would be easier if we had been born during the conquest period. - He murmured against her lips.

-Maybe. - She smiled slightly sadly, leaving a sweet kiss on the corner of Aemond's lip.

Little by little the two of them moved away from where the people were gathered, dancing alone in the dark even though they could no longer hear the sound of the music, only the sound of each other's heartbeats.

And slowly the fine drops of rain began to fall thicker and the two laughed with joy, spinning around the beach with the sand stuck to their feet as they felt the fresh, cold water running through their skin. Aemond grabbed her by the waist and spun her in the air, making Y/n throw her head back as she laughed with a bright smile on her face.

And at that moment bathing in the rain with Y/n on the beach under the moonlight, he didn't need to think much to know that he had smiled more in the last five days than in the last five years.

❦❦❦

The next morning, the two woke up shortly after sunrise, determined to make the most of the day before returning to Kings Landing. Their hair was still slightly damp from the night before, after they both ran back to the hotel in a heavy rain during the night, jumping into puddles of water formed on the cobblestones of the streets of Lys and exchanging passionate kisses.

The two said they would not stay in bed that morning, they would go straight to the shower, but after calling the reception and requesting breakfast, Aemond lay down again behind Y/n, rubbing himself sleepily against her thighs, which inevitably led to a round of lazy morning sex while they waited for coffee.

Y/n was still lying there panting and Aemond reluctantly pulled out of her, because as much as he liked to stay in contact with her after climax, there was something else he also liked. And positioning himself between her open legs, he watched with an adoring look as his seed dripped from her intimacy.

-Damn how I missed that. - He sighed in delight as he just admired between her legs. Little by little, he took his own seed with his fingertips and placed it back inside Y/n, only to see it drip from inside her once more as she panted.

After that, he kissed her belly and slowly moved up, making her sigh. He passed through the valley between her breasts, through her neck, until he reached her lips. He placed a gentle, smiling kiss there.

-I want to stay like this forever. Stuck with you. - Aemond laid his head on her chest, listening to the still agitated beating of that heart that proudly belonged to him. - Whenever I'm with you, I can't help but feel at peace with the world. It's like nothing can touch me or knock me down, like I suddenly became the strongest being on this earth.

Y/n stroked the older man's silky silver hair as she felt her heart race with each of his declarations, feeling loved and cherished with each word he uttered.

The two were interrupted by the knock of the maid who brought the breakfast requested by Aemond. Contrary to what was expected, the day had dawned very sunny, and after the rain the waves of the sea were visibly bigger.

And with a smile and many kisses spread across his face and neck, Y/n convinced Aemond to surf just like they had done on a trip to Driftmark when they were already teenagers, and he kept up the habit when they returned to Kings Landing. The oldest rented a board from a kiosk on the beach and the two went hand in hand towards the sea, this time staying in the main part as they didn't want to go too far from the hotel and the main streets.

-I haven't done that in years. - Aemond spoke in a voice a few tones higher to stand out over the loud sound of the waves breaking as he lay face down looking out to sea.

-Honestly, I think if you fell, I would laugh. - Y/n ran her hands through her wet hair, putting it back as she leaned on the surfboard and stared at Aemond.

-Would you at least help me get on the board again? - He raised his eyebrows laughing since the idea of ​​surfing had been hers.

-Probably! - Y/n left a quick kiss on his lips.

Y/n slowly moved away while Aemond went to the deeper side waiting for a wave. And when a particularly big one formed, he swam out quickly and managed to stand on the board while Y/n laughed, screamed and applauded. After leaving the tube, he jumped into the sea, submerging for a few moments before returning to the surface laughing and hitting the water with his fist.

-It was amazing! - Y/n shouted as she swam towards him, still smiling.

-Like riding a bike. - Aemond shrugged and Y/n rolled her eyes, pushing his forehead back with the palm of her hand.

-Always egocentric.

-Mmmm. - He pulled her close to him by the waist. - I can't avoid it. And now it's your turn, My Lady.

-No. - Y/n widened her eyes when she heard him say that, putting her hands on his chest and trying to push him away without success. - No, no, no.

-Just one. - He laughed, holding her against his chest as she struggled. - A small one.

-I never managed to learn how to surf like you and the others. - She rolled her eyes at the memory. - Did you forget? I was terrible, I fell off the board every time, even Uncle Corlys said I was a lost cause that time.

-Not for me. - He immediately denied it with a smile and a chaste kiss on her temple. - You're going to catch a wave today even if we have to stay here all day.

-I hate you. - Y/n looked at him sulkily while grimacing.

-I know that. - The oldest smiled and left a sweet kiss on her neck, already removing the board from his own ankle and passing it to Y/n's.

-If I drown, it will be your fault, Aemond Targaryen. - She grumbled as he helped her onto the board.

-I find it hard, you surf terribly but you swim very well.

Y/n just showed him the middle finger after hearing that and then grabbed the board again.

It took about two hours of instruction from Aemond, Y/n fell off the board every ten minutes. He laughed and she hit his chest with the palm of her hand and threatened to take the board off her ankle. When the sun was already stronger in the sky, she finally managed to stand on the board and with an exuberant smile on her face she surfed a wave for the first time, a small one, but a wave. The love and pride were visible in Aemond's eyes as he smiled and applauded the youngest.

