#but then i realized i already titled it with its (most likely) final title so nobody knew it was jercy at all 😭😭

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Unchaperoned.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 5.2k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Prolonged Captivity, Semi-Public Sex, Mentions of Physical/Psychological Abuse, Mentions of Kidnapping, Reader's Just Going Through It In This One Okay, and Dissociative Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You should’ve known something was wrong as soon as you realized Satoru wasn’t in bed.

Most mornings, he’d already be gone by the time you woke up, with the only signs that he’d ever laid down next to you at all being the phantom weight of his chest pressed into your back and a sickly sweet note left on the bedside table (usually something to the tune of ‘be home late tonight, can’t wait to see you again’ or ‘if you keep trying to pick the lock on the kitchen window, I’ll know’), but today was supposed to be one of his prized days-off, and when he wasn’t pried away from you by obligation, he preferred to spend as much time as he could sprawled out across the mattress, your body tucked against his, waiting for the haze of a slow morning to dip and ebb until his mouth founds its way to your neck and his hands to your waist. Sometimes, he was called away by an emergency mission, a sudden problem with one of his students, but you weren’t often that lucky, and he never left without waking you up, first.

Failing that, you should’ve known something was wrong when you did finally open your eyes, and immediately found Satoru looming above you, perched on the edge of the mattress, already dressed and wearing the wide, toothy grin that made your stomach drop and something embedded deep within your chest curl up and pray for death.

You tried to shut your eyes, to roll over, to pretend you were still asleep, but Satoru must’ve been watching you for a while. His hand was on your shoulder before you could so much as settle into place, his mouth crashing into yours before you could brace yourself for his rough affection. He’d never been a very good kisser, even when you’d been a willing victim, but there seemed to be no moment sweet enough and no occasion soft enough to stop him from forcing his tongue down your throat, from keeping his mouth slotted against yours until your lungs ached, from nipping at your bottom lip with enough force to sting. Too resigned to be genuinely annoyed, you remained limp and pliable underneath him until he finally pulled back, his smile just a little brighter as he beamed down at you.

“I picked out something nice for you,” he muttered, his voice low, sentimental. If it wasn’t for the cold bolt of dread that accompanied the sound of his voice, you might’ve called it playful. “Get dressed. We’re going on a field trip.”

You swallowed, thickly. “Where are we going?”

Impossibly, his smile seemed to grow wider. “It’s a surprise. You’ll like it, I promise.”

You blinked up at him, too used to suppressing your reaction for the effort to be conscious. Satoru was possessive, but he was also childish, impulsive – too self-indulgent to keep his favorite toy locked away for very long. Usually, though, your little trips were planned meticulously and limited to five-star restaurants with private backrooms, rented-out theaters, picnics in the countryside where he could ensure you wouldn’t have anyone to pay attention to other than him. He’d never been so vague, before. You didn’t like having to guess what he was going to do to you.

But, his grip on your shoulder tightened, and you were abruptly reminded that you didn’t have much of a choice. It was either go along with his whims, play into his domestic fantasies, or risk disobeying him and—

And disobedience wasn’t an option. Not anymore. Not after so long.

A little more than an hour later, you were in the backseat of a black sedan, hands clasped together in your lap and Satoru’s arm draped over your shoulders. Every so often, your eyes flitted from the floor to the window, lingering on the passing landscape for no longer than a few seconds before falling back to something less direct, less contentious. Still, from what you could tell, you were miles outside of the city and deep into the backwoods that surrounded it. Anxiety alternated between tying knots in the pit of your stomach and stabbing into the tender flesh at the back of your throat. You’d never been very prone to motion sickness, but maybe, if you told Satoru, you’d look pale enough for him to buy it, tell his driver to turn around, and let you go back to the kind of misery you were used to.

You straightened, sucking in a deep breath and doing your best to choke down the worst of your paranoia. If Satoru noticed the extent of your distress, the most the offered by way of reassurance was an airy laugh, a gentle tug that left you pressed that much deeper into his side. Fighting not to draw back, you broke the silence, more eager for a distraction than a genuine answer. “Are you really not going to tell me where we’re going?”

“I can’t, baby.” He was still playing coy, playing cute. It might’ve been charming three years ago, when you were just having fun with a mysterious man with endless funding and eyes brighter than cloudless sky, but it was hard to find someone charming after you’d known them longer as a captor than you ever had as a friend, as a partner. “If I did, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now, would it?”

Your gaze fell into your lap. You’d been allowed to do your make-up and style your hair to your preferences, but he’d chosen your outfit – an ankle-length sundress the color of snow and daisy petals and pale skin bled dry. The color of his hair, although you tried not to let the automatic association needle its way into your conscious mind. “I don’t like surprises.”

“You’ll like this one.” Another laugh, another tug. Your skin was crawling. Maybe you wouldn’t have to play sick after all. “It’s real special to me. Thought I should finally get around to sharing it with you.”

You could remember complaining about that kind of thing, once – just how little you knew about Satoru in comparison to just how much he knew about you. You shared your life openly with him, and even if you hadn’t, he always seemed to be just around the corner, always where he needed to be to walk you home after a dull workday or invite himself to drink at a downtown bar with you and your friends. He’d been more secretive, more discreet. It’d taken you three months to find out he was a teacher, and another six so much as hear the word ‘sorcerer’. In retrospect, it was probably more of a deliberate effort than you’d been willing to give him credit for, at the time. He’d assumed that, the moment you found out anything more than his name, you’d try to run, and he’d been right. He’d wanted to delay the inevitable, and he’d succeeded.

It was stupid to be so worried. It was stupid to be so… so upset. Most days, you would’ve traded anything to be able to leave Satoru’s suffocating penthouse apartment, would’ve sold your left kidney for just an hour of freedom, but this wasn’t freedom, and it was hard to enjoy the illusion of it when you didn’t know what price you’d have to pay after it was pried away from you. You didn’t like not knowing what to expect. You didn’t like not knowing what you’d done to deserve this. You didn’t like that, even after years of learning to deal with Satoru’s bullshit, he could still make you feel just as scared and just as helpless as the day you first woke up in that dark room, your hands tied behind your back and—

The car jolted to an abrupt stop. Reflexively, you snapped up, going rigid, but Satoru seemed unaffected. He started to reach for the door, then stopped himself – fishing something out of his pocket. “Show me your hand, princess.” Satoru didn’t give you time to obey before taking you by the wrist and slipping a thick, silver ring onto your finger. You glanced from it to Satoru, who winked. “Just in case.”

You didn’t have a chance to ask what he meant before he was threading his fingers through yours and dragging you out of the backseat, into the open air. You tried to be thankful to have room to breathe – tried, and failed.

The driver didn’t follow you out. You stood, alone and unprepared, next to Satoru at the foot of massive, winding, temple-style staircase. Weather-beaten torii separated the pathway from crowded foliage, and with your hand still trapped in his, Satoru guided you through the steep ascent, each step accompanied by another drop of tell-tale dread, a fresh wave of anxiety. For one long, terrible minute, you managed to convince yourself that there was a sacrificial altar waiting at the top, or a guillotine – something ornamental and damning that he’d use to cut your life that much shorter, to tie you that much closer to him. Your eyes were clenched shut by the time you crested the peak, your breathing rapid and shallow, any panic you might’ve been able to stave off during the trip now returning in full force. It was all you could do to keep yourself from breaking down entirely when he finally, finally came to a stop, squeezing your hand with enough force to leave it aching.

 You wanted to stay like that, blind and deaf and only on the verge of sobbing, but it wasn’t possible – your body couldn’t take much more, and even if you had been more durable, Satoru wouldn’t wait much longer. Tentatively, you forced yourself to open your eyes and took in—

A schoolyard. A bog-standard, borderline uninteresting, utterly devoid of life schoolyard. The architecture was a little pre-modern, sure, and it was strange not to see any students or teachers milling through the open space, but it was far from the ceremonial execution site you’d primed yourself to step into. As far as you could see, at least.

“Pretty, right? In a rustic kind of way, I mean.” Satoru was still grinning from ear-to-ear. You doubted he’d stop any time soon. “I promised I’d get around to showing you where I work eventually. C’mon, I’ll give you the tour.”

Right. You’d known he was a teacher, but somehow, you’d managed to go your entire captivity without ever so much as attempting to picture the school where he must’ve taught. Then again, to be fair, you may have had more important things on your mind.

The tour wasn’t optional. When Satoru wasn’t dragging you from building to building, he was rambling on about his students, his own education, telling you decade-old stories with more energy than a man closer to thirty-one than eighteen should’ve had. You listened to very little of it and retained even less, but Satoru seemed satisfied with your occasional nod muted noises of acknowledgment. You never passed anyone else, but he kept a vice-grip on your hand, as if he was scared you’d make a run for it as soon as he turned away. A few months ago, you might’ve considered it, but you weren’t that hopeful, anymore.

“One more stop,” he said, as he pulled you towards the last building – or, buildings, rather. It was a row of ornamental classrooms, all divided into separate schoolhouses. Against your better judgment, you edged forward, willing him to move a little faster, too. This was the last stop. He just wanted to show you his classroom, then you could leave. This was the last thing you’d have to endure, and then, you could go back to the kind of misery you were used to.

Or, at least, that’s what you might’ve told yourself if a blur of pink and black hadn’t emerged from the nearest corner, sprinting across the small courtyard, and running directly into Satoru’s chest.

You flinched back, but if Satoru was fazed, you couldn’t tell. You couldn’t see his eyes, not through the tint of his glasses, but he wore a crooked smile as he looked down at the teenage boy now standing in front of you. He must’ve been in high school – a first-year, if you had to guess, his black uniform coated in dust and debris. Rubbing the back of his neck, he blinked a few times before seeming to notice Satoru and straightening, bowing his head shallowly. “Gojo-sensei,” he barked, speaking quickly enough for the name and the honorific to blend together. “I was looking for Nanamin, but— So, Kugisaki found this ultra-cool cursed weapon, and we thought Fushiguro could figure out—”

He was cut off abruptly by a sneaker hitting the back of his head. A second later, another teenager – a girl, this time – seemed to appear behind the boy. Notably, she was missing a shoe. “He’s lying,” she said, her tone nearly venomous enough to be believable. “Whatever he says, it isn’t true. He’s a liar, and sexist, and I heard Sukuna say—” Abruptly, she cut herself off, her attention snapping towards you. She was quiet for a second, then another, before going on with a polite smile. “Hello, ma’am.”

For the first time, the boy turned to you, his eyes immediately widening. “Fuck,” And then, his gaze falling to where his hand was still wrapped around yours, “Fuck.”

You couldn’t stop yourself – bringing up your free hand to stifle your laugh. You almost introduced yourself, but Satoru was quick to cut you off. “These,” he explained, with a broad gesture to both teenagers. “are my beloved students, Kugisaki and Itadori, who value my mentorship and look up to me as their teacher.”

“I know,” the girl, Kugisaki, whispered to her companion, Itadori, only half-heartedly trying to hide her voice. “I really didn’t think men or women could stand to be around him.”

“And, adoring students, this,” His grip tightened as he forced your hand into the air, your new ring facing the students. “is my beautiful fiancé.”

“Fiancé,” Itadori repeated. “Was it, like, arranged?”

And then, from Kugisaki to you, “Did he pay you up front?”

Reflexively, you moved to respond, used to having to provide an answer as soon as you were asked a question lest Satoru resort to more drastic means of getting your attention, but something else caught your attention. A mop of black hair rounding the schoolhouse’s corner, the collar of a white t-shirt pulled over a bloody nose obscuring, but not completely hiding, a familiar face. You didn’t want to, but you recognized him immediately.

Megumi.

Huh.

You’d never seen him without his sister, before.

He made a point not to look at you, dark eyes trained on the ground as he positioned himself a few feet behind his more energetic classmates. You opened your mouth, then closed it, then opened it again just as quickly. You might’ve actually found the courage to say something, if Kugisaki hadn’t lurched forward, shoving Itadori out of the way and tearing your hand out of Satoru’s. She clasped both your hands between hers, staring up at you with a frantic kind of urgency. “Listen,” she started, her tone just as dire as her expression. “If he bribed, kidnapped, or threatened you to make you go along with this, say so. There’s another sorcerer on campus – we’ll make sure you’re safe while he’s brought to the proper authorities.”

You hesitated, for a second.

Then, you opened your mouth, and distantly, heard your own voice spilling out. “We used to be in a relationship.” You stopped, swallowed, then went on. “But, he kidnapped me three years ago, and he’s kept me trapped in his home ever since. If I ever leave him, he says he’ll break my legs and kill everyone I know. He hasn’t really proposed, yet, either. He just shoved a ring onto my hand and started calling me his fiancé a few hours ago.”

There was a beat of silence, then another.

And then, Satoru laughed. It was a cheery, juvenile sort of laugh. A ‘forget everything you just heard and look at me’ sort of laugh.

Soon enough, his students joined him – Itadori first, then Kagisuki. Megumi never made a sound.

“I think what you meant to say,” Megumi didn’t even look at you. You wished you could ask how his sister was doing. You wished you could say anything at all. “is that it was love at first sight. I was on a mission, fighting my way through a group of a hundred curses. That’s when I heard someone crying out from the heart of the swarm, and I—”

You made no attempt to listen. As Satoru’s story drowned on, Megumi’s eyes flitted upward – first to Satoru, then to you, widening slightly. You made the same realization a second later.

Satoru wasn’t holding your hand, anymore.

Satoru wasn’t paying attention to you at all.

Finally, Megumi met your gaze. He held your stare for a second, before shifting – looking towards something behind you. His message was glaringly apparent, albeit unspoken.

 You took half a step back, then another. Satoru was still caught up in his story, and if his students noticed you moving, they didn’t feel the need to comment. It wouldn’t work, something vile and fearful whispered into the back of your mind. He’d notice, and he’d drag you to somewhere isolated and claustrophobic, and he’d break every finger on your right hand, or dislocate both your ankles, or lock you in a room so dark and so tiny that you would be able to convince yourself he’d buried you alive. It wouldn’t work, but you were already three feet away from him, then ten, then twenty. At some point, Megumi shifted, taking your place just outside of Satoru’s peripheral, replacing your presence at his side. When you reached the corner of the nearest schoolhouse, you turned on your heels and ran.

Your mind raced as you made your way back to the main schoolyard, back to the front gates. You were in the backwoods, but you couldn’t be that far from the city – not if you’d been able to drive here. There was bound to be a public road nearby, or better yet, a highway, something with drivers you could flag down and beg to take you as far from here as possible. You’d pawn the ring, dye your hair, call yourself by a different name until you found someone willing to get you out of Tokyo, to get you out of Japan. Maybe, if you made it to a port city, you could—

You stopped abruptly about twenty feet away from the main gates. A blonde man in a suit leaned against one of the wooden beams, his face familiar but not immediately placeable. Someone working for Satoru, you thought, irrationally. Someone who wanted to stop you from getting away.

He was already looking at you. He nodded, the gesture slow and measured, and you continued to stare blankly in the direction of the gates. “(Y/n).”

His identity came to you immediately. Not Satoru’s employee, but one of his coworkers, only barely remembered from a few nights spent drinking, a handful of conversations you only barely remembered. “Kento.”

You’d taken a few beats to respond, but Kento wasn’t as hesitant. “Gojo said you left the city.”

“I didn’t.”

“You’re here with him?”

You swallowed. “He’s talking to his students, right now.”

He took a moment to evaluate you – your disheveled dress, your wide eyes, the way you couldn’t seem to stop breathing in shallow, panicked huffs. Should you have tried to look more sympathetic, more like a captive? Should you be talking to him at all?

 He didn’t smile, didn’t soften his tone into something overly sweet, overly dizzying. It was good that he didn’t – or, actually, it might’ve been bad. If he had, you would’ve forced your way past him without ever stopping to hear what he had to say. “He was never the type to think further than he could reach,” Kento said, straightening. “I’d like to talk to you, sometime. Somewhere private.”

“I… Satoru doesn’t really like it when I—”

“Gojo doesn’t have to know.” He paused, straightened. “Honestly, I’d prefer if he didn’t.”

Something thick and acidic rose into the back of your throat. It was your turn to straighten, now, to ball your fists at your side, to let your mouth fall open and—

And shut it again as you felt an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you against a broad chest. You didn’t have to check to know it was Satoru. You felt his fingertips dig into your side, his chin settle onto your shoulder. “Just can’t stand not to havin’ me all to yourself, huh?” His voice was low, playful. If you’d been able to think over the deafening static in your head, you would’ve called yourself an idiot for ever thinking it was cute.

“Thanks for looking after her for me.” He was talking to Nanami, now. You might’ve been grateful, if not for the ever-present pressure of his hand on your waist. “My fiancé tends to wander off.”

Kento’s expression, as always, was near-unreadable. He seemed to catch on the word ‘fiancé’, but whether that was because of the implication or the way Satoru seemed to bask in it, you couldn’t tell.

His response was curt, polite. “Congratulations.”

You could feel Satoru’s grin against your throat. He’d been glad to show you off in front of his students, but it almost seemed compulsory for him to flaunt you in front of Kento. “One wrong step, and suddenly I’m a taken man. Not that I’d have it any other way.” His arm fell away from your waist. Rather than reaching for your hand, he took you by the wrist, his grip tight enough to bruise. “I’ve gotta show the little lady a couple more things. You’ll keep an eye on the first years for me, right?”

Kento might’ve tried to answer, but you were around long enough to hear it. Satoru was already dragging you back in the direction of the schoolhouses, and willingly, you followed, keeping your head bowed and your teeth grit. It was almost a relief to know he was going to do something terrible to you. At least, while you were injured, or bound, or so heavily sedated that you couldn’t remember your own name, you wouldn’t be able to try to run away again. You wouldn’t be able to get your hopes up, and have to bear the hollow, gnawing agony that came when they were, yet again, dragged back down and crushed under Satoru’s heel.

There were no flustered students to intercept you before you reached his classroom, this time, no stoic teachers to pretend to care that you looked so miserable. Satoru only let go of your hand once you’d crossed the threshold, once he’d shut and locked the door behind you. Idly, you wandered into the empty space at the front of the classroom, only sparing a quick glance towards the empty chalkboard, the vacant teacher’s desk, the barren walls before letting your eyes fall back to your feet. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “I didn’t mean to do anything, but—” You almost brought up Megumi, but stopped yourself. “I… I’m just sorry.”

Satoru hummed. You felt a hand on your hip first, then your side, nudging you towards the desk. When you failed to move, he chuckled and abandoned the idea of your cooperation entirely – lifting you off of your feet without a hint of strain and placing you on edge of the empty desk, positioning himself between your legs. His hands fell to either side of you, caging you between his arms. “I know, pretty girl, I know.”

“And—And, your students seemed so nice, or—uh, energetic, at least. I haven’t talked to anyone other than you in so long, I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I get it, princess. You were always shy like that.”

Shy. You’d never really been shy. Not before he kidnapped you, at least. Not before he took all the things you’d always told yourself that people just didn’t do to each other and done them to you.

Still, you didn’t correct him. “Can we…” You trailed off, shrunk into yourself. “Can we go home, then? I don’t want to—”

His mouth was crashing into yours before you could finish. You jerked back, but one of his hands was already on the back of your neck, keeping you in place while his tongue racked over yours and he moaned shamelessly into your mouth. Just as suddenly as he’d lounged, he drew back, his mouth falling to your throat as his free hand slipped under the skirt of your sundress.

There were a few minor differences between building dread and cold, pointed fear that you’d never noticed, before your time with Satoru – that you still managed to sometimes forget, during the brief calm patches spread throughout the course of your captivity. What you’d felt in the back of his car, that aching pressure that can only ever stand on the precipice of crushing – that was dread, all anticipation and no catharsis, your own mind doing worse things to you than Satoru ever could.

What you felt as the pad of his thumb traced over the length of your slit – that was fear.

“No,” as your hands found his shoulders, nails burrowing down, and then, a second, later, as your eyes found the door you’d come through. “Not here, ‘toru, it’s—Your students, they’re still—”

“You don’t have to worry, pretty girl. I’ve still got an eye on them.” His voice was airy, distant, his words only just audible in the gaps between open-mouthed kisses pressed into the curve of your throat. You could feel his saliva on your skin, the heat of his breath fanning across your jugular. Disgusting. He was disgusting. Disgusting and messy and vulgar and perverted. You were ashamed that you’d ever so much as considered loving him willingly. “I’ll be quick – all you’ve gotta do is sit still and look pretty.”

“But, someone might—” Your voice cut off as he found your clit and pressed down, immediately using too much force and too little care. You jerked forward, burying your face in the dip of his shoulder, but Satoru had only ever taken your aversion as a sign to go further, to do more. You could feel him drawing little, quick patterns into the sensitive bud through the thin fabric of your panties, and even worse, you could feel liquid heat beginning to pool in the pit of your stomach, dripping out from the space between your thighs – your own body betraying you when faced with Satoru’s coercion. “Satoru,” you whined, your pleading tone the closest thing to actual anger that he would allow. “Please, I don’t want to do this her—”

He hushed you, the noise soft and definite, and just like that, you gave up on speaking entirely.

Satoru’s impatience was unparalleled, but he’d had time to train your body to keep up with his impulsivity. By the time he pulled your panties to the side, slipping two fingers into your tight entrance, you were already wet, already waiting for something new, something more. “That’s my girl,” Satoru muttered as he slid his ring and middle digits into your dripping cunt, only stopping once he was knuckle-deep. “Always so bratty until you get something inside of you. It was a good thing I found you when I did, before someone else realized just how easy it was to get you all soft n’ pouty.”

His fingers curled upward, scissored apart, and you let out the smallest, weakest possible whimper – quickly cut off by a bubbling, half-choked moan. Your eyes darted to the second door; he’d been decent enough to lock the one you’d come through, but there was another, leading into a hallway that must’ve connected the disparate classrooms. It didn’t have a window, meaning you wouldn’t be able to see if someone walked by, wouldn’t be able to know you’d been caught until it was too late to tell Satoru to stop – not that he’d listen, even if you did. Rather than drown out the feeling of Satoru’s pumping into you, it only seemed to make the sensation of his fingers battering against the walls of your cunt more acute, only seemed to heighten the awful pressure starting to mount in your core. You buried your teeth in your bottom lip, shut your eyes and buried your face that much deeper in his shoulder, but no amount of self-suppression could stifle the slick, lewd noise of his fingers thrusting into you. No amount of self-loathing could convince Satoru to shut up, no matter how strongly you willed him to choke on his own tongue and die.

“I don’t think you were taking me seriously – about the whole engagement thing, I mean.” His voice was airy, almost distant. It was the same way he’d talk to you over breakfast, or when he insisted on resting his head in your lap as he told you about his day and you half-heartedly pretended to listen. “I meant it, y’know. I’ll have to do something more romantic for the actual proposal, but—” He paused, laughed. You felt his lips ghost over your cheek, then the corner of your jaw. “I meant it. Couldn’t stand the idea of putting it off any longer, ‘specially not when I already knew that you were going to say yes.”

Whether he was speaking out of narcissism, cruelness, or genuine delusion, you couldn’t tell. You didn’t want to know. All you could seem to focus on was the terrible heat of his affection, all you could seem to do was whimper through grit teeth as he forced another finger into your hyper-sensitive cunt. “We’ll have to get married, too. I wanna do it as soon as possible – fuck, I wouldn’t mind being able to call you my wife today.” You stiffened, shook your head, and Satoru huffed, amused. “Right, right – gotta pace the good stuff out. That’s why I love you so much, babe. If it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have time to breathe.”

A ragged sob escaped your pursed lips as you came undone around his fingers. He nursed you through your climax, only drawing back after you’d gone limp against him. There was another kiss, this one to the corner of your mouth, before his lips found yours – his touch suddenly gentle, featherlight. Your head fell to his collarbone as he straightened his back, but you were beyond the point of caring. You let your eyes fall entirely closed, sinking into him. At least, if someone walked in now, you’d be able to write it off as Satoru comforting you after a sudden bout of heat exhaustion, or a purely romantic (albeit, uncomfortably intimate) moment between a man and his—

His captive.

You could last a few more days before you fully submitted to the role of his fiancé.

You opened your mouth, unsure as to what you wanted to say but aware that you couldn’t stand to sit in silence for any longer, but anything you might’ve said was swiftly and callously drowned out by the sound of rustling fabric, the weight of a hand on your hip while another positioned Satoru’s now-free cock against your entrance. For a moment, you thought about attempting to shove him away. For a moment, you thought about screaming and hoping someone was close enough to hear you.

Then, he thrust into you, and you couldn’t do anything at all.

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 4; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2, part 3 tags: dubcon/noncon, nsfw

-

Much of Ghost’s behaviour is reactive. Oddly passive for the assumptions people often make of him. He doesn’t run from trouble, but certainly he doesn’t seek it out. Aside from a few rare deviations from the norm (running his father out of the city at eighteen, not breaking enough bones to count as restitution, and finally leaving home to enlist), that remains the rule. 

The way Johnny mopes for days after parading his bird around base has Ghost nearly rolling his eyes, already exasperated. He should’ve known his puppy wouldn’t share well. 

It’s worse than he expected though. Johnny mopes for a week straight after the fact, hardly able to meet Ghost’s eyes in briefings. He stares straight down at the floor pathetically, dragging his feet behind him when he’s dismissed. Price notices it right away, raising an eyebrow at Ghost after Johnny leaves the room. 

“Trouble in paradise?” he asks, leaning back in his chair, hands folded over his stomach.

“In the dog house, I reckon. His girl’s pissed at him.”

“Your doing?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Ghost replies smoothly, face giving away nothing.

Price is hardly convinced. “I’m sure. Nothing to do with you.”

Ghost doesn’t answer that. He waits until he’s dismissed and then takes off down the same hall Johnny just left, curious about wherever his boy’s slunk off to. 

He can’t help the latent sadistic streak in him that curls up in pleasure at the sight of Johnny pouting and squirming whenever he walks into the room. Still, his attitude will need to be rectified soon enough—there’s only so much Ghost will tolerate, only so much disrespect he’ll turn a blind eye to. One day Johnny will look back and reflect on this, and appreciate the extent of Ghost’s magnanimity. 

Still, he doesn’t enjoy being ignored. One week bleeds into the beating heart of the next and Ghost realizes that he’s had enough of the silent treatment. He’s given Johnny more than enough time to come to terms with their new situation. 

He tracks him down to the armoury on a Monday evening after most of the other soldiers have already left for the day, back home or eating supper in the mess hall. It’s empty apart from the two of them, and when Johnny finally notices his presence in the room, his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. He doesn’t flinch at least. Good boy. He’s gotten better at being less reactive, less shaky about being caught off guard. 

“Done for the day, sergeant?” He keeps it light to start, taking a step closer. 

Johnny tenses at the approach. “Yes, sir.” The title would usually satisfy on its own, but it comes strained, polite but removed. 

“Where’d you come from?”

“Layouts and gunners training, sir.”

On any other day, Johnny’s deference might come as a lovely note to end the day on, but not today. It rankles now, the edge of his voice sweetened by a kind of silent dismissal, not giving any more information than what’s required of him. Nothing like the boy who used to open his mouth and sing the world back to him. Ghost has earned his every thought. 

“We have a problem, Soap?”

“No, sir,” Johnny grumbles, still not meeting his eyes. His mouth barely moves when he says the words, teeth all but grit. 

No dealing with this temper tantrum like adults then. For all Johnny must carp and bitch to himself about the hardships that Ghost has put him through, he seems to have no desire to actually deal with the problem. That’s too bad. It would’ve been easy enough to talk it out like grown men.

They’ll have to come to terms some other way.

“Come. We’re fixing this attitude of yours now,” Ghost grunts, turning before Johnny has the opportunity to complain and marching down the hall towards the gym. 

He hears Johnny make a sound like an angry bull before following him down the hall. The loud footfalls against the tile floor betray his simmering anger; it reveals to Ghost what he already knew intuitively. His boy still needs to learn to play well with others. 

In time, this anger will fade into the ether, replaced by Johnny’s old doggish need to please Ghost, but it’s causing too many problems now to be tolerated. He hasn’t gotten to see the bird since the week before. Doesn’t even have a photo of his own to look at when he rubs one out. It would be less aggravating if Johnny were willing to spread his legs and let Ghost rut between his thighs, but they aren’t there yet.

The gym is empty as it usually is around early evening when Ghost opens the door, the lights off from whoever last used it. Johnny follows him sullenly, dragging his feet about it. Ghost’s eye ticks at the show of attitude persisting into this space.

“Lock it behind you,” Ghost says without looking back at him, crossing to where the mats are on the other side of the gym. 

Neither of them are dressed to spar, still clad in their fatigues, but his blood cranks up to boiling when he turns around to watch as Johnny crosses the room angrily, picking up steam now as well. He comes in hot, not even bothering to suss out Ghost’s first move before launching himself at him. 

Ghost staggers back a step at the hit, but he takes it in stride, shifting his weight and using Johnny’s momentum to throw him off, sending him sprawling. He’s quick to get back to his feet, but that moment of carelessness gives Ghost everything he needs. The next time Johnny throws himself at him, Ghost lets him get an arm around his leg and nearly grins to himself when he feels Johnny put all his weight into trying to flip him. 

He knows strength isn’t everything, but there’s something to be said about the several inches and even more kilos he has on Johnny. That plus a decade’s worth of experience. Sparring devolves into a sweat-slicked grapple, Johnny’s shirt coming untucked and rucked up, his hair mussed. He tries to go for the mask, eyes gleaming with a wet, savage glint—forgetting decorum or tact, and just going for the most underhanded maneuver. 

He pays for it when Ghost takes him hard to the floor, catching him with a leg sweep that he might’ve been able to avoid if he were fighting with a clear mind. Anger makes him sloppy though. 