-Fuck you Corlys Velaryon. - She screamed in ecstasy as she threw herself on Aemond, hanging onto his neck while laughing. - I did it, I did it. Did you see that, Aem?

-I told you I could do it. - He left a kiss on her salty lips and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

-Thank you. - Y/n gently brushed her nose against his affectionately as she smiled and looked at him from under her eyelashes.

In the middle of the conversation, the two didn't even notice that the board had come loose from Y/n's ankle and was speeding away into the sea. And with a very serious look, Aemond apologized to the kiosk owner, paying him some gold coins for the lost board while Y/n watched everything with her hands behind her back, biting her lips.

The two chose to go back to the hotel for a shower and after that, they had lunch at the same restaurant as the day before, since Aemond had liked the food and he was very picky about it. Y/n didn't even try, she just liked the fact that the restaurant was covered in beautiful purple flowers.

Lunch was full of conversation and laughter as the two remembered silly things and shared their order with each other as they liked to do, drinking a delicious wine produced right there on the island that Aemond assured Y/n that he would take at least two bottles back with them to Kings Landing.

-Damn, I forgot my wallet at the desk. - Aemond rolled his eyes after putting on his sunglasses, realizing he was missing his wallet as soon as they reached the restaurant's sidewalk, letting go of Y/n's hand and going back inside. - Wait a minute, I'll get it.

-Do you want to know your future child? - A hoarse and cold voice asked as soon as Aemond entered the restaurant, making the hairs on the back of Y/n's neck stand on end. When she turned around, she came face to face with an old woman with extremely white hair and violet eyes wearing completely black clothes that were very closed for such a hot day.

-No, thank you very much. - She smiled, taking a step away from the old woman who had approached. - I don't believe in these things.

-Your pain and suffering will suffocate you until there's nothing left if you don't let them out. - The strange-looking old woman grabbed her hand, looking deeply into her eyes, and Y/n felt her stomach turn with anxiety. - If your soul only pretends to forgive, without actually embracing its essence, your destiny will be covered in bitterness and will take away from you the one you love most.

-I didn't ask to know my future! - Y/n hissed very harshly, pulling her hand towards herself and letting go of the old woman with an angry look while Aemond, who had returned, frowned since it wasn't common to see her treating anyone that way.

-Let's get out of here. - She pulled Aemond by the hand as soon as she saw him practically dragging her towards the car.

-What happened back there? - He started the car while Y/n looked out the window without looking at him.

-I don't want to talk about it. - That was all she said, still without looking at him, and Aemond didn't want to pressure her about it, but he suddenly felt like he was invading her personal space, something he had never felt before and he didn't like that feeling.

The heavy mood that had set in after meeting the elderly woman gradually dissipated as they admired the beautiful landscape of Lys with the wind blowing through their hair, since the convertible top was open.

-We'll have to moisturize our hair when we get back or we'll end up looking like corn on the cob. - Y/n laughed, looking at herself in the car mirror while Aemond smiled sideways and squeezed her knee.

-Where are we? - She frowned when Aemond stopped the car at what looked like the entrance to a park.

-Earlier, the owner of the hotel told me that if we come that side we could see the fountain of the goddess of love. It is she who is on the coins. - He took one of the coins from the pocket of his black linen pants and handed it to Y/n, who finally paid attention to the local coin. It was oval and golden with the design of a beautiful naked woman with long hair and who looked like a mermaid in the center.

-She is beautiful. - Y/n smiled, taking the coin from Aemond's hand and holding it between her fingers with a smile.

The two walked through the lush gardens with enchanted looks, Y/n for admiring the garden and Aemond for admiring Y/n who was wearing a beautiful off-white dress that flowed down to her feet with a slightly transparent skirt that gave her an almost ethereal appearance in the afternoon sunlight. Seeing her walking and smiling amidst all those flowers was what Aemond thought was the closest he would ever get to seeing an angel.

-I've never seen such beautiful hydrangeas in my life, Aem. - She leaned in to smell the scent of the flowers, closing her eyes with an expression of delight on her face. - I'm sure Helaena would love to see this.

-Where is Hel living? - She smiled excitedly as she remembered her older cousin. - I need to go see her as soon as we get back.

-Near the exit to Rosby, facing Blackwater Bay. - Aemond also smiled as he remembered his sister. - She spends almost all her time at the beach.

-She's living alone?

-She adopted a huge dog named Dreamfyre. She was at an adoption fair in Driftmark on a trip Hel took to support an environmental project of Rhaenys. - Aemond shrugged.

-She must be beautiful.

-She drools all over everything, barks non-stop and ate half of Helaena's furniture. - Aemond rolled his eyes.

-That doesn't make her any less beautiful. - Y/n curled her mouth downwards and raised her eyebrows, making Aemond roll his eyes again as he pulled her closer to him by the hip.

After about ten minutes of walking through the beautiful park full of beautiful flowers and a huge number of fruit and ornamental trees, the two arrived at the center where there were a few people sitting on benches admiring the beautiful fountain.

It was all white with a statue of the goddess of love in the center, who now looked even more like a mermaid, but in this version she was holding a clay vase from which crystal clear water fell softly in calm noises.