“Fuckin’ bastard—” Johnny grunts when he hits the floor, narrowly avoiding clipping his chin against the mat. 

“Folks never married, so guess you’re right,” Ghost remarks, unbothered. Hardly winded even, only the lightest sheen of sweat on his brow, obscured by the mask. 

His sudden divulgence makes Johnny falter. So rarely does Ghost open even a crack that the momentary honesty catches him off guard, giving Ghost the opportunity to wrangle him into a tight hold. 

Pinning Johnny isn’t an easy task because the kid fights dirty when he feels cornered. Lashes out wildly with his fists when Ghost gets an arm around his neck and holds him in place, less precise than when he’s coolheaded, but still brutal, all raw strength packed behind his punches. He twists Johnny over onto his stomach when the boy tries to buck him off, slamming him down hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

“Gonna tell me what’s got you all riled up now?” Ghost asks, twisting Johnny’s arms behind his back to pin him in place. 

He struggles in Ghost’s hold, trying to find a weak point. The search is fruitless. Ghost’s body weighs him down like a boulder pinning him flush to a dirt-streaked mountainside, forcing the air out of his lungs when he presses down harder. 

“Ye cannae just take her from me—” he spits out, face flushed. He kicks out a foot, trying to free himself, but all Ghost does is shift slightly to press his shin to Johnny’s calf, holding it down. “I told ye she was different and ye had to—and now she willnae even fuckin’ talk to me. Barely texts me, willnae answer my calls. I cannae—I can’…” 

His voice trails off on a hitch. Not quite a sob, but a frustrated, wretched sound. 

“Held that in for a while, didn’t ya?” Ghost murmurs, holding Johnny down with ease when he struggles again, trying to wrench his arms out of Ghost’s hold. 

“I almost fuckin’—almost just fuckin’ gave her to ye,” Johnny says, shame thick in his voice. “Thought maybe it wouldnae be worth…jus’ dinnae want a girl coming between us. But she’s—I told ye, Lt, she’s special, I cannae jus’—I cannae jus’ let her go. And now she doesnae want anythin’ to do with me.”

Ghost doesn’t bother pointing out the absurdity of that statement. As if Johnny could give him something that’s already his. 

“Not trying to steal your bird, Johnny.” He taps Johnny’s cheek, a little reprimand. It makes him blink and scrunch up his nose. “What’d be the point of that?”

He forgets how young Johnny is sometimes, just now nearing the end of his twenties. Still wet behind the ears, all blood flushed and pink cheeked. Green still to the realities of the world and Ghost’s presence in his life (permanent, fixed; unchanging). 

There isn’t a version of him that wants someone who doesn’t also want Johnny. Inconceivable. After everything that they’ve been through together, the root of him and what he wants is inextricably tied with what Johnny wants—at times, Ghost almost wishes he could live inside his head, just a constant stream of Johnny’s thoughts into his. 

Johnny twists his head enough to glare over his shoulder at Ghost. “The fuck are ye on about? Ye grabbed her ass in front of God ‘n everyone, for Christ’s sake. Said your intentions loud ‘n clear.”

“‘Course I did. She’s got a nice arse, doesn’t she?”

“You’re really startin’ to fuck with my head, Ghost, I dinnae understand what ye—”

“You keep running your mouth off about trying to take the girl from you—I don’t need to take anything.” He stresses the word to be clear, forcing Johnny back down when he tries to buck Ghost off again. This time he stays in place, both calves pinned down to the mat, cheek pressed into the fabric when Ghost slots a hand into the scruff of his mohawk, forcing his head down. “Quit struggling—you’re not getting back up. We’re sorting this shit out now so you quit moping around base and giving me a fuckin’ headache.”

“Stop exaggerating—I havenae even opened my mouth around ye in days. I’m no’ doing anything to your head—”

“How the fuck am I supposed to think when you keep running away?”

The air hangs heavy in the wake of his words, the oxygen all but sucked out of the room. 

“The two of you are mine,” Ghost says in a low, harsh voice, the sound making Johnny flinch against the mat. “I’m not asking for just one of you. You’re out of your fuckin’ mind if you think I’d leave you out of this, mutt.”

He’d sooner lose them both, but that’s another scenario that he’d never tolerate. 

With some effort, Ghost tips Johnny over onto his back, holding him down before he can start to struggle again. He keeps his wrists trapped behind his back, forcing Johnny to arch his back off the floor, presenting himself. From his vantage point, it’s easy for Ghost to flick his gaze down and find Johnny’s dick pressed hard against the zipper of his pants, all plumped up from being pinned to the ground. 

“Good, you’re already hard,” Ghost grunts approvingly, rolling his hips down to alleviate some of the pressure building up in his groin. “Haven’t come since she left the other week, I bet.”

Panic flares red hot in Johnny’s eyes, widening when Ghost settles deeper between his legs, his own hard cock unmistakable. “Wait—wait, Ghost—I’m no’—I’m no’—”

It would be a stretch to say that anything softens in him, but a part of Ghost does feel for the boy. He’s been around Johnny long enough to know his persuasion—strictly women with the occasional appreciative glances towards some men. An appreciation he relegates to furtive, guilty glances, holding it inside of him like a nasty secret that he’ll never part with. Too riddled with Catholic guilt and the ease of just playing it straight. 

Ghost has no intention of making it easy on him though. 

He tries to imagine what it might be like if he were on the other end, but for him it’s only ever been cunts and Johnny and the bird. Now just the latter two hold any weight. 

His protests only last as long as it takes Ghost to unfasten their belts and zippers, fishing Johnny’s cock out first. The second his rough hand wraps around Johnny’s length, the words die on the boy’s lips, replaced by a choked off grunt. His balls are full enough to corroborate Ghost’s words—he probably hasn’t come since seeing his girl off the other day, too frustrated and upset to jack off, the ducts shut, working himself up into a frothy mess only for it to slip right out of his hands at the last second. 

Johnny’s eyes roll back when Ghost grips both their cocks in his fist, slicking his hand up with Johnny’s precome. Sweat sluices down the sides of his neck. He looks good with his tongue tied up in knots, thoughts emptying out through his ears in rivulets. 

Even with Ghost’s hand as big as it is, he can’t wrap it all the way around the two of them. Johnny’s come provides a nice glide though, lubricating the underside of his shaft when Ghost grinds up into his fist. 

It spurs him into a kind of ​​protolithic fervour, desperate only to come. The iron rich scent of blood and sweat makes Ghost salivate, eyes drawn to the tender skin of his neck, the flush now riding high, up and over his cheekbones. Lips bitten red, also swollen with blood. In a better mood, Ghost might indulge him, might roll up his mask and lick into the wet mouth hanging open deliciously, teasing him, but there’ll be time for that later. 

He slurs out Ghost’s name when he comes, Simon ripped from his lips like it was dug clean out of his soul. His come splatters across his belly and shirt in thin, watery spurts, the wind knocked out of him again. 

Johnny squirms when Ghost doesn’t let go of their cocks, hand still dragging up and down, mumbling that he’s too sensitive, fuck, lemme go, I cannae—

“I’ll stroke your cock and grab the bird’s ass whenever I feel like it,” Ghost growls down at him, at the end of his patience now. He pants out a ragged breath when his cock throbs at a particularly whorish moan dropping broken from Johnny’s mouth. “I’ll nut in her cunt and make you lick it out if I want. And you’ll fuckin’ thank me for giving you a taste.”

Johnny almost goes nonverbal at that, a leg trying to kick out weakly even though it’s still pinned down under Ghost’s heavy thigh. His dick twitches against Ghost’s, a valiant effort. 

When Ghost comes, it settles in a thick, viscous mess across Johnny’s stomach, pooling around his belly button. It radiates hot down his back, the ache in his lower spine abating momentarily. Can only imagine how much better it would feel balls deep in Johnny’s ass or the bird’s pussy, a wet warmth clutching him tight, legs wrapped around his waist to drag him closer. 

He’ll have that soon enough.

A ragged wheeze is pulled from Johnny’s chest when Ghost drags his cock through it, spreading it over his stomach. It’s worse when Ghost dips his fingers into the mess, a sticky blend of both their come, before bringing his fingers up to Johnny’s mouth, forcing them past his lips and over his teeth and gums. Johnny sputters at the taste, going cross-eyed to look down at Ghost’s hand. 

There’s no time for pillowtalk or soft words though. Even if there were, niceties come out of Ghost’s mouth like a ring of smoke. Still, the thought of the bird not returning Johnny’s calls or texts makes him bristle, his annoyance renewed. His own disinclination to communicate aside—a waste of words as far as Ghost’s concerned, he says more with his actions anyway—none of this works if the girl won’t talk it out. 

Probably pent up, the stubborn thing. He’ll have to sort that out too. It keeps him young at least. 

“C’mon, Johnny,” Ghost says, rising to his feet. He dusts his hands off on his fatigues as if nothing happened, then holds out a hand for Johnny to grab. “Let’s go see our bird.”

[merchen-aeravellae]

Little Princess

Part 1

Yandere Royal Family x Fake Princess!Reader

Warning: yandere, platonic yandere, possessiveness, potion It's my birthday and this is my gift for you, It's 11:59 but it's still my birthday, not edited, tomorrow I will edit it.

The empire is getting ready for the most important celebration of the year. The imperial family is decorating the palace with gold and silver decorations, and diamond gifts are the sensation of the moment. However, a room that has been accumulating dust for years will be the cause of all plans crumbling.

°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●

Yandere family is excited about the approaching date. Their little princess is reaching the age to debut in high society, and they cannot miss the opportunity to show you off to others.

Yandere family has all the servants decorating the castle, and they have the citizens decorating the village not that anyone is complaining. They have turned your birthday into the most important celebration of the year, always celebrating in grand style without skimping on expenses. You deserve the very best, and this year is no exception.

Yandere family is searching for you all over the castle to drag you along to find new dresses for the occasion. However, you are hiding in every possible place to avoid being found. You argue that you already have many dresses, but they don't care; they still want to buy you more.

Yandere family doesn't realize that you're hiding in the library where the history of the empire and the royal family is kept. You usually don't go there, or rather, you're not allowed to be there, which makes it the perfect place to avoid being sought out.

You tried to enter the room, but it seemed locked. However, you had been living in this palace long enough to learn how to open its doors without the need for a key. You quickly closed the door and pressed your ear against it, listening to several pairs of footsteps in the hallway. You didn't move from that spot until you stopped hearing them. You walked around, observing your surroundings; there were dozens of books everywhere, from the tables to the shelves.

You grab several books out of curiosity, but none capture your attention for long. That is until a series of books supported on the highest and furthest shelf from the others catches your eye it seems like they didn't want these books to be found. You use a nearby chair to reach them.

You read the title aloud, 'History and Genealogical Tree of the Imperial Family.' It's the first time you've read a book related to your family's history. Your curiosity overcame you, and you kept reading until you reached the part about your closest family members.

But it seemed that someone had made modifications to the book; someone had tried to cover up a name. You suppose it's yours since the person didn't do a good job, and you could still see some letters that you recognized as your own name. They had placed your sister's name over yours, and you didn't know the reason for that.

You continued reading to find the reason for this change, and finally, you reached the notes. A chill ran down your spine. In the notes, it was written about the true identity of your older sister and how someone else had been occupying her place for a long time. That person was you.

Yandere family doesn't understand your sudden change in personality; now you're thoughtful all the time, and they are sure you've been crying. Initially, they thought that the decorations and dresses were the cause of your sadness – not good enough or expensive enough for you. However, even after changing everything for something more luxurious, you remain the same.

Yandere family is desperate; they don't understand what's happening, searching far and wide without finding a logical reason. They press you until you can't take it anymore, and you confront them for having hidden the truth about your origins for so long.

Yandere family is surprised and horrified that you now know the truth. They waste no time in finding culprits: was it the servants, the guards, a family member? No matter who it was, their head will be displayed on a pike for the crime they committed.

Yandere family try to talk to you and explain the situation, but you refuse to listen. They are so desperate that they get on their knees to beg for your forgiveness, but not even that works to make you glance in their direction. It is at that moment that they devise a plan to uncover the truth and get rid of the culprit.

Yandere family quickly realized the truth; the forbidden library was unlocked, and it seemed like someone had been lurking around. A book that should have been burned long ago lay on the floor in a corner with all its pages crumpled.

Yandere family already have plans to remedy the situation, but they must act as soon as possible. A few days ago, you tried to escape, claiming that you need to find your biological family and seek answers to your questions. Your biological family may start praying that you never find them; if you do, your adoptive family won't hesitate to bury them alive in the depths of the earth so they never see the light of day again.

Yandere family have you locked in your room now, not wanting to take the risk of you trying to escape again, and this time succeeding. They sought out the most powerful witch in the empire to help them fix the situation. The solution is to make you believe it was all a dream. Initially confused, the witch provided them with a potion and detailed instructions on its usage.

Yandere family gave you the potion in one of your meals. They didn't want to do it, but they felt they had no other choice. At first, you refused to eat, but it didn't last long. Accustomed to having a full stomach, a single day of not ingesting anything made you feel sick. Your room was a mess, and you curled up in a corner. Your older sister tried to approach, but you quickly moved away as far as possible. She looked at you with sadness in her eyes, left the food on the bedside table, and left, locking the door behind her. You didn't take long to start eating.

Yandere family worried when you fell ill, even though they knew it was just the potion doing its work on your body and mind. You stayed in that state for days, and they took advantage of the time to remodel the library. They couldn't get rid of the book because it would be too suspicious, so they simply replaced it with a different one. The author who wrote the notes "disappeared" one night, and they never found them.

Yandere family were relieved when you woke up several days later, confused and unsure of the date. You were scared that your family acted as if nothing had happened. Your room was tidy, and the things you broke were arranged without a scratch. They told you that you fainted while trying on a dress for your celebration, and you hadn't woken up since then.

Yandere family know you won't stay still and will search for the family book in the library again, but this time, they are prepared.

You are confused when you read the book with the family tree; your name is alongside the rest of the royal family members, and the note about you taking the place of someone else is nowhere to be found. Was it all a dream? Everything felt so real; now, you don't know what is true and what is a lie.

Yandere family observe your behavior; you no longer reject them, but you also don't get too close to them. It's progress, and they know that sooner or later, you will come to them.

Yandere family are overjoyed when you apologize. At first, they acted confused, but when you explained that you had strange dreams, and that's why you acted strangely these past weeks, they "forgave you" and asked you to continue with the preparations for your birthday to proceed as usual.

Yandere family shed tears of joy and a bit of envy towards the other eyes watching you when they see you descending the grand staircase like an angel meeting its faithful devotees, blessing them with your presence.

Yandere family "They abandoned you, but we can protect you. The world is cruel, and our greatest desire is to safeguard your innocence."