-The natives say she grants love requests. - Aemond whispered into Y/n's ear.

And with a smile of satisfaction, love and hope on her face, Y/n closed her eyes and threw the coin that Aemond had given her earlier, and which had been pressed firmly in her hands until that moment.

-What did you ask for?

-So that I could be yours and you mine in this life and in all those to come. - She crossed her arms against his neck, joining her forehead with Aemond's.

-You wasted a wish asking for something that is already real. - He kissed her chastely on the lips, smiling when he felt that sweetness he loved so much.

❦❦❦

As dusk approached, Y/n and Aemond walked smiling and holding each other down the main street, trying out food and talking. Y/n had already bought three handmade dresses that she found in smaller stores while they were walking, and a beautiful dark blue shirt for Aemond.

As the sun was setting on the horizon, the two passed in front of a temple to the goddess of love and stopped to watch a couple leaving to the applause of several people. Apparently a wedding due to the clothes and happiness, the two held each other's hands tightly as they smiled at the scene before them. Aemond smiled and gently brushed his lips against Y/n's, then left a gentle kiss there while still holding her hand.

The two separated with smiles at each other and just stood for a few more moments on the other side of the street admiring the happiness of the newlyweds. Suddenly a very dirty and thin dark gray cat came limping down the street, Aemond's eyes instantly went in her direction and Y/n could see him getting sad almost instantly.

And with a sad smile Aemond crouched down and made a soft sound with his mouth, catching the cat's attention. She first looked at him suspiciously showing her teeth and exciting to get closer, and he insisted a little more still making soft sounds as he approached her.

-Calm down girl. - His voice sounded calm and confident, and Y/n smiled seeing the scene. Slowly he reached out his hand, and the little street cat let him touch her dirty and dull fur.

And Aemond took the chance he had been given and gently caressed her with a kind smile on his face.

-Poor little thing. You're probably starving. - His voice sounded sad as he observed the cat who had ribs protruding under her skin because she was so thin.

-Let's get her something to eat then. - Y/n smiled, placing her hand on Aemond's shoulder, who looked back with his eyes shining in agreement.

Aemond had always been passionate about cats, he had a fondness for them since Y/n had met him as a child. He always told her about how cats were intelligent and majestic animals, and when he was younger he was obsessed with the fact that some ancient civilizations worshiped them as if they were deities.

Unfortunately Alicent and Viserys never let Aemond have a cat, Viserys had an old dog named Balerion who was very territorial, and even though he stayed outside more than inside the mansion, Alicent said that he could hurt any other animal and wouldn't let them have other animals.

When Balerion died of old age, Viserys was devastated, but even so, animals were not allowed because Alicent always said that one of them might have an allergy. But that did very little to diminish Aemond's love for cats.

The two walked to a pet shop that they had seen a few blocks back, and when they got there, they bought food for the little cat who ate everything that was offered to her very happily under the watchful eye of Aemond who occasionally stroked her between the ears.

-Why don't you keep her? - Y/n asked when she saw how happy Aemond was with the dirty kitten.

Aemond automatically raised his eyebrows, as if her suggestion was completely absurd.

-I can't have a cat.

-And why not? - She asked gently as she stroked his arm who just stared at her in confusion.

-Because… - Aemond looked at her confusedly as he thought.

There was no Because.

-Aem, you're an adult now, you have your own apartment, you pay your own bills and you're responsible for yourself. - Y/n smiled encouragingly. - There's nothing wrong with doing something you want. Like finally having a cat.

Aemond smiled in disbelief, but that disbelief slowly turned into relief.

-I can do the things I want too. - He repeated to himself, as if Y/n couldn't hear. But she could, and smiled when she heard him say that.

Aemond then walked to the store counter once more to talk to the attendant who was visibly distracted while reading a book with an old cover.

-I'll want a cat carrier. - His voice sounded confident, and Y/n smiled as she looked from Aemond to the cat, who had followed him to the counter and was rubbing against his leg, purring.

❦❦❦

When the two realized it, it was already night, and at any moment Captain White would be waiting for them in the private hangar of the island's airport. Y/n felt her heart tighten in her chest just at the thought of returning to Westeros. Where nothing was private and everyone watched their lives with a magnifying glass, analyzing every mistake to try to separate them. It was as if the weekend had lasted a lifetime, but at the same time it had passed as quickly as a gust of wind.

-Hey beautiful, I have something for you. - Aemond walked through the door with a smile and a red bag in his hands, he had come down a few minutes ago to close the hotel and car rental bill.

-What is it? - Y/n arched her eyebrows, approaching and trying to look inside the bag, and when she saw the contents, her eyes sparkled with joy. - No fucking way. Is that Myrish chocolate?

-Apparently they don't just sell junk at the hotel store. - He smiled and then gasped, stepping back trying to regain his balance after the impact of Y/n jumping on him and distributing kisses all over his face while saying thank you.

Y/n threw herself on the bed, still smiling, with the bag in her hands, already pulling out one of the bars and peeling the chocolate. As soon as she put it in her mouth, she gently threw her head back and moaned with contentment, slowly licking her fingers where the melted parts of the chocolate had remained.

-If you keep going like this, we're going to have a problem. - Aemond raised his eyebrows, admiring her on the bed, and Y/n laughed, running her tongue over her lips provocatively.

-Teasing. - He rolled his eyes, discreetly adjusting his pants as he finished putting the things they had bought in a new brown suitcase.

-This is the best thing I've ever eaten in my life. I could cry because this chocolate is so good, all the other chocolates have been ruined for me, Aem. - She spoke happily as she ate and Aemond just smiled as he watched her genuine joy.

When the room phone rang with a warning that the car had arrived to pick them up, Y/n felt her own heart constricting in her chest with each step she took towards the door.

-What's going on, love? - Aemond placed the cat's transport box on the armchair and held her with both hands, looking into her eyes, and Y/n lowered her gaze, staring at her own feet, unable to say anything.

-You know you can talk to me, Y/n. - He murmured, getting even closer to her. - It's me, Aem.

-I'm afraid to go back. - Y/n sighed, tucking her head into the crook of Aemond's neck.

-What are you afraid of? - He pulled her so he could look into her eyes and could see the shine of tears there.

-That all of this will end. - She practically sobbed, her voice choked. - That they'll separate us once again. - A tear ran down her cheek. - To lose you.

-No. - Aemond spoke in a serious voice, holding her tightly close to him and looking into her eyes. - I won't allow anyone to separate us again. Never again.

-Do you swear? - She asked, still tearful.

-I swear. - Aemond promised as he wiped the tears that had escaped from his Y/n's eyes. - It will be you and me forever. Nothing will come between us, not again.

Y/n smiled slightly upon hearing this and hugged him again, resting her head close to Aemond 's heart and sighing upon hearing the agitated sound that came from there. That heart belonged to her, it always did. Just as hers belonged to him, and Y/n didn't know what she would do if, of all people in the world, Aemond broke it.

tag list: @afro-hispwriter @fan-goddess @strangersunghoon @zenka69 @callsignwidow @amanda08319 @alesswift-blog @marialikescherries

Final notes: Thank you to all of you who commented on previous chapters and asked to be tagged, I think you're all here. 💕💕

Ps: A virtual hug to whoever guesses who the dear cat that Aemond adopted is. Hahaha 💕💕

Tell me what you think of the story, it makes me very happy. 💖

Next chapter

[kitty-tea]

Like father, like son

Part 2 @xcinnamonmalfoyx

(Read part 1 part 3)

(Link to masterlist)

Summary: After the drastic event in you, James, and Harry’s lives, things aren’t the same, but that still doesn’t dull your attraction towards James. In fact, the more time you spend apart from him, the more you can’t stop thinking about him.

A/n: Hi welcome to part 2! This turned out to be way longer than I intended.

Pairing: dilf!James Potter x reader

NSFW 18+ only!

Word count: 5k

Tags/warnings: super long, porn with plot, sexual content, nsfw, masturbation, sex dream, pet names, age gap, reader is of age, James lives, death, angst, fluff, not canon complacent, slow burn, conflicting feelings, sexual frustration, guilt, James is a dilf

The day came for you to say goodbye to Harry. It was also the day Molly and Arthur would pick you so you could move into their house during the school year since the older children had moved out and they could use an extra pair of hands around the house.

Before the train left, you, Harry, and his parents met up with Hermione and the Weasleys. You thought of how glad you were to see them again as you gave each one of them a hug. Ginny had grown taller, Ron had grown stronger, Hermione was still smart as ever, and the twins were still the same goofballs you had graduated with.

You thought it was unusual that Harry gave you an even bigger hug than he did to his parents.

“You alright there?” You asked him.

“I’ll miss you, you know.” He said. “It’ll be my first year without you.”

“Hey, what about us?!” Fred and George’s voices came from behind you, making you jump.

“He’ll get over it.” You turned to them and waved your hand in front of you. “And he was talking to me.” You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Sure he was.” You could practically hear the smirk in Fred’s voice.

“Who wouldn’t miss their big sister?” Same with George’s.

“Don’t you guys know you’re embarrassing him?” Hermione joined in on the conversation.

She was right. You looked in Harry’s direction, where you were greeted by his blushing face.

Why did it seem like they all knew something about Harry that you didn’t?

“Everything will be alright, Harry. We’ll write to each other.” You gave him a reassuring smile and rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe the redness in his cheeks, but that apparently only made it worse.

“I’m sure he’ll be writing to her more than to his parents.” You heard one of the twins whisper to the other one.

You had an easy time distracting yourself from the grief of your parent’s deaths and your forbidden attraction towards James. There was never a boring day in the Burrow. You were always doing something with Molly and Arthur whether it was training, helping out in the garden, cleaning and cooking, or helping the both of them host Order meetings in their house. Other times, you were writing back and forth to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. In his latest letter, Harry had written that he had become the captain of the Quidditch team, and Ron became the Keeper, both of whom you congratulated in your subsequent letters.

The Order meetings were something you dreaded as much as you looked forward to because it was when you’d be forced to be in the same room as James and Lily, whom you hoped wouldn’t suspect you of having a crush on her husband.

You weren’t expecting to embarrass yourself when you came downstairs wearing Percy’s old sleepwear. In the living room was every adult member of the Order you’ve met so far. Not every member showed up to every meeting, so this was a surprise for you.