[star-sim]

"nooo! she's taken!" ☆ enha maknaes

☆ non-idol! bf! enhypen maknaes x celebrity! fem! reader ☆ summary: you are a very well-loved celebrity, and your relationship is finally revealed to the public. ☆ genre: fluff, another poor attempt at humor, it's very silly ☆ warning(s)? none! lmk if you'd like to see this w the hyungs! hyung ver.

sunoo ☆

so youre a famous actress

you have your official instagram account

and then your personal one, that you only allow family and personal friends to follow

sunoo, your bf, also has an account on instagram

since most of you friends and family know him, it's not uncommon for him to take your phone and post on your personal account

one of those "hai guys i stole her phone 🤭"

all in good fun

so one night, you and sunoo and cuddling

it was one of those vibey nights

the lights were dim, candles lighting up the room with their orangey hue, light music playing in the background

laying on you and sunoo's shared bed, his face buried into the crook of his neck while you run your fingers through his hair

its honestly so soft and warm and comfy :]

the two of you aren't really talking to each other, just basking in each other's presence

and eventually you begin to doze off

at first sunoo was like "baaaaabee!! why did you stop touching my hair"

but then he realized you were asleep

so after givng your cheek a soft peck, and tucking you into the soft blankets

sunoo physically goes >:]

he takes your phone and decides that he's going to spam your personal account

because tbh he does this a lot and it's funny for everyone involved

sunoo takes very silly pictures of you and him

pictures of you sleeping, ones at very silly angles (ik he takes the most FOUL 0.5s)

on your story he posts them with also very ridiculous captions

theres one of you sleeping with the caption "mimimumuimuiu"

another fisheye lens one of sunoo with the caption "hai i stole [name]'s phone 😈"

but he also posts some sweet ones

like one where you're dozing off in his arms w the caption "she's so cute"

sunoo gets mushy at some point

like his captions go from funny to "im so happy that i get to call myself [name]'s boyfriend, i feel so lucky to be with such a beautiful and talented woman"

that's great!

really!

that's wonderful!

but.

there's just one problem

one

teeeeeeensy

weeeeeeeeeensy

problem

he was using the wrong account.

he was posting all this on your official, business, 7.8 million follower, instagram account.

and not your personal account.

!!!!!

😱😱😱

he doesn't notice until 20 minutes later his phone blows up with articles and text messages

and when he notices

sunoos like OH SHIT

he shakes you awake

and poor boy is so apologetic :(

"baby i'm so sorry i didn't mean to out our relationship like that i should have been more careful-"

but when he explains it to you

you kinda just laugh

and go back to sleep

HELP

sunoo deletes the stories but people already screenshotted them

yeah... so this blows up

i feel like they would become memes

like the ones of you sleeping become reaction memes or even worse part of those tiktok meme slides LMAOAOAO

a lot of people think it's adorable

and you do too

but sunoo is so embarrassed

poor boy

he was writing out entire think pieces on your instagram story oml

OH MY GOD I JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHING TERRIBLE

there's definitely articles that come out about this

and yk how on articles theres a title page with images

one of the images is of you ofc

all these news outlets use your super professional HD MODEL pictures of you

like ones where youre a goddamn SMOKE SHOW, the "who is she?" ones, the ZOOWEE MAMA ones...

and then they use one of the foul images that sunoo takes of himself that are like 3 pixels

like the 0.5 lens ones 😭

nevertheless, there is a happy ending

everyone thinks its so sweet

including you

and when people bring it up on interviews you're able to just laugh about it

<3

jungwon ☆

we joke abt jay and sunghoon and sunoo having mad side eyes

but i think we forget the FATHER of INSANE SIDE EYES

YANG JUNGWON HIMSELF

you're a singer/artist

and you just released a new EP!

on tiktok, you're making promotional videos to promote your new songs

looking like a cutie, popping off, as you always do!

anyways in many of them

you're in front of a glass door

or a mirror

so as youre being an absolute cutie promoting your song, in the background in the reflection you can see jungwon making faces

NOT BECAUSE HE'S MAKING FACES AT YOU

but bc sometimes there's ppl walking by and being judgy

jungwon is giving them mad stink eyes and it's caught in the reflection of your videos

i don't think a lot of ppl notice it until someone points it out

and when they do

theyre like

WHO TF IS THAT 😭

ppl are making tiktoks simply zooming into his face LMAOAOAO

and then a few days later

the paparazzi released pictures of you walking with jungwon, holding hands and on a date

and when ppl see it

theyre like

hmm...

that guy looks a lot like the guy in the reflection...

and then the dots connect

like sunoo, i think jungwon is embarrassed

everytime someone brings it up jungwon hides his face in your neck

and he wears that cute little bashful grin

but honestly it's cute

so just hug him and kiss his lil cheeks and he'll be okay

it kinda becomes viral on tiktok

so you make a few video stitches about it

you stitched the og video that pointed out jungwon's face in the background

your stitch was just a video of jungwon being embarrassed and freaking out

like bro was on the floor, hands in his hair

jungwon was in the trenches sorry 😭

there's another stitch where jungwon explains himself

he's dressed in a suit and tie and speaking so formally like he was making an apology video or something

"i would like to address a recent clip of me making inappropriate facial expressions-"

"babe you don't need to be so formal, it's a tiktok"

"you shant say that, i must do this for this is my will"

BRO WAS FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE ☠️☠️☠️

#freejungwon

riki ☆

youre an actress that's very popular

except some ppl hate you bc they think hating popular people makes them interesting *eye roll*

safe to say.... riki is your NUMBER ONE DEFENDER

like he is the ring leader to all of those [name] stan twt group chats

he's the one leading those discord raids on your hate groups OH MY GOD 😭

he has multiple accounts and he fights every person that dares tarnish your name

twitter is his battlefield and the keyboard is his sword

anyways one day riki is so deep into an internet fight that he GETS DOXXED 😭😭

like it wasn't even graceful

i think he'd make fun of one of your haters

and the hater goes "wanna see something funny? :)"

and BOOM

ADDRESS

IP ADDRESS

FULL NAME

PERSONAL EMAIL

PHONE NUMBER

dont actually dox people guys its not funny

when riki gets doxxed they get his full name right

and the hater, his assailent, and their little posse start searching his name on social media to further dox him

and BOOM #2

THEY FIND HIS INSTAGRAM ACCOUNT

now riki isn't stupid

so his ig acc is private

however.....

the profile picture of his acc is a selfie of you and him kissing

they also did research on him and found out that you and him went to the same high school...

in fact they found miscellaneous pictures posted online of you and him a few years back... holding hands n shit....

OH

SHIT

this goes viral over night

like

its so bad that even news headlines are covering it

"TWITTER USER @[NAME]LUVER1209, HOT ACTRESS [NAME]'S MOST NOTORIOUS INTERNET DEFENDER, IS REVEALED TO BE HER BOYFRIEND 😱😱😱"

i feel like the public's reaction to this would be really light-hearted

like i think mst ppl would be cheering riki on

"he's so real"

"oh my god i think i was mutuals with @[name]luver1209"

"this is what true love looks like"

you have super loyal fans and riki's mutuals so they support you too

except i do think theyd be in shambles, but in good fun

"i just found out [name] has a bf im going to flush myself down a toilet"

"i can't believe she chose @[name]luver1209 when his fancams are so shit... THAT SHOULD BE ME!!!'

"i've been here waiting in line for three years and this random @[name]luver1209 swoops in and takes my woman..."

riki's stan account gains a lot of followers

and so with your permission

he posts a selfie of you and him

probably with a cheeky caption like "KISS MY ASS!!!!"

i feel like people go back and watch old talk show interviews and stuff

and if you zoom in

you'll see riki in the front rows cheering the loudest 😭

bro is everywhere

in the future there's def a moment where like

you're at a live talk show

and the host asks you about the fiasco

and you can literally just point to him in the audience like

"yeah my boyfriend's right there-- hi baby!"

and riki from the audience, behind his phone that he's using to record you like its a fancam, is like "hi baby!" back

i dont think the media even calls him riki, he's stuck as @[name]luver1209 forever

not that he minds

😭😭😭

hyung ver.

[pixiesfz]

on my knees begging for more jessie writing

all I can think of is a frat boy Jessie and I'm internally screaming at the thought of it oh my lord!

plot: Your UCLA volleyball team won the national title and are throwing a party to celebrate

warning: I'm not sure I guess we'll find out but nothing bad, I don't know anything about proper volleyball I played when I was like 11 at school, the club I wrote about is completely made up

You don't even remember hitting the floor after your spike, when you heard the bounce of its landing you knew you had won the championship for your team and they had run to you quickly with hugs and screams.

The arena was in cheers as you saw the opposite team look down at the floor in shame, some of them in tears.

The girls were still picking you up as you saw classmates from the stands walk to the court. Your best friend being one of them.

"Morgan!" you yell out as you get out of your team mates grasp, Morgan runs to you and crushes you in a hug "You did it y/n!" she squealed and you both jumped up and down.

"I did it!" you yelled back as your smile grew.

You did it.

You won the championship.

"Next is your turn" you teased your friend who was wearing her UCLA soccer girls team jumper "We better fucking hope" she joked as you both laughed.

Your captain walked to you both with a smile "You are a fucking gun y/n/n!" she yelled as she rubbed your head "throwing celebration party at Sarah's sorority you in?" she asked and you nodded.

"I think we deserve it" you laughed before she joined in and eventually walked in.

"You can finally meet the soccer girls" Morgan fussed as she grabbed your shoulders and rocked you side to side "I already know most of them Morgs" you laughed "Yeah but not the ones I want you to meet"

"And who's that?"

"Jessie"

You rolled your eyes at your friend "Stop trying to set me up with people" you laughed and she groaned "trust me you'll like Jessie, I promise"

You arrived at the party with Morgan as you got out of the car and looked down at your outfit you had a lace top on that pushed up your boobs and a denim skirt on, Morgan caught your stare and threw you one of your drinks

"You look hot" she encouraged "I know someone who would like it very much" she teased and you rolled your eyes.

"I know her reputation I'm not going to be just another girl she sleeps with," you told her "yeah but I know her personally you will get along trust me y/n" "I don't know what she looks like" you pointed out and she rolled her eyes "she's your type".

You had arrived a little bit late so the house was already packed with UCLA athletes, when you walked in someone yelled out "she's here!" and people clapped around you making you laugh.

"our little winner!" Your captain slurred out as she walked to you and hugged you. You laughed as Morgan smiled "I guess scoring the winning point has it's perks"

The party went on as you were either with Morgan or teammates but you had excused yourself to go to the toilet and when you came back you realized some of the girls from your team had left the space they were in before.

Now you were lost.

You looked around a little bit before a voice spoke up from behind you "who are you looking for?" You turned around quickly to see a girl with short slightly curly brunette hair, she had a drink in her hand and her other hand in her back pocket as she stepped up to you.

"My friends, I left for a little bit and now they're gone" you explained with a shrug of your shoulders, you saw how the girls eyes lingered around your face before coming to a realization "you're y/n" she said and you nodded "yeah you?" you asked

"I'm Jessie"

Morgan was right, she was 100% your type and now you found yourself blushing at the thought. "You're in the soccer team" you said and she nodded now walking closer to you to indulge into a conversation "yeah and your volleyball, congratulations by the way you were great" she complimented and you nodded "thanks did you go?"

"I don't usually go but my teammate said that there would be a very attractive girl playing" she smiled, turning to you and nodding her head back, you followed your eyes behind her to see a lingering Morgan who when you saw her looking ran away.

You would get her back for this.

You looked back at Jessie to see her closer to you and your heart sped up a little bit, you hadn't had enough drinks for this.

"Was your teammate right?" you asked with a smile as you took a sip of your drink "She never usually is but this time she was very right" Jessie said and you tried to ignore her looking you up and down as you blushed and looked away.

You needed to be more drunk.

"Wanna come to the kitchen and get a drink?" you asked "You've already got a drink" she pointed out with a laugh "A little more wont hurt" you smiled before walking off, Jessie quickly following you behind.

When you reached the kitchen you both laughed at the couple making out in the corner as you grabbed a bottle of vodka and looked through the mixers.

"You can make drinks?" Jessie asked as she leaned down on the table in front of you, her arms held together, you couldn't help but faulter at the sight.

It was fucking hot.

"During breaks, I work at a nearby club as a bartender," you said "Which one?" Jessie asked and you laughed "Uhm it's the little one near the end of Rosie Street it's called Incognito" you sheepishly answered as you grabbed a cocktail shaker "You work at Incognito" Jessie asked in shock as you laughed again

"You mean the club where they make all the girls wear the slutty little outfits" she dropped her mouth open "Hey they are not slutty" you defended but you saw Jessie's face and nodded "Okay they are a little slutty but it is good money"

"So just curious when's your next shift?" Jessie asked, lifting herself up and walking around the table next to you "Asking for a friend" she shrugged "Oh definitely" you smiled and shook up the drink you were making.

When you were done you poured the drinks and ignored Jessie's stare.

You didn't want to be another girl on her list but god she was making it so hard.

"Here you go" you said as you passed the drink to her "what is it?" she asked "A sex on the beach"

"Ask me to dinner first jeez," she said making you laugh "You have a nice smile," she said and you rolled your eyes playfully "Well if you stopped smirking I could say the same to you" you said and took a sip out of your drink.

Jessie's smirk grew before shining a great big smile like a second grader and moving close to your face "Like this?" she challenged and you laughed "Okay! Fleming" you pushed her away softly "You have a nice smile" you said and she reacted like she had won an award.

You found your blush never going away whilst you were talking and she never looked at any other girl when they walked by when you could see them obviously staring at her.

You were both sitting on a couch and talking about Jessie's up and coming game when chaos began "Cops!" someone yelled and Jessie grabbed your hand quickly.

You were both aspiring athletes, the last thing you both wanted was to be arrested and have it on your record. "C'mon over here" she whispered as you both turned a corner and found yourselves behind a bush near the sorority.

You both laughed as you saw the couple that were making out in the kitchen walk out with a police officer, turns out the girl was the leader of the sorority.

You and Jessie both lay on the floor and out of sight as she sighed and looked up to the stars "I haven't had this much fun at a party since forever" she revealed and you turned to her "Really?" you asked and she nodded "But I thought-" "That I slept around?" she asked and you looked down at yourself in embarrassment "don't feel bad everyone thinks that" she smiled and you thought that her smile was pretty.

"Why does everyone think that?" you ask and she rolled her eyes "my ex who was pretending to be straight whilst being secret with me told everyone I was" she shrugged "What a cunt" you breathed out before a silence came over you two.

"So you don't want to sleep with me?" You joked and Jessie laughed "Oh no I really want to but I wanna talk first" she smiled and you smiled too

"take me out to dinner first?" you suggested and Jessie nodded. When silence came again you popped your head up "cops are gone" you whispered and Jessie stood up "C'mon I'll walk you back to your dorm" she said and you took her hand.

You were walking down the street as Jessie piped up "Seriously though when is your next shift I wanna see you in that outfit"

"Jessie!"

[maybe-its-5sos]

Beautiful (Cathleen Bate Smut)

Requested: No

Summary: Cathleen can't stop herself after you go to an event looking like that.