You saw Remus and Tonks sharing a seat on an oversized armchair big enough to fit both of them while her parents were standing nearby, talking to them. The younger Tonks was the first person to see you as she gave you a goofy grin and waved at you. Next to the pair, the twins were standing next to each other in their own side conversation. Sirius, James, and Lily were at the dining table. Across the room, there was Mundungus Fletcher looking at a shelf of magical artifacts as if they were the most interesting things in the world, and Alastor Moody stood next to him, as if he were making sure he didn’t steal anything. You thought you saw Molly throw a disgusted look towards Fleur Delacour who was talking to Bill and Charlie.

“What’re you all doing here?” You asked groggily.

“Time for you to go back to bed, young lady.” You heard Sirius say.

“What’s going on?” You ignored him.

You then noticed everyone looking at each other back and forth, making you feel awkward.

“Make sure she doesn’t find out.” Tonks was whispering and you saw Remus and Sirius roll their eyes at her inability to keep her mouth shut.

“Find out about what?” You looked at Tonks straight in the eyes.

“Nice one, Tonks. Now she’s going to find out.” Fred elbowed her.

“At least it’s not us getting in trouble this time.” George whispered to his brother.

“Will someone tell me what’s happening?” You demanded the now silent crowd.

“It’s about Dumbledore.” Alastor Moody was the one to get straight to the point.

“We think there’s a plot to assassinate him.” Remus said reluctantly.

“You think?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “What evidence is there? Who brought this up?”

“We got a letter from one of the students.” Sirius said, looking towards his two companions at the table. “It was discovered that Draco Malfoy had been the one planning it. Voldemort had tasked him over the summer. There were other unsuccessful attempts-”

“What student?” You interrupted him.

“That’s not important.” James said.

“Harry followed Malfoy into the bathroom and interrogated him after he overheard Snape scolding him about how he was supposed to poison Dumbledore, not Ron.” As fast as Tonks had blurred out the story, everyone else glared at her.

“Oops.” She whispered meekly.

“You’re going to save Dumbledore right?” You asked everyone, making sure to look them all in the eye. They all gave each other that look that implied they were planning something that excluded you.

“We can’t let you come with us.” Arthur said.

“Why not?” You asked him.

He didn’t let any emotion show on his face.

“There will be Death Eaters trying to get into the school. If they see you, you’ll be in even more danger. They’re already looking for you.” With a deep breath he added, “Especially because they failed to find you and kill you after they did to your parents. Or worse… Make you join them. I’m so sorry.”

“You mean all this time they were looking for me?” You were shocked at Arthur’s revelation. “That’s why you kept shuffling me around different homes this past year. Because you were hiding me without me knowing.” It was all starting to make sense.

“Arthur, that’s enough you’ve upset her.” You must’ve looked like you were about to vomit because Molly came over to you and put an arm around your shoulder.

“Come on, Dear. Let’s get you upstairs. I’ll make you a cup of tea.” She said to you.

“I’m going.” You said boldly.

“No you are not.” James slammed his hand on the table as he stood up.

“If they’re looking for me, let them find me. I don’t want to hide. I want to be a part of something that makes a difference. Isn’t that what it means to be a member of the Order of the Phoenix?” You shrugged off Molly’s hand from your shoulder.

“Hogwarts Express leaves in two hours.” Moody said.

“Alastor! No!” Molly yelled in a threatening tone like she was dealing with the twins.

“She has a point. If she wants to prove she’s capable of handling herself, let her. I trust her.” You were thankful at least someone knew the right way to treat you like an adult.

You could tell no one in the room was happy with what Moody had to say even if he did have a point.

James couldn’t stop bouncing his leg against his seat. The countless possible outcomes of what could happen to you ran through his mind faster than the train was running. He felt Lily’s hand patting his thigh, as if trying to soothe him.

“I remember my first time riding this train.” She smiled, looking out at the mountains.

James scoffed. “So do I. That’s when I first met you. And Snivellus. You know we’ll see him right? He works there.”

“Come on, James. He’s changed just as much as you did.”

“From what Harry’s told us about him, I know he’s changed from a bitter teenage boy to a bitter teacher.”

“It’ll be alright, you don’t have to be overly friendly with him if you do see him.” James felt comforted as she put her hand on his.

The scenery zooming past the window did nothing to soothe the nauseous feeling inside your stomach that had been there since the morning. One thing you were grateful for was that you were alone in the compartment. You didn’t want anyone else to see you like this, all huddled up with your knees to your chest, looking like a nervous wreck. You didn’t want the others to regret their decision to bring you along. You were starting to second guess yourself. Maybe you should’ve listened to James and Arthur by staying at the Burrow.

You tapped your finger against the handle of your wand that was tucked into your boot. You then moved onto fiddling with the laces of your dress, (the one that Sirius dug out from his mother’s closet.) You had to busy yourself with anything to get your mind off your anxiety.

You were a Gryffindor. It was your job to be brave, you reminded yourself as you let yourself doze off.

You awoke to a knock on the window of your compartment door. You sat up and rubbed your eyes as the faces of Moody and Tonks came into focus.

You opened the door to let them in.

“Good evening, Sleepyhead.” Tonks greeted you, alerting you that it was in fact evening already and that you’d be arriving in Hogsmeade soon.

“Now, you listen to me.” Moody said, as he let his staff bang on the floor in front of him before he and Tonks took a seat in front of you. “I trust you enough to come with us. Tonks and I both think you’re ready.”

You looked at Tonks, who gave you one of her goofy smiles and a thumbs up.

“The problem is,” Moody continued with a frown. “The others underestimate you. They can’t keep coddling you.”

“Don’t worry.” Tonks gave you a reassuring smile. “I remember my first mission with the Order. I was just as nervous as you are.”

“Don’t, under any circumstances, separate from anyone in the group.” Moody said to you gruffly. “Are we clear? You can’t be seen alone by a Death Eater.”

“Yes sir.” You said.

As soon as all of you got off the train, you looked at each other, sensing a more sinister presence across the Black Lake looming over the school.

“They're here already.” Sirius said grimly.

“How? We know the teachers put up protection charms around the school to keep out the Death Eaters.” James said.

“I don’t know, James.” Sirius shrugged. “But we need to get there quickly.”

All of you then rushed to where the carriages were. You looked on sadly as you saw James sitting next to Lily with Remus and Sirius across from them.

You shivered in your dress as you got onto the carriage with Tonks and Moody.

“I know what you’re thinking…” Tonks caught you off guard when she winked at you.

“Excuse me?” You looked to Moody for clarification, but it seemed he was just as confused as you were.

“Don’t pretend like I don’t know what you’re thinking. I went through the same thing with Remus.”

Your eyes widened and you blushed as it then clicked in your brain what she meant. Moody looked on to the side of the carriage, completely ignoring you two.

“There’s no need to feel bad even though he’s married.”

“What?!” You loudly whispered as you covered your mouth. You looked at your two companions feeling embarrassed.

“Moody’s been around too long to not know how to keep secrets and ignore them.” Tonks said nonchalantly.

You felt disturbed that she was able to read you so openly. If she was able to do it, you’d hate to imagine what the others might pick up on from you.

“I know you.” Tonks went on. You wanted to tell her to shut up as much as you wanted her to keep talking. “You’re too innocent to want to hurt Lily. That’s why you’ve never said anything. Don’t be scared of your feelings as long as you don’t act on them.”

“Yeah, I won’t.” You scoffed, more to yourself.

“Then you haven’t got anything to worry about.” She said a little too cheerfully.

“Oh… thanks?” You didn’t know what else to say about her awkward, but well-intentioned attempt at giving you advice.

As you got to the school, your nerves didn’t calm down one bit. In fact, they seemed to multiply. Heeding Moody’s advice, you tried to stay as close to everyone, but you somehow found yourself alone in the familiar dark corridors. You lost track of time, trying your best to hide from any Death Eaters roaming the castle along with the screaming students running for their lives.

You thought you had lost everyone when you heard a voice softly call out your name.

You turned around to the sight of Harry running towards you. He was wearing jeans and a hoodie. You felt tears threaten to escape you. You were so glad you found someone you were familiar with amongst all this chaos.

“Harry, what is it?” You asked frantically.

“It’s Voldemort! He and the Death Eaters got into the castle and now they're battling with the Order in the Astronomy Tower!” He answered you just as frantically. He was also out of breath. “Dumbledore told me to run. And then, my parents told me to go and find you.”

“I’m so happy you’re alright.” You hugged Harry just as tightly as he hugged you. “Where are the other students?”

“Fred and George are helping the Prefects make sure everyone else gets to their common rooms.” He said.

“I have to go help your parents and the others!” You suddenly let go of him.

“Dad told me to get you to the Gryffindor common room where he thinks you’ll be safe.” Harry contradicted.

“I told your dad and the rest of the Order that I’m not hiding.” You contradicted him back. “I’m going to help. Are you coming with me?” You took out your wand from inside your boot.

Harry sighed. “Alright, then.”

Seeing as how Harry was almost as short as you, you had no trouble keeping up with each other’s footsteps as you ran through the castle and up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. The first person whose eyes you caught were James’. He was in a duel with Professor Snape, who if you looked closely, was deflecting James’ attacks at the Death Eaters next to him. You knew Snape was a powerful wizard, so there was no way he’d do this unintentionally. It was strange to you, but you didn’t question it out loud.

“Kids! Get out of here!” James yelled at you and Harry, which made Snape turn his eyes towards you.

“I’m not leaving without a fight!” You yelled back through the sounds of other screaming wizards around you.

“Stop it! This isn’t the time to try to act like a brave little Gryffindor! You’ll only get hurt! Harry, I told you to make sure she gets to the common room with the other students!” James was out of breath as much as Snape was. You were just as thankful as you were confused as to why Snape didn’t try to attack you and Harry.

“No, Dad. She didn’t want to go. And I’m with her!” Harry exclaimed cofindently. “I’m not leaving without a fight either.” You both gave each other a nod.

For the first time since entering the tower, you took a full glance at your surroundings.

Tonks and her parents were fighting against two witches you recognized as Bellatrix Lestrange and her younger sister Narcissa Malfoy, who looked like she didn’t want to be there, with the eldest of the three sisters repeatedly throwing insults at the middle one, along the lines of “blood-traitor” or “mud-blood lover.” If it weren’t for the wands, it would’ve looked like a typical family argument.