Word Count: 1144

Warning(s): Sex, Female reader

She couldn't take her eyes off you, your dress hugging your curves perfectly as you laugh with your friends. Star had invited you to an event with her, she loves showing you off and this was a perfect opportunity. You both dressed to the nines looking as gorgeous as ever.

What she didn't take into account was that some of your friends were also going to be there, pulling you away from her. You weren't far away from Cassie by any means, her hand resting on your hip, but your attention was else where, drink sloshing in your glass as you laugh.

"Hey baby, I think it's time to go," she whispers leaning closer to your ear, you smile and nod as you say goodbye to your friends and finish up the drink in your hand.

"We're leaving early," you chuckle, squeezing Cathleen's hand that is now in yours. "I can't wait any longer, you're too beautiful to resist," she lets you know, winking, a bright blush dusting your cheeks. Cassie starts briskly walking towards the waiting car outside, pulling you with her as you yelp, trying to catch up. "Wait up, I can't walk that fast in these heels," Her walk slows but not by a lot, the door to the car open as you both slide in quickly.

As the driver takes off, Cassie's hand rests on your thigh, rubbing small gentle stripes up and down with her thumb, giving you goosebumps, a wicked look in her eyes. The drive isn't very long, but her strong fingers have made their way higher and higher up your thigh, causing you to clench your thighs together, a wetness spreading in your probably already ruined underwear.

Before you can indulge in your arousal, the car comes to a halt, looking out the window you see the front of your shared home. "Well that was fast." you muse to yourself scootching closer to the door as you had been leaning into your better halves side without even realizing it.

The door opens, Cathleen's hand out reached. She helps you out of the car and without a second to process, she picks you up in a bridal carry, quickly making her way to the house.

The door slams behind her as she disregards her own shoes, quickly taking you to the bedroom. With your heels still on you're a lot closer to being of a similar height.

Her lips crash into yours like a tidal wave, your hands pulling her into you by her hips. She doesn't put up any resistance. Soon the back of your legs touch the bed and you both come up for air. "What's gotten into you?" you ask breathily, not complaining about the intimate situation. "When I saw you in this," she says running her hands up and down your sides "I honestly thought that we should skip the event all together." She informs you kissing your lips once more, her hand gently making it up your inner thigh, the dress lifting with it. The sensation sending a shiver down your spine. "But then seeing you smile at your friends like that....Damn am I lucky to have you, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on." She confesses effortlessly, kissing down the side of your neck, nibbling every now and then. A breathy moan escapes your throat, as you slide one of your hands down her arm, the other gently placed on the back of her neck.

" I think the title for most beautiful is all yours baby," You moan as she makes her way to your collar bones.

Cassie gently pushes you to sit down on the bed, gently caressing your breasts, leaving small love bites before pulling one out of the confinement of your dress all together. Her tongue flicks your nipple causing you to let out a needy moan.

"Don't keep me waiting baby," You beg as she slowly plays with your nipple. "All in due time gorgeous," She says with a smile, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin. Your back arches into her, a moan so desperate leaving your lips.

Her wandering hand finally makes its way all the way to your soaked underwear as she gives your clothed pussy a small rub. " So wet already and we just started." She chuckles, her lips making their way back up to yours, the kiss fervent.

Her hand leaves your clothed cunt, causing you to whimper from the loss of contact. "Open up." Cassie commands, gently pushing on your thighs. You slide your legs open wider, as her finger hooks around your panties. She pulls them off in one swipe.

She kisses up your ankles, gently nibbling on your sensitive inner thighs as she makes her way to your weeping cunt. She licks a strip up from your hole to your clit a gorgeous moan coming from her. "I'll never get used to how good you taste." She tells you, going to town on your sensitive nub. Your head falls back as she pulls your heeled leg over her shoulder, giving her better access and lapping up all your juices, her skilled tongue working magic on your pussy. As Cathleen works her magic, the pleasure that has been building finally crashes over you with a breathy yet loud moan of your lovers name as your pussy pulsates. Cassie never stops, riding the high while liking up everything you give her. "Even you moaning my name is beautiful," She smiles as she looks up at you thru her lashes.

As your high subsides she moves her face away momentarily. "Hope you didn't think we were done yet, pretty." she says, slowly inserting a finger into you in one smooth movement, before pulling it back out. She sucks off your juices while looking at you, eliciting a moan.

She slowly inserts her finger again, this time her tongue making its way back to your sensitive bundle of nerves. She slowly pumps her finger, loving how your body reacts to her. She pulls your other leg over her shoulder, her movements getting faster.

Soon she ads another digit, curling them, making you feel oh so full. The ocean of pleasure receding again before coming down in a violent tsunami. "Y/n, I love you so much." she Mumbles between licks as she helps you ride thru the wave. she slowly pulls away and puts your legs on the ground gently.

"I don't think I can wear this dress again," you state in a matter of fact manor, causing Cassie to laugh. You grab her by the chin, pulling her up to you, giving her a kiss. It's much sweeter this time around, you can still taste your arousal on her lips.

You shift so she's laying on her back, lips never disconnecting.

"Your turn," you tell her with a wink.

Masterlist

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With love,

-K

[roseghoul26]

Part 2

Javier Escuella x femVirgin!Reader

Synopsis: You and Javier are to attend a party in Saint Denis, hoping to rob the owner of the establishment. Your role is to distract the man while Javier sneaks up to his room, stealing bonds rumored to be worth a good bit. The only problem is, the two of you are pretending to be husband and wife, which would be fine if you weren’t completely in love with the man. Will you be able to muster up the courage to finally confess to him, or will your personal anxieties hold you back from getting what you want?

Tags: fluff, smut, friends to lovers, fem!Reader, reader is described to have longer hair but that’s about it, reader is afraid of intimacy, but like still wants it, unwanted touch (not from javier), unwanted sexual advances (not from javier), non consensual touching (not from javier), basically any noncon stuff is not done by javier, degrading language towards women, first kiss, love confessions, virgin reader, not beta read, angst, unsafe sex

Author’s Note: i realized while writing this that the song “Slut!” by taylor works so well with fic, and i was going to change the title to a lyric from it but i already committed to this title

also, this is the part that contains non consensual themes, but there is not actually assault that happens. if you’re not in the right headspace to read something like that, please skip this fic!

part 1 ❉ part 2

If you had to laugh at one more awful joke, and to continue pretending like you were oh so interested in the history of a family’s company, you were going to hurt someone. You were thankful for Javier’s charm, letting him take the lead in most of the conversations, but you could tell that even he was getting exhausted. 

It had been about an hour and a half since the two of you arrived, spending most of your time mingling with the other guests, blending into the crowd as you awaited an opportunity to speak with Lee. But he was apparently a very important man, constantly being whisked away by other people before you could even approach him. He was constantly moving between floors, meaning that even you had to get his attention for a good while to allow Javier a chance to get into his room.

The two leaned side by side at the bar now, each of you nursing a small glass of some brandy. He had his arm around your shoulders, and you observed the crowd with disinterested eyes. Lee was currently in conversation with two other men, and he had been for the last ten minutes. 

Your feet were aching, and the corset was tiring, but it did its job as a distraction. More often than not, you watched men’s eyes roam over your body as Javier talked, and they seemed more eager to answer his questions and engage, if you didn't have a bit longer to look at you. It made you feel disgusted, but you could handle it for a night. But, thankfully, no one had laid their hands on you, mainly because your ‘husband’ was beside you most of the night.

The man beside you bent towards your ear, voice barely audible over the sounds of the party. “Are you doing alright?”

You smiled half-heartedly. “I’m ready to be done.”

“You and me both,” he chuckled dryly. 

“I will say, it’s much more bearable because of you.”

He didn’t respond, but he pulled you in closer. Because his arm was across your shoulders, he had access to exposed skin, and you felt him lightly dance his fingers across it. It felt quite nice, and you felt yourself begin to unwind. 

That was until you watched from across the room as Arthur raised his hands up, in a heated disagreement with another man. You nudged Javier, gesturing over to Arthur with a nod. “I swear, we can’t bring him anywhere.”

Javier laughed. “That we can’t. I’ll be right back, mi amor.” Kissing the top of your head, he removed himself from you, and you felt cold at the lack of contact.You already missed his hands on you, and despite what you believed, the growing fire inside of you didn’t cool down at all when he stopped touching you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? As he made his way toward the cowboy, you heard him begin to defuse the situation; his honeyed words could cool down even the most aggravated people.

As you watched, trying and failing to keep your eyes off the way his hips swayed as he walked, a new presence made themselves known beside you, on the opposite side of where Javier once stood. Taking a sip of your drink, you glanced up at the new figure, nearly choking on your drink when you saw who it was. 

“You enjoyin’ the party, ma’am?”

“I am, Mr. Reginald.” Time to turn on the charm. “The name’s Anna. Anna Howard.” You extended a hand towards him, which he took. He kissed the back of your hand, and you were successful in fighting the urge to pull it away. You were able to get a closer look at him, pretending to look interested in him as you did so. He was older, probably around Hosea’s age, with a scrappy white beard that scratched against your skin even through the glove. His longer hair was slicked back, and he had almost unsettling blue eyes that didn’t even bother to look into yours. His white skin was blotched with red, his cheeks ruddy with drink.

“A lovely name for a lovely woman,” he murmured as he straightened, flashing you a smile that you figured was supposed to be appealing. His teeth were partially rotten, and looked the color of turmeric, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath. But he didn’t let go of your hand. “And you can just call me Lee.”

Pushing back your disgust, you smiled back at him. “A pleasure, Lee. You really know how to throw a marvelous party.”

Disregarding your compliment, you watched his eyes flick to Javier, a look of disdain in his eyes. “Is that your husband?”

Following his eyes, you watched as Javier escorted the man that Arthur was arguing with away, but his eyes were on you, an unspoken question in his eyes. Am I good to sneak away? What you didn’t notice was the barely restrained anger, jaw clenching and unclenching as he watched what was unfolding. You nodded, both at Javier and Lee, and you turned your attention away from Javier. “He is,” you laced your words with disappointment, and you could tell he heard it. “Married for two years.”

Before you could react, you felt the hand still grasping yours rip your glove away, a pleased grin on his face as he examined your hand. You let out a shocked gasp, which he took at you enjoying what he just did, his grin turning even larger. “I thought I didn’t feel a ring.”

“Don’t tell him,” you winked. He let go of your hand, shaking his head with a smile while handing you back your glove, which you slipped back on. You were killing this man in your mind, but you forced your face to seem flustered.

“Any children?”

You shook your head. “It ain’t for a lack of tryin’, though.” You laughed, and he joined in as well. He has still yet to make eye contact with you, eyes practically glued to the rest of your body. Pushing your chest forward, you watch his gross eyes widen. Grabbing your clutch from under your arm, you reapplied the rouge, and for once you watched his eyes flick to your face. Popping your lips, you tucked the rouge away, and you saw how he tracked every movement of yours. You had him right where you wanted him. Now you just needed to give Javier about fifteen to twenty minutes, then he’d be whisking you away, Arthur in tow, and then you’d never have to see this man again.

“I’m surprised your husband let you go out in somethin’ like this,” you felt him run the back of his hand against the bodice of your dress, running just under the cup of your breasts. You stiffened under his touch, but you were thankful that his body language comprehension was absolutely terrible, because he seemed to think you were liking it. You saw Arthur begin to approach the two of you, but he stayed close enough away to not interfere with what was happening, but he was ready to do anything if things went south. 

“Actually, he chose it for me, for tonight.”

“So he likes parading his wife around, like she’s a whore.” 

His words had your blood turning cold, your heartbeat hammering in your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to tear yourself away. You steeled yourself, trying to not seem as affected as you were. “Whatever makes him happy.”

He laughed at that. “You like it, no?”

“I-”

“You like havin’ everyone else’s eyes on you, don’t you. I mean, you were practically pushing your tits to my face a moment ago. You that desperate for attention, huh? Your husband not givin’ you enough?” You wanted to roll your eyes. For the love of…

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” you began to cry, a neat little trick you could pull out whenever you felt like it. “Old habits are hard to break, you know?” You elaborated more. “I used to offer my services to men… that’s how we met. He used to be so sweet.” You laughed bitterly. “But, ever since we got married, he hasn’t been treatin’ me right, always seeing’ other women, comin’ home late, and…” you took a moment to breathe, letting a tear escape from your eye, no doubt smuggling the kohl around it. “And he’s left me so unsatisfied. I wish I never married him!” You were playing into exactly what he wanted to hear, and he was hanging on to every word you said.

He cooed at you, demeaning in every sense of the word. “You poor thing,” his hand tugged at your waist, pulling you into him. 

You tried to push him away, arguing that he might see, but he chuckled. “Look around. He’s nowhere to be seen. He’s probably got his hands on another woman right now. Isn’t that terrible?” He pulled you in close to him with a hand on your hip, and you shuddered.

You nodded, looking around for Javier. Just as he had said, he was gone, and you were content with that, the job going smoothly. “What kinda woman am I, who can’t keep her own husband loyal to her?”

“It’s not your fault, sweet thing. I’m not sure how any man could be unfaithful to a beautiful thing like you…” both hands now wrapped around your waist, pulling your back into him. His lips tickled your ear as he whispered to you, and you held back a gag at the stench. “How ‘bout I show you how a real man treats his woman.” You couldn’t even respond before he was pulling you towards one of the stairs by your hand. He had an iron grip on you, and you found yourself unable to pull away. Glancing behind you, you saw Arthur trying to follow you, but he was stopped by a group that were claiming very loudly that they knew him, getting more and more aggressive by the minute. He looked understandably panicked, eyes not leaving you as he tried to push through the group surrounding him. You mouthed I’m alright, despite the panic that threatened to overwhelm you. 

“Right now?” You sounded calm, much to your surprise. He nodded, not even looking back at you. “What about the party?”

“It’ll be there when we’re done.”

Shit. It had only been about seven minutes since the two of you had started talking, not nearly enough time for Javier to be done. And if he was taking you to his room, that’ll probably be where the bonds are located, and, in turn, where Javier would be currently trying to rob him. So much for the job going smoothly. 

But you didn’t want to raise suspicion, so you went along with Lee, keeping as much distance away from his as you could. He kept his iron grip, nearly causing you to stumble up the stairs, your shoes catching on the carpet. His hands were so much worse than Javier’s, demanding and harsh; the hands belonged to someone who didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. 

When you reached the top floor, you let your facade drop slightly, looking around for some exit. Every door looked the same, a deep mahogany, and the hallway seemed to extend to infinity as he marched down it. A thin rug extended down the center of the floor, and so you tried your hardest to walk along the hardwood floor, praying that Javier would hear the approaching noise of your heels. 

Wordlessly, he suddenly halted in front of one of the doors, opening it quickly, pulling you in forcefully. It was at that point you were debating screaming. Would someone come help you? Would they be able to even hear you over the party? Lee was not a large man by any means, old and scrawny, but he still had the upper hand right now. And you didn’t know if he had any weapons on him, and you weren’t too keen on finding out. 