You then saw Fleur, Bill, and Charlie try with their combined strengths to fend off the wolfish attacks of Fenrir Greyback, whom you knew as the one responsible for turning Remus into what he had become. If he was no weaker than three grown wizards combined, you’d hate to see what he’d be capable of in his full wolf form.

The two most powerful wizards in the room however, were Dumbledore and Voldemort, who instead of exchanging words and attacks, put all their energy into a clash of light, daring each other to let go and give into the exhaustion.

It was Dumbledore who gave in, as Voldemort’s blast hit him and sent him to the ground. Dumbledore may have been old, but his speed at getting up was rivaled to that of someone your age.

You saw Voldemort whip his head around to find a new target, you and Harry. He shot a non-verbal attack at you, and with you and Harry’s combined strengths, were able to block it.

You saw James let go of his mission of attacking Snape as he turned to the three of you, and before Voldemort could get a look at him, he pushed him to the ground.

“I told you two to get out!” James yelled angrily.

Using the strength of both hands, Voldemort grabbed James by the collar of his shirt, and tugged him off before pulled him up to eye-level.

“James Potter…” He sneered, as James clenched his teeth, keeping eye contact with him. “Just as weak as the day I tried to kill you all those years ago.”

James grabbed his wrist and pried them off of him, but not before spitting in his face.

“You are not scaring me!” He yelled over the sound of Voldemort’s cackling.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Snape standing all alone, everyone else too distracted by fighting each other to notice him, but not you and Harry.

Snape aimed his wand at Dumbledore, and you heard the spell being used for the first time.

“Avada Kedavra.” He didn’t sound angry, just sad, like he knew he had to do this and was dreading it. You guessed that with all of Malfoy’s failed assassination attempts, Snape decided to take matters into his own hands.

Except it didn’t hit Dumbledore because Lily pushed him back to the ground, making the blast hit her instead.

The entire battle stopped, and everyone put down their wands.

“Lily! No!” James turned his attention to Lily from Voldemort, who looked like a child watching fireworks on New Year’s.

Harry was being held back by Remus from attempting to lung out at Snape and get himself hurt, you assumed. The only things that came out of Harry were tears and a scream, no words.

You heard Bellatrix’s cackle as she was the first Death Eater to fly away from the observation deck, not without a goodbye.

“Until next time, little sister!” Her maniacal laughter faded along with her. Narcissa pushed past her niece as she wordlessly sprinted down the stairs, probably to go find Draco.

After the other Death Eaters flew away, Voldemort disapparated along with his maniacal laughter that was deeper than Bellatrix’s. Snape was the only Death Eater who remained.

It was James who threw a punch at Snape, but all he did was stand there without a word, letting James use him as a punching bag a couple more times.

“I was right about you! You are still the same terrible person I went to school with! Lily tried convincing me you’ve changed! She was your friend! I can’t believe she ever chose to be your friend! You never deserved her in your life! You will never be worthy enough to have someone like her in your life!” With each sentence that ripped out of him, James’ punches towards Snape became more potent until there was a faint line of blood coming out of his mouth.

“Fight back, you coward!” Was the last thing James yelled before letting his fist drop to look at the forming bruises on his knuckles.

Dumbledore was silent as he came over to James, and put an arm around the crying man’s shoulders.

He gently pulled him away, and whispered, “I’ll apparate her body back to Godric’s Hollow. Make sure you and the others regroup at your home. I’ll meet you there.”

James held his head up, revealing his tears to everyone. He nodded at Dumbledore’s order.

There were bouquets of Lilies everywhere in James’ living room. The number of flowers had greatly outnumbered the people. He couldn’t have known that during the moment Lily was talking about her first train ride to Hogwarts, it would also be her last train ride to Hogwarts. It was like a twisted circle of life, is how James saw it.

Then there was you and Harry. You had lost two parents, gained multiple parental figures, and lost one of them in the span of a year. Harry had never seen someone die before, and it was even worse that the first death he witnessed was his own mother.

He saw you and Harry sitting on the couch together. Your arm was around his shoulder, and he was sobbing his heart out. People used to tell James that boys don’t cry and they should feel shame for showing such a vulnerable emotion in public, but at that moment, James felt proud of his son for having the courage to show his emotions in public, and proud of you for being a good supportive friend to his son.

The rest of the wake went by in a blur, the only other vivid thing James remembered being Dumbledore giving a small speech about Lily’s life before inviting whomever to give their own speeches about her.

This was the last day James would be in close proximity with you for a very long time.

Life went on, but you never stopped thinking about James. After saving up your money, Sirius helped you find a flat in London while Arthur was finally convinced to arrange for you to begin your training as an Auror under the mentorship of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Being as busy as you were, you stopped showing up to the Order meetings even though you received every invitation Arthur had sent you.

Although you were new in the Ministry, Kingsley still held you to the same standards and expectations as he did with the older employees. That only made you more eager to prove yourself which led to you being satisfied with the outcome of your hard work.

That didn’t mean you were any less grateful for the Potters, Weasleys, Sirius, and other members of the Order for helping to shape you into who you had become. You would never stop being grateful towards Lily for everything she had done for you over the past year you’d known each other. You felt that your gratefulness towards Lily and the sadness you felt for her death made you even more guilty of still having that same attraction you had towards James.

You still thought about him every night before you went to bed. Every time you thought about your memories with him while you were in bed, you would experience a dull ache between your thighs that didn’t go away unless you used your fingers, your hairbrush, or even your pillow to rub in that specific spot to relieve it.

Still wearing your camisole and your panties, you tried to drift off to sleep, but once again, your mind imagined that instead of you being by yourself, that James was next to you. It was summer which meant it was way too hot for you to put a blanket over yourself.

Your head started to feel hazy as your fingers traced over your lips, imagining a kiss with James. The knuckles of your other hand found themselves brushing from the back of your ear to your neck, where you remembered James had brushed a strand of your hair behind it during that training session.

There was no denying that jolt of pleasure that ran through you for a split second as his finger accidentally grazed along the seam of your shorts that covered your pussy. As if having your pussy lips being touched wasn’t enough, you had even felt the pressure of his finger on the sensitive little nub just above it. Just imagining his fingers being there again made that ache between your thighs burn even more.

You let your fingertips trail from your lips to your neck before going over the hardened peak of one of your nipples. You gasped at the pleasurable sensation you brought onto yourself. You continued to softly rub your finger over your nipple, then squeezing your breast, alternating between the two actions. The fingers of your other hand then went over the goosebumps covering your stomach before tracing over the lace trim of your panties. Your fingers were so close to circling over your clit and your inner lips which were so swollen from all the blood rushing to them that just the lightest pressure of anything against the thin material covering them would make you explode.

“Well, aren’t you a filthy little girl.” You suddenly heard a deep voice from the corner of the room, and you could see the shiny outline of a pair of glasses. You felt your cheeks reddening as you pulled your fingers away from yourself, embarrassed at being caught in such a private moment.

“James?” You gasped, sitting up, your hair falling to your face.

“You were thinking about me weren’t you?” His features started to morph into clarity.

“How…?” The next thing you knew, you looked down, and your camisole and panties were gone as you were laying down on your bed without anything to cover you.

You tried to move your limbs, but it was as if there was an invisible rope binding them onto your mattress. You looked up, and gasped to see James also wasn’t wearing anything either. He had taken his position in front of your bed, standing in front of it, and he was stroking himself. You were mesmerized by the way his hand slid up and down his hard shaft and the grunts that would come out of his mouth at every other stroke.

“Oh, James. I want your delicious cock! I can’t stop thinking about you!”

You were unable to control your mouth as you found yourself moaning those sentences out loud. You gasped, feeling mortified.

“Aww…” James frowned, feigning empathy. “You poor little slut. You couldn’t help yourself could you? Having all these filthy thoughts about me while I was married. You were a good girl, holding yourself back. But now you feel free don’t you? Free to take me? You’re ready to be a little slut.”

“Please! I’m sorry!” You couldn’t believe he would insinuate something like that. You had not once dared to feel happy about Lily’s death and claim James all for yourself. You would’ve hurt your friendship with Harry, and you would’ve been guilty of feeling like you were replacing his mother.

“You’ve been such a good little girl. Don’t you just want to give in?” James brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. It was as if there was something controlling you, making you unable to resist sucking on his thumb.

You looked into his eyes as he was smirking. He pulled out his thumb with a plop.

“I promise you, it’ll feel really good.” You shivered as he caressed your cheek. “I know that I’m hungry to feast on that delicious looking pussy you’re showing me.”

“Make me feel good, James!” You screamed, and you felt his warm tongue slide up along your inner lips before taking one of them in his mouth and sucking on it.

You released a loud moan that was straight out of those Muggle porno films you had found stashed in Sirius’ home that you watched without his knowledge.

His lips let go of your pussy before he moved onto your face. There, you found yourselves with your lips locked onto each other’s.

You didn’t understand what was happening as you felt like James’ lips were on every sensitive area of your body when his face was right in front of you. You felt a warm, wet sucking sensation on both of your nipples, making you arch your back and moan into his mouth.

Before you knew it, you felt his cock probing at your entrance. You stayed in your position, panting and moaning around him, overwhelmed and drunk on the pleasure he was feeding you. There was tension that started to build inside your core which began to build more and more pressure inside of you.

You were about to scream as you opened your eyes and were greeted by the sight of your bedroom which was empty of anybody else besides you. You were left with disappointment at the orgasm that died down inside of you with your waking breath.

You gasped at the familiar ache between your thighs accompanied by a warm wetness inside your panties.

If you couldn’t finish the job in your dream, you could at least do yourself a favor by doing whatever you could do to pleasure yourself.

You pushed the feeling of guilt that had come up in your dream to the back of your mind while your fingers found their way inside your panties.

You were so wet from your dream last night that it was easy for your finger to frantically slide up, down, and between your inner lips. You felt a wave of pleasure crash over you immediately as your middle finger applied the right amount of pressure on your clit while rubbing it. You came inside your panties while moaning and screaming James’ name.

As fast as your orgasm wore off, guilt took the place of pleasure. Tears started to form in your eyes at the realization of what you had done. Maybe you were the filthy slut that James from your dreams said you were.