The room, thankfully, was devoid of any other people besides you and Lee. He finally let go of your wrist, and you snatched it close to you, rubbing at the hurt skin. He stepped further into the room, passing by a large closet and dresser that housed a washbin before reaching the bed. Keeping his back turned to you, he slowly began to undress. Now, you debated running out the door behind you. You knew you probably wouldn’t be able to get far, your shoes and dress restricting you from moving easily.

Your mind was made, however, when you saw the closet door creak open, and you barely suppressed a surprised noise. A familiar figure stood hidden in the shadows, various jackets and garments hiding him further, and you nearly cried in relief. It was at that point you noticed the large desk and safe in the corner, your theory that his bonds would be in his room being right. Javier tried to exit, but you stopped him with a panicked look. One slight turn from Lee and he would see. Even in the dark, you could see the conflict on his face, and you held up a finger, telling him to wait. He nodded, and you saw the glint of a blade, which helped to ease your worries. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” Lee’s gruff voice made you jump, and you turned your attention back to him. He still had his back to you, working off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, his jacket discarded on the bed. 

You didn’t dignify him with a response, making your way to the large window that faced the streets of Saint Denis. It was partially open, a cool night’s breeze tickling your skin. “Don’t think about jumping,” you heard him try to joke, but it came out more as a threat. He had sat on the bed as you approached the window, and you heard the wooden frame creak as he got up. You retrieved the hidden blade from your clutch, pulling off the fake comb top. It was a tiny little thing, a needle compared to the hunting knife you saw Javier frequently use, but it could cause some damage if need be. 

Holding it to your chest, your breathing slowed as you heard him approach, floorboards creaking with each slow step. “I’ll make sure you get paid after this.”

“I said I was a working girl.”

He scoffed. “Sure, whatever makes you feel better.” He took another step towards you. “Get on the bed.”

With the assurance that Javier was also in the room, you found yourself surprisingly confident, shaking your head at his question. That pissed him off, and you could feel the anger beginning to roll off of him. Still, you faced away from him, gripping the blade so tightly that your fingers ached.

“It wasn’t a question. Get on the bed.”

“And I said no.”

In surprising swiftness, you felt his fingers grasp at the back of your neck, and you figured he would’ve gone for your hair if it wasn’t pinned up. His fingers had merely grazed your skin before you were spinning around, the blade flying at his face with unrestrained fury. A streak of crimson cut through the air as you hit your mark, the blade running across the entire side of his face, barely missing his eye by a quarter of an inch. He stumbled back a few feet, shocked, clutching the side of his face. 

Blood poured from his fingers, and he looked up at you with hate in his eyes. “You whore! C’mere!” Lee attempted to lunge for you, but was easily stopped Javier wrapped his hand around the face of the man, muffling him as he pulled him down to the ground. His knife pressed into the delicate skin of his neck, pressing so hard that droplets of blood began to appear. A shocked noise that turned into a muffled noise left Lee’s mouth, turning into a cry when Javier dug the knife in deeper. A satisfied smirk graced his lips when he heard Lee reduced to a whimpering mess, and his blazing eyes found yours. 

Ignoring your desire, you sighed in relief, and you let your arms loosen, the blade falling to your side. “What do you want to do with him, mi amor?” Javier sounded almost breathless, and you watched as the blood from Lee’s wound began to coat Javier’s hand. 

A part of you wanted to see him dead on the floor, but you refrained yourself. “Let him live,” was all you said, not bothering to give an explanation, not that you had one; you just didn't want him to die. 

Not yet, that is.

Letting out a sigh that almost sounded like disappointment, Javier adjusted his blade so that it was no longer completely digging into Lee’s skin. “You’re lucky that I listen to what she tells me, cabrón. If she wasn’t here, you’d be long dead. You know what…” Javier moved his hand so that it no longer covered his mouth, but he kept his blade where it was, ready to move if he decided to make a noise. “Why don’t you tell her how thankful you are that she spared your miserable life?”

Lee took a few shuddering breaths, tears mixing in with the blood that streaked down his face. “T-Thank you,” he rushed out, eyes squinting closed as he braced himself for the final blow from Javier.

“And…”

“And?” Lee practically squawked. 

“You said some pretty nasty things to her. Maybe you ought to apologize.” You watched Javier’s jaw clench as he recalled the small bit he heard, and it was evident that he was using every ounce of restraint in his body to not just end Lee then and there. If he knew what all was said to you, then Lee would be lifeless right now.

“I’m sorry!” Lee cried out, and Javier gave an approving noise in response. You couldn’t care less if he apologized to you. Quite honestly, it was much more rewarding watching Javier force the man into submission. You realized watching him like this was turning you on, growing increasingly warmer despite the cold air from the window. 

You needed to speak to a doctor. Or a priest. 

“Very good,” Javier praised, his voice gravelly. “Now that that’s out of the way.” With ease, you watched him flip the knife around his fingers, now holding it in a way that allowed him to bash the butt of it against Lee’s head. He fell to the ground like a sack, body hitting floor with a thud. 

You weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself, too many emotions running through your body. Anxiety still persisted in your brain, reminiscing over all the what ifs and scenarios that could have transpired if Javier hadn’t been in the room. You were grateful that he was here, and there was that feeling in your chest again, increasing with every beat of your heart. And much to your surprise and embarrassment, you found yourself aroused, every fiber of your being needing Javier.

He stood in front of you know, deep concern in his eyes as he regarded you. You watched as he raised his hands up, ready to wrap his arms around you, until he saw the blood on his hand, and realized you wouldn’t want to be touched right now. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Without saying anything, you placed the blade back into your clutch, not bothering to recover it back up. You grabbed the handkerchief instead, and you felt his eyes on you as you grasped his wrist gently with your other hand, pulling it towards you. He had his jacket on still, which did enough to hide the blood that stained his clothes, but a few specks still dotted the white sleeves of his shirt that poked out.

Pulling him toward the wash bin, you dipped the handkerchief into the water before you got to work on wiping away his skin. He tried to protest, but you cut him off with a gentle yet firm look.Javier set his blade on the dresser, and the two of you stood in silence, the only sound your breathing and the occasional splash of water as you redipped the handkerchief into it. The water turned from clear to a rusty brown as you worked, which you watched with rapt attention, scared of how you would react when you looked into his eyes. 

As you dipped it into the water for the final time, Javier finally spoke, his voice still a bit raspy. “Guess you don’t need those knife lessons, then.”

You chuckled, setting the rag down on the dresser as it turned into a loud laughter that shook your body. You weren’t quite sure why you were responding like this, but you figured it was probably shock. You didn’t even register that you were crying until you felt his freshly cleaned hands rest on the sides of your face tentatively, growing more confident when you nodded your consent. He murmured your name softly, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “Mierda, sorry. It was a bad joke…”

“It was funny,” you said through tears. “It’s just… God, I felt so weak. I haven’t felt that scared since… forever.”

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” 

You shook your head, mouth opening to respond, but a fresh wave of tears threatened to overwhelm you. Not trusting yourself to speak, you practically crashed yourself against his chest. Javier cried out softly, startled, as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in close in a tight hug. His familiar scent helped to calm you, and when you felt him reciprocate the hug, strong arms tight around you, you felt your heart rate begin to slow. You're sure your makeup was running on to his jacket, but it didn’t matter now; it was already dirty. 

His fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, and he rested his head on top of yours. You're not sure if he held you for a few moments or a few hours, time seemingly nonexistent beyond the two of you. But of course, reality was quick to catch up with you, the sound of the door being kicked down hardly pulling you from his embrace as you spun around, grabbing the knife on the dresser before Javier could.

Arthur stood in the doorway with his hands up, eyes flicking from the knife in your hands to the man unconscious on the floor, quickly connecting the dots. “Don’t do that shit, Arthur,” you snapped, practically slamming the knife back down on the dresser. “I could’ve hurt you…”

“Are you alright?” He asked, typically not caring for his own safety. He approached you like you were a spooked horse, though, which was quickly annoying you.

“What do you think, you idiot?” A voice behind you interjected, and you felt him slide his hand across you back as he moved around you. His eyes were blazing with anger, getting into Arthur’s space. “What the hell happened?” You watched Javier shove the other man, which he took, guilt evident on his face, but you saw the angry storm clouds begin to roll in behind Arthur’s eyes. 

“You had one job, and you fucked it up!” Another shove, and you watched Arthur’s jaw clench. “You nearly got her assaulted!” Javier's voice had raised significantly in volume, emotion causing his voice to break ever so slightly as he spoke. “How did you-”

“You think I don’t know that?” Arthur finally snapped, which was a hard thing to do. Guilt probably snipped his fuse, and the immediate attack by Javier ignited it. “You don’t think I’ve been fightin’ like hell to get up here?” He scoffed. “It ain’t my fault you asked the most recognized man in camp to tag along with y’all!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” Javier challenged. “You wanna know why, then, you asshole? Because you’re the only one I trust to make sure nothing happens to her,” he snarled, jabbing his finger into Arthur’s chest. “You think Micah, or Sean, or Bill would give two shits if someone dragged her away?” He shook his head with a sneer on his mouth. Arthur didn’t respond, but his silence was all that Javier needed. He took a breath, stepping back a few paces from Arthur. 

“You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to her, right?” Arthur’s voice was soft, which was surprising given the circumstance. “But you know she doesn’t need our constant protection, right?”

Whatever temporary peace that had been created between the two men shattered instantly, Javier getting right back into the other man’s face. “She didn’t even have a damn gun, Arthur. All she had was a tiny knife that could barely hurt a mouse. The only reason she managed to get him,” he pointed angrily at Lee, not bothering to turn his head to look at him, “was because she caught him off guard. And I know she doesn’t need my- our protection. I’ve seen her toss men double her size to the ground with ease, I’ve seen her knockout men with a single punch. I’ve seen it all.” Javier took a deep breath before continuing. “But that was when she was free to move, without having that goodman dress on. She can barely even walk, let alone defend herself tonight.”

“You stepped in before anythin’ could happen.” Arthur tried to reassure the man.

“But what if I hadn’t? What if I had been in another room, too busy robbing that bastard to even notice? What if there had been more than one guy in here? What if he drugged her, or what if I didn’t hear her approaching down the hallway?” Javier began to pace as he ranted, running his fingers through his hair, pulling part of it out of the tie.

As entertaining and endearing as it was to hear them argue about you, you were tired of being talked about like you weren’t even there. Clearing your throat gently, you got their attention, Arthur giving you an apologetic smile. Javier took a little bit longer to catch your eye, having to turn around to do so, but you watched as the fire in him immediately fizzled out as he looked at you, any anger left in his body leaving in a final shaky exhale. 

You smiled gently, folding your hands in front of you. You had taken your gloves off during their disagreement, the garments becoming wet while you cleaned Javier’s hands, and you had tucked them away into your bag. You watched as his gaze went down to your intertwined hands, a smile about to grace his own lips before it was overtaken by a shocked gasp.

Everyone’s eyes in the room followed where Javier was looking, with similar reactions across the board. Where Lee had gripped you was an already bruise in the shape of his hand, encompassing almost the entirety of your wrist. You hadn’t realized he grabbed you that hard. Looking back up, you saw an outraged look on Arthur’s face, but it was nothing compared to the sheer hatred and disgust on Javier’s. You were grateful that you still had his knife by you, or else Lee’s blood would be spilt right now. 

A combination of curses and Spanish left Javier’s lips as he pulled away from Arthur, finally giving the other man space. You expected him to make his way over to you, which he started to do, but he halted a few steps in. Confused, you cocked a brow at him, and he just shook his head, backing away backwards toward the door. “I’m gonna get the carriage,” you heard him mutter, eyes fixated on the bruise on your wrist as he continued to back away. 

“Javier-” you tried to stop him, but it was clear he wasn’t in the right headspace to listen. 

“I’ll see you in a minute, mi amor.” And with that, he left you and Arthur alone in stunned silence. 

Trying to not seem too upset, you forced a smile on your face, which probably looked as pained as it felt. “Do you think he got the bonds?” You asked, and the other man looked confused. “You know, the thing we came for?”

Recognition flashed across Arthur’s face, and he shook his head. “Don’t think so. Didn’t have enough time, probably. Why?” You briskly made your way over to the safe, getting down on your knees ready to begin cracking it open. “After all that, you’re still worried about the bonds?” Arthur asked in disbelief. 

“After all that, I ain’t returnin’ to camp empty handed. Now, tie him up for me,” you gestured at Lee, and Arthur nodded. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, but he still complied, and you rolled your eyes before preparing yourself to get to work. You weren’t an expert at cracking safes by any means, but you could get it done with enough time. The metal was cold against your face as you pressed it against it, listening to the inner workings of the safe. You were able to see Arthur move out of the corner of your eye as you began to turn the dial slowly, listening for the telltale click. 

It was when Arthur finished tying up the man that you heard the first click, and you glanced down to see what the first digit of the code was. 

34. 

Moving the dial to the right, you felt Arthur watch you while you worked, but you paid him no mind. That was until you heard him talk, nearly causing you to jump because of how focused you were on the safe. “You know, I haven’t seen Javier that angry in years. He used to be filled with hate and anger toward the world, but it died down as the years passed.” 

You merely hummed along, not fully paying attention to his words. Another click hit your ears, and you took a mental note of the next number. 28. Arthur continued. “I’m still surprised he’s still callin’ you that, like you don’t know what it means.”

Your curious eyes flicked to him, and realization dawned on his face. He laughed with an almost childish grin. “You don’t know what it means, do ya’?”

You sighed. “No, ‘cause everytime I ask, no one tells me! Especially you! Now, hush. I’m tryin’ to concentrate.” Arthur left you alone then, and you continued to turn the dial slowly to the left, waiting to find the final digit for the safe. 

Finally, the third click rang throughout the room, the final digit being 4. The safe door creaked open, exposing its contents to you and Arthur. Inside contained a stack of papers, which you assumed to be bonds, a few clips of cash, and a small gold ingot. With a satisfactory smile, you gestured for Arthur to bring you your clutch, which he did. You pulled the gloves out, quickly slipping them back on even though they were wet. All paper items went into the bag (and you were sure to make sure the blade did not wreck them), and you took the ingot into your own hands. It always caught you off guard, how heavy gold ingots actually were. 

You stood up, heading over to the dresser and grabbing Javier’s knife while handing Arthur the gold ingot, which he stashed away. Where, you weren’t quite sure, but it disappeared from sight. You had just enough room to place the knife in your bag, the thing barely closing before you tucked it under your arm. You left the soiled handkerchief on the dresser, and you started to move towards the door before Arthur’s voice stopped you. “He’s callin’ you ‘his love’.”

“What?”

“Mi amor,” Arthur’s Spanish wasn’t even comparable to Javier’s, but it was understandable. “It translates to ‘my love’.”

You were stunned, blinking back at him with wide eyes. “You’re kiddin’ me.” Arthur shook his head. “This entire time he’s been callin’ me-” you cut yourself off, rubbing a hand down your face, being careful to not smudge the makeup completely. “So you mean to tell me, that instead of me livin’ in constant doubt about how he felt about me, I could’ve known, but you and everyone back at camp refused to tell me?”

Arthur rubbed nervously at the back of his neck, guilt once again eating away at him. He didn’t respond, so you laughed bitterly. “Now I’m startin’ to regret that I didn’t end up hurtin’ you earlier.” Huffing angrily, you didn’t spare either Arthur or the man tied up on the bed a glance, quickly reaching the door in angry strides. “C’mon. I wanna leave this damn place.”

Arthur didn’t need to be told twice, following behind you as you marched down the hallway and back down the stairs. It was easy to slip away from the party, everyone was too drunk or too busy in conversation to notice. The silence outside was a complete shock to your system, your ears ringing loudly as you took a deep breath. 

Just like he said, Javier was waiting beside the carriage, eyes following you as you descended the stairs. It melted any cold from the night, and like in the party, you felt that need for more grow inside you. You felt Arthur move behind you, cutting across the front lawn to reach his horse. As you reached the carriage, Bill’s voice broke the silence. “You get the whiskey?”

Shit. “No, I’m sorry. Things went bad in there.���

Bill sighed, disappointed, but he didn’t speak further. “Here,” you dug out one of the clips of money, practically having to toss it at him, “it ain’t whiskey, but it’s just as good in my opinion.”

The corners of his mouth tugged up, and you knew that he accepted your new gift, tucking it away into his jacket pocket. Javier uncrossed his arms once you were within reach, once again helping you into the carriage. You could practically feel the tension from him, his entire body tightly coiled as you settled into your seat.

Again, you expected to follow in behind you, but he was quickly shutting the door. You stopped it with your hand, and he stopped immediately. “You’re not comin’ in?” Your voice was dispirited, and Javier frowned as he shook his head once. 

“You don’t want-”

“Don’t tell me what I want, Javier.” You cut him off, shocking yourself with your directness. “Get in here.”

Wordlessly, he obeyed, sitting across from you again. It looked like he had a thousand things to say, but he remained silent. Bill almost immediately took off, but you better prepared than last time, managing to not lurch forward. To say the air between the two of you was awkward would be an understatement, and you found yourself looking out the window, watching the streetlights as you passed them. 

After about a minute of silence, you saw Javier shift out of the corner of your eye, so you refocused your attention on him. “I’m sorry,” you heard him murmur, barely audible over the hoofs of the horses and the sound of the wheels rolling over the cobblestone. 

“Javier, you couldn’t have known that would happen,” you sighed, wanting nothing more than to take his hand in yours. “And I knew that things could go bad tonight.”

“It’s not that. Well, I am sorry about that, I’m not sayin’ I’m not, but-” he paused for a moment, recollecting his thoughts. “I’m sorry about the way I acted. And for talking like you weren’t right there. And for implying that you couldn’t protect yourself. I’m sorry, for all of it.”

“I’m not the one you should be apoligzin’ to,” you laughed lightly, and you felt successful when you saw a light smile on Javier. “And emotions were high tonight, and even the best of us snap sometimes. And you weren’t completely wrong about the dress,” you adjusted the bodice of said dress, trying and failing to gain more room to move.  “But, thank you. It… it means a lot.”

A lot of the tension dissipated from Javier as you accepted his apology, leaning back against the back of his seat finally. He had taken off his jacket while he was gone, leaving him only in his vest, necktie and undershirt, and the sleeves had been rolled up, hiding the splotches of blood from view. Even in the dim light, you were able to clearly see the definition of his forearms flexing against the shirt, even more so when he crossed his arms against his chest. 

Thick veins traveled down his hands and arms, and you couldn’t stop the thoughts of what those hands might be able to do to you from running through your head. It surprised you, having these thoughts. If you had had these thoughts days, or even hours ago, your mind would be spiraling into a panic. Instead, you found your mind spiraling into lustful thoughts, and you found yourself having to look away, cheeks growing warm. 

Javier didn’t seem to notice your staring, too deep in thought to do so. After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke again. “Why didn’t you have me kill him?” Anger flashed in his eyes at the thought of the other man, but he kept in check.

You still weren’t quite sure, and you voiced that to Javier. “I think I didn’t want you to because I was having a good night, and watching someone die kinda ruins that.” If your words were blunt, Javier didn’t seem to care. 

“A ‘good’ night?” Javier looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “Mi amor, if that’s your idea of a ‘good’ night then…” he trailed off.

Now knowing what he was saying, you felt your heart skip a beat. You should’ve realized a long time ago what it meant, you realized. His voice was always filled with adoration when he said it, and a bashful yet cocky smirk would follow. “Besides the last twenty minutes,” you laughed. “I was having a good night because I was with you, my love.” It felt like a confession, and you kept your voice low, but you were sure to add extra emphasis on the final two words.

Javier’s eyes widened, forearms flexing as he readjusted his crossed arm. “Finally figured it out, then?” He teased, but there was an underlying panic in his voice, not aware if you liked it or not. 

You nodded, diverting your gaze as you prepared for your next question. “Do you mean it?” Your voice was small, vulnerable.

Javier responded with a confused noise. Shifting nervously, your hands felt clammy under the gloves. “Do you mean it when you call me ‘my love’? ‘Cause I know you like me, and that’s great…  but I want to know.” Do you love me? You breathed shakily. Why was this so hard? 

Silence fell over the carriage, and you dared to look back at the man across from you. His arms now rested on his elbow, and when he noticed your attention was back on him he smiled, extending a hand for you to grab. When you did, he covered it with his other, kissing the back of it before doing so. You almost wished at that point that you hadn’t put your gloves back on, wanting to feel his lips against your skin. 

“I said I would never lie to you, and I mean it. I never said anything to you that I didn’t believe.” He shifted closer to you, your knees pressing against each other. “I mean it, every single time. I…” It would’ve been funny, in any other context, to see Javier at a loss for words. “I know there are thousands of different ways I could say this, but I can’t remember a single one. It’s like my brain just turns off whenever I’m near you,” he chuckled.

Your heart was hammering so loudly in your chest that you were sure Javier could hear it. It burned where your hands were connected, but it was a delicious pain, one that you never wanted to be rid of. It was reassuring to know that you weren’t the only one who got nervous around the other, then. 

“So, I guess I’ll keep it simple, then. I love you, and, if you’ll have me, I want… you. I want to be by your side, through the good and the bad. I want to wake up by your side, your voice the first thing I hear every morning. I want to know your thoughts, your fears, your desires.” He sighed, smiling. “I, well, I guess all that was to say I mean it.”

You expected to feel a sense of dread, some sort of anxiety over your changing relationship, and what that could possibly lead to, but you found none. Before you could even register what you were doing, you were leaning into him, pressing a light kiss against his cheek. It wasn’t long, lips barely there for even a second before you were leaning away. You gasped slightly when you saw the red mark left there by you; apparently you still had more makeup on than you thought. Between curses and apologies, you began to wipe it away with your cloth covered thumb, which seemed to just smear it around. 

A light tug at your hand had you stopping, your name being said softly focusing your attention back on to the man. He didn’t seem to mind that your lipstick was now on his face, and his eyes were filled with unbridled love as they danced across your face, before finally settling on your lips, then back up into your eyes. His hand was no longer holding yours, instead it was trailing up your arm, up your neck, finding purchase on the side of your face, holding you with such reverence that it almost brought tears to your eyes. 

His eyes went back down to your lips, a soft plea in his gaze. “Let me kiss you,” Javier asked, restraint pulling his voice down an octave. Slowly, you brought your hand up, brushing away a few strands of hair that had been pulled from the tie. His eyes closed at your touch, a pleased noise escaping his mouth. Those same eyes opened when he felt you nod, and you hadn’t realized how easy it was to get lost in them until this moment.

He closed the distance between the two of you, thumb brushing your cheek as your lips finally connected. It felt like everything finally clicked into place, like the final piece of a puzzle. Everything felt right, and you sighed happily against his mouth, resting your hands on his thighs.

It was a short kiss, merely testing the waters, with Javier pulling away first. He rested his head against yours, simply savoring the moment. A quiet, giddy giggle left you, causing Javier to raise a brow. “It’s nothin’… I’m just happy.” It was almost childish, the reason you were really giggling, but who wouldn’t be happy after their first kiss.

“Good,” he murmured, before a concerned look crossed his face.

“What?” You asked, immediately thinking the worst. 

“It’s your lipstick.” The thumb that was on your cheek shifted to your lips, running against the lower one.

“What about it?” You had no idea where he was going with this. 

“It’s not nearly wrecked enough,” he lamented, and you felt his thumb pull your lip slightly, causing the rouge to smear. 

“Are you gonna fix it, then?” You challenged, slowly running your hands slowly up and down his thighs. You’re not sure where this sudden burst of confidence was coming from, but you weren’t complaining. All you knew is that you wanted his mouth on yours again. 

“Gladly,” Javier purred, pulling your face to him as he kissed you again. Instead of simply holding his lips to yours, you felt him begin to move this time. It was messy and passionate and it had your head spinning. Gripping on to his legs tighter, you were able to ground yourself. That was until you felt his tongue run against your bottom lip.

You gasped, pulling away an inch to give yourself a moment to breathe, all the foreign sensations causing you to become breathless. Javier, with some visible restraint, didn’t chase after you, giving you a moment to collect yourself. It was at that point that you felt that you almost had a death grip on the man’s legs, and you let go with a soft apology. 

He paid it no mind, and you felt his hold on your face lax a bit. “You’ve never kissed before, have you?” He wasn’t anywhere close to being rude about it, but the question still had your blood running cold.

Embarrassed, you felt your face flush even more. You tried to pull away, but he kept you close. You shook your head, not wanting to admit it out loud. “Was it that obvious?” You mumbled, quite upset. Javier went to respond, and you braced yourself for the words that your brain trained you to expect. 

What you weren’t expecting was him to be smiling at you, thumb rubbing reassuringly on your cheek again. “I only noticed because you seemed less confident,” Javier explained, with no hint of judgment in his voice. “I guess we need to practice some more, then,” he added with a playful grin. 

“I love you,” you whispered, before your hands were grabbing both sides of his face and smashing his lips against yours, both of you smiling into the kiss. Any remnant of anxiety about him vanished as you kissed him, feeling more relaxed than you’ve felt in a while. You pulled him toward you as you sat back in your seat, ignoring the way that the bodice of your dress pressed uncomfortably into your skin. You couldn't be bothered to feel it; all that your senses could feel was him. 

He followed as you brought him close, getting on his knees on the carriage floor as he kept his lips locked on yours. Even despite being on the ground, his face was still relatively level with yours, if only a few inches lower. You felt him settle between your legs, at least as best he could with your skirt, hands resting on your hips. 

Unlike the other two kisses before, this one had a secondary intent behind it, and you felt that fire in your core return, arousal making you dizzy. You wanted more, and you’re sure that Javier was more than eager to give it to you. One of the hands that grasped his face moved behind him, discarding your gloves to somewhere in the carriage before quickly undoing the tie that held his dark hair in place, causing it to fall around his head. Greedily you ran your fingers through it, a pleased groan felt on Javier’s lips as you combed it. 

A nip from him had you gasping, offering him an opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth. The act surprised you, inadvertently causing you to grasp his hair, pulling the strands into a fist. You felt him moan in response, the hands on your hips squeezing tighter, but he didn’t move them. Pulling him impossibly closer, you tried your best to keep up with the quick movements of his mouth, moving your lips in tandem with his. You were always a quick learner, anyway.

An aggressive jolt from the carriage forced the two of you to separate, gasps and pants filling the silence. Moonlight filtered in, and you were able to see Javier clearly now. You realized you had never seen him with his hair down before, and beautiful wasn’t even close to the right word to describe him. He looked ethereal, and he was all yours, making your heart thrum happily in your chest. 

“You should have your hair down more,” was all you said, smoothing your hand over it. It was soft, well taken care of, and you wanted to keep your hands in it forever. 

“Whatever my girl wants,” he responded, pure bliss on his face. You didn’t even bother to hide the happy noise that left you when you heard him call you his girl. 

Glancing down at his lips, you saw they were practically the same color as yours now, smeared messily across the lower half of his face. You’re sure you looked just as bad, and you registered that it would be hard to hide what the two of you got up to from the rest of camp. But you found that you didn’t care that much. 

An image flashed in your head as you watched him; his exposed chest covered in your kiss marks, from his neck to his hips, a pretty ring of red rouge around his cock. The thought  had you subconsciously rubbing your thighs together, trying to ease the growing tension that was starting to become unbearable, but it was hard to do when there was someone between them. 

Javier honed in on the movement immediately, working at his bottom lip as he stared up at you with blown out eyes. “More?” He asked, the word sounding breathy. 

You nodded, carding your fingers back through his hair to pull him back to you. After meeting you for a quick kiss, you felt him travel down your jaw, peppering kisses along as he did so. You laughed lightly when you felt him move to your neck, the soft prickle of his facial hair tickling you, and he smiled against your skin. 

The hands of your hips began to explore now, one rising up your front, touching lightly over the bodice, causing you to shiver. His other hand traveled downward, down your thigh and past your knee, until it was wrapping around your calf. He wrapped your stocking covered leg around his back, causing your shoe to fall off in the process, hitting the floor with a dull noise. 

Satisfied, the hand on your leg moved to join the other, stopping once he reached the underside of your breasts. Instead of running his hands over the mounds, he bypassed them completely, running his hands across your shoulders delicately. For the first time, his bare hands were on your skin, and it was everything you’d ever wanted. They were deliciously rough, years of hard living making them so, and a number of calluses adorning the tips from playing stringed instruments, but they also felt like silk, rolling across your body like water. It caused another shiver to wrack your body, and he chuckled, vibrations falling from his chest into yours. 

“You’re so responsive,” he noted, his normally smooth voice gravelly. His lips traveled further down your neck, showering your lower neck and collarbones with apt attention. “No one’s touched you like this before, no?” He stated rather than asked, and your silence was a more than adequate answer. “What a shame. They don’t know what they’ve missed.”

“I don’t care,” you said with sheer honesty. “Damn everyone else. I only want your hands on me.”

You felt him pull at the back of your head, pulling you into a searing kiss before pulling away slightly, face mere inches from yours. “Let me make you feel good.” Curious, you gave an inquisitive noise, playing with his hair as you did so. He was already making you feel good, so you weren’t quite sure what he was trying to say.

He let out a small chuckle at your confused expression, pressing a light kiss to the tip of your nose, which was an innocently sweet gesture. His next words were less than innocent, another wave of arousal crashing through you as he spoke. “Let me taste you. I need to feel you fall apart on my mouth.”

You’d be lying if you said that his filthy words weren’t getting you incredibly turned on, but a deep feeling of embarrassment overtook you, and you would’ve turned your head away if you could, but you were forced to just avert your gaze.

“Don’t go getting shy on me now, mi amor,” Javier teased, attempting to get your eyes back on him. “It takes more than a few words to get my girl nervous, hm?”

Laughing mostly at yourself, you finally looked into his eyes, a calming smile greeting you. “So, what say you? Are you going to let me eat you out?” He said it so nonchalantly, like it wasn’t completely turning you into a mess. Forcing back the shame, you nodded, not trusting your voice. Javier wasn’t satisfied, and with a disapproving noise he placed another kiss on your nose, causing you to laugh lightly. “Use your words.”

Javier was giving you a second chance to change your mind, you realized, not wanting you to do something that you would regret. It was a nice gesture, but what he didn’t know was that you made up your mind hours ago; you needed him so badly that it almost hurt. “Please,” you responded, your mouth was moving faster than your brain.

He didn’t respond, smiling gratefully at you, like you just offered him something luxurious. One final kiss met your lips before he was descending your body, trailing back over where his lips had been moments prior. One of your hands tangled in his hair when you felt him ghost his lips across the top of your breasts, grinning when he felt the goosebumps form. He didn’t stay there long, a single goal on his mind as he descended further down. 

When he no longer had exposed skin to kiss, he rested his head by your knees, staring up at you adoringly as his hands continued to travel down. In the back of your mind, you remembered hearing stories from the girls at camp about lovers they had, how they treated going down on a woman like a chore, or how some just outright refused to do. The hungry glint in his eye and the almost desperate touch of his hand told you that you didn’t have to worry about that. 

When he reached your hips, he pulled you forward, forcing you to lean back further in order for your back to reach the back of your seat. If you barely had any airflow then, you had none now, a sharp pain growing in your lungs as you shifted around, trying to get comfortable. Javier quickly noticed this, a concerned frown pulling at his lips. “Dress,” you gasped out, and he quickly got to work unworking the bow and laces that held the corset bodice tight, a pleased sigh leaving you as you felt it loosen its grip on your body. He didn’t undo it completely, the garment still on well enough to keep your body from being exposed, but it was enough that you could get more comfortable.

You didn’t even get to mutter out a ‘thank you’ before he was getting back to it, hands pulling apart your thighs. Your skirt had bunched up when he had pulled your leg around his back, giving him enough room to sneak his head between your spread legs. Your skirt still covered the entirety of his head, only peeks of hair visible to you.

Warm breath caressed your sensitive inner thigh, and you fought the urge to wrap them around his face. Featherlight kisses were felt next, small jolts rocking through you with each touch, increasing in intensity as he reached your aching center. He tugged at the waistband at your undergarments, having you lift your hips slightly so he could peel them away. Pulling them all the way off, he set them somewhere on the seat behind him.

Your hips bucked when you felt him press a kiss to your exposed cunt, humming appreciatively when he felt your arousal, which had no doubt soaked through to your undergarments. “You’re this wet from kissing?” He asked, mostly to himself, and it was barely audible under your heavy clothing, but you felt the need to defend your dignity. 

“It wasn’t just the kissin’,” you managed to get out, hips bucking again when he yet again teased you with his mouth. You felt one of his arms sneak out from under your skirt, broad forearm settling across your waist to keep you in place. “Watchin’ you threaten him…”

You didn’t have to see him to know he had a cocky grin on his face. “That got you all bothered?” He asked, bewilderment and desire both lacing his question. Warm air hit you as he talked, causing you to squirm anticipatorily in your seat.“You’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you?”

“Only for you.”

You felt more than heard the responding growl, his grip tightening on your waist as he ran his tongue through your folds, almost immediately going back through for a second, a third, a fourth time. Rolling your head back, pleased noises tumbled from your lips, your other leg almost immediately joining your other around his back. You felt him mutter something, and the broad swipes of his tongue turned to short precise licks, targeting your clit with precise movements. 

The change in sensations had you crying out, hands scarbling at his arm as you tried to find something to hold on to. He chuckled lowly, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. “As much as I’d love to hear you, we don’t want anyone finding out what’s going on in here, do we?” You both knew damn well that nothing could be heard outside the carriage, but the idea of having to keep quiet to prevent your friends from knowing turned you on more than it should. Your body must’ve reacted some way, and you heard him groan appreciatively. “You are dirty.” He sounded a million miles away, but it still felt like his mouth was pressed to your ear. 

Now attempting to muffle yourself, you bit at your lips, most likely drawing blood. His mouth worked at you so much better than you could’ve imagined, your fingers nothing compared to this. Nothing you had ever done to please yourself had felt this good; now that you had a taste of what someone else could do to you, you never wanted to go back. 

A particularly rough flick of his tongue had you whining, pressing a hand on your mouth to stifle your cries. He brought out every drop of pleasure from your body with such ease, like it was second nature. You felt that familiar pressure begin to form in your abdomen, one that normally took you so much longer to reach yourself. He was almost too good at this, playing your body like it was his guitar, his talented mouth pulling noises from you like he was strumming his fingers across the strings. 

All thoughts left your mind when you felt his lips latch around your clit, sucking the toying with the sensitive nerves. A plethora of exclamations tumble from your lips, the most frequent one being his name. It seemed to spur him on even more, and you felt his free hand trail up your thigh, resting at the inner junction of your leg and hip. His fingers rubbed soothingly at the sensitive flesh as he continued his ministrations with his tongue. “Javi…” your voice was too breathless to complete his name, and you tried your best to warn him of your upcoming release, which was coming faster than you knew how to process. 

He didn’t verbally respond. Instead, you felt him adjust your lower body so that your hips were almost level with his face, your back hardly able to rest against your seat. The new angle made it hard to keep your legs wrapped around his lower back, so you let them go limp, no longer on the man. Javier didn’t seem to like this, almost immediately taking your legs and resting them on his shoulders, which was much more comfortable than the two previous positions. He hadn’t detached himself during the entire readjustment process, tongue and lips still expertly bringing you closer to your release.

The hand at your thigh moved inward, almost so slowly that you barely registered it. You moaned, slightly startled, when you felt those broad fingers spread you apart, tongue delving between them before almost immediately returning its attention to your clit. 

You felt him move his face downward, the new angle allowing him to do so with ease, his fingers following. Feeling them tease around your entrance, and you half-braced yourself for the intrusion you were sure was bound to happen with his fingers. Instead, you felt them move to where his tongue had been, rubbing them against you with the perfect amount of pressure and speed that had you crying out. His tongue instead teased around your entrance, pushing in a tiny bit before retracting, slowly easing you to take his tongue. 

The pressure in you increased tenfold as he slowly started to fuck you with his tongue, dexterous fingers adding to the ecstasy your body was feeling. “Javier, I’m close,” you managed to murmur out, before crying out again, barely able to muffle yourself this time. Your fingers dug into the muscle of his arm, most likely leaving crescent shaped indents from your nails. 

With his mouth quite preoccupied, the most he could do was groan something in response. Your muffled cries of his name turned to small gasps as pants, teetering closer and closer to reaching your peak. As best you could, you carded your fingers through the hand that held you down, desperately needing something to hold as you came. Without missing a beat, he flipped his hand so that his forearm still locked your hips down, but it gave you his hand to hold, your fingers shaky as you gripped his.

With a final cry of his name, your lips bruising from the way you clamped down on it, you felt your release wash over you. Your thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t seem to mind, fingers and tongue not stopping as he drew out every bit of pleasure from your orgasm. Head thumping against the wall of the carriage, you felt your hips buck slightly with each jolt that passed through your body, letting up in intensity as the aftershocks wore off.

Eventually, Javier let up, a cold shiver wracking your body at the lack of his heat. Pulling back your skirt away from his face, the two of you sat in silence for a second, both processing what the hell just happened. A chuckle spilled from you, a light smile on your face that Javier mirrored. He looked as disheveled as you felt, hair tousled and completely out of place. He only had a few light remnants of your lipstick left, his lower face instead was now covered in your arousal, it glistening in the pale moonlight. A proud smirk greeted you as he realized what you were looking at, and you wiped it away as best you could, resting your hand on the side of his face when you were done. You’re sure you looked like a mess as well, but Javier looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

Pulling him back up to your face level, you smashed your lips against his, and you felt his tongue run against the seam of your lips. Opening your lips to let him in, you let out a groan when you were able to taste yourself, the filthiness of it all causing a fresh wave of arousal to wash over you. Running your free hand down his chest, you toyed with his belt, a slight desperation in your touch as you unbuckle his belt.

Not even bothering to get it all the way off, you let it hang open, and you fiddled with the zipper, opening it after some difficulty. Brushing your fingers against his cock beneath his underwear, which had become deliciously hard, and you felt him shudder, breaking the kiss to exhale a breathy noise. “Mi amor.” It sounded like a mix of a plea and a warning. 

“Sit,” you whispered, yet it held no room for argument.

After a second’s pause, Javier complied, and you could tell he expected you to follow him with. You would’ve found it funny, the way he let out a shocked moan, when you sunk to your knees, but you only had one thing on your mind. 

Framing your knees on each side of his waist, he moved up the skirts to allow you enough room to straddle his lap. You felt his hands move from your skirts to your waist, and his cock pressed right up against your exposed center. You felt him begin to rut his hips the tiniest amount, running his cock through your folds. It was at that point that reality kind of hit you, and you felt that familiar feeling of anxiety begin to trouble your mind, but you pushed it away. 

One of his hands sneaked between your bodies, and you felt him hold himself upright. “Are you ready?” You heard him ask, the hand remaining on your waist squeezing reassuringly. You nodded, saying a hushed yes as you did so. 

Rising up onto your knees, you adjusted yourself so that the tip nudged your entrance. Both of you let out similar noises as you began to sink down onto him, and you rested your head against his neck. It was less painful than you thought it would be. Sure, the stretch of your muscles as they accommodated the intrusion was unpleasant, but it wasn’t downright painful. “Take it slow,” you heard him say through a clenched jaw.

Holding his shoulders for support, you eased yourself down inch by inch, your moans becoming more frequent as you felt him deeper and deeper inside you. He was already far deeper than you’d ever been able to go with your fingers, and you weren’t even close to having your hips flush with his.

Javier muttered praises to you, moving his hand from between the two of you to rub your lower back. “You’re doing so good,” you heard him say, lips pressing against the side of your head. “Just a little more.”

The slight discomfort you were feeling, the stretch of muscles causing a dull throbbing to spread across your abdomen, was quickly turning into a pleasurable feeling. Mumbling something out in response, you heard him chuckle softly, affectionately pressing another kiss to your head. 

A few more moments passed, your legs beginning to shake from the exertion of holding yourself up. Relief flooded your body when you felt his hips meet yours, and you let yourself relax on his lap now that he was fully sheathed in you. “Just like that, mi amor. You- fuck, you feel so good,” you heard Javier pant, voice raspy. Raising your head from his neck, you pulled him into a messy kiss as you let yourself get used to the feeling of him inside you.

Both of you broke the kiss simultaneously when you began to move, lifting yourself off his cock before sinking back down. It was slow, and the drag of him across your walls felt so incredible that you felt your head rolling back. A gentle hand brought it back. “I want to see you,” was all Javier said. You were sure to keep your head still as you repeated the action again, slightly faster than the last. 

Bitting again at your lip to keep yourself quiet, you were quickly able to fall into a rhythm, moving yourself down his length with increasing speed. Pleasure bloomed in your cunt, and you felt yourself clench around him with another drag. Javier choked our name, which sounded hotter than you thought it would be, and your body reacted accordingly. He moaned out your name again, smirking when your body reacted the same way. “Does my girl like that? Does she like hearing me cry out her name?” It was a rhetorical question, but you still found yourself nodding. 

Your legs were beginning to hurt, but you pushed on, the start of a new orgasm beginning to create itself. You felt Javier's eyes on your face, enraptured by the expressions on it. In any other circumstance, you would’ve found his close examination of you nerve wracking, but right now it was adding fuel to the fire growing in you. 

After a few more moments, your legs were really starting to hurt, barely able to lift yourself again. “Javier, I…”

“Do you want me to take over?” 

When you nodded, you felt his hands secure themselves on your waist. “You did so good, mi amor,” you heard him praise, and you felt him slowly begin to lift you, fingers digging into your skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, before he was bringing you back down.

It took no time at all for him to return to the pace you had set, lifting you up and down like you weighed nothing. You moaned out his name, your head almost rolling back again, but you caught yourself. His hips began to snap up every time he pulled you down, somehow reaching even deeper than before, and the added pleasure was bringing you right to the edge of your release. “I’m gonna-” another snap of your hips cut you off, an unitelliagble noise replacing your words.

“Me too.” Javier’s voice sounded thoroughly wrecked. “Where do you want me?”

It took a second for you to realize what he was asking, and if your brain wasn’t so filled with lust, your answer would’ve been completely different from the one you gave him. “Inside,” you answered, and you felt him falter completely. 

“Fuck, amor,” Javier began thrusting into you with reckless abandon, and in the back of your mind you prayed that Bill would not be able to feel it. The heightened speed had you reaching your end faster than you expected, and with a quite loud cry of his name you came, walls fluttering around him. Javier wasn’t too far behind, and with one final thrust he spilled into you, warmth flooding you. 

Sagging against Javier, the two of you sat in silence for a few moments, basking in the afterglow. He no longer held on to your waist, trailing his fingers lightly over your back. After pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, you felt him sigh. “As much as I’d love to keep you like this, we are almost back.”

Glancing out one of the windows, you saw that Javier was right, familiar scenery rushing past your eyes. Not bothering to hide the disappointment on your face, you slowly lifted yourself off him for a final time, barely able to do so because your legs were jelly. You made a small whining noise when you felt his release spill from you, and if you weren’t so focused on trying to make it back to your seat without falling then you would’ve seen the way Javier’s eyes darkened hungrily.

You were barely in your seat before he was back on you, having tucked himself back away into his pants, peppering many kisses across your lips and jaw until you were a giggling mess. Wrapping your arms around his head and shoulders, you pulled him into a deep hug, pressing your own lips on top of his head, a happy smile on your face. Content, he sighed deeply, even more so when you started rubbing your fingers across his scalp. 

With a regretful smile, Javier pulled away, and he slowly began to redress you. Starting with your undergarments, which quickly became soaked with his spend. Your stockings were put back on next, your shoes quickly following behind. The act of Javier redressing you almost left more intimate than what you two had just done, and you felt your heart thump erratically in your chest at the reverence of it all. 

Finally, you watched him sit upright on his knees, bringing himself level to you again. With one of his thumbs, you felt him wipe away the rouge that had smudged across your lips, another proud smile gracing him. 

“Did you fix it?” You teased, referencing back to a few moments ago, your voice hoarse and scratchy.

“I think so. Though we can always try again later.” You felt another pass of his thumb under your bottom lip. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

His hand stilled. “Can you blame me?” 

You didn’t respond, and you felt him continue to clean you up. 

When he deemed it done, you felt his thumb rest on your lips, brushing over the plump skin, not making a move to leave just yet. His eyes followed the movements of the digit, widening when you took it into your mouth. Bobbing your head once, you worked it between your lips, releasing it with a pop. Darkened eyes bore in you. “You’re making it quite hard to stop right here, mi amor.” You chose to not laugh at the innuendo. “That’s the point.”

He chuckled, which sounded more like a pained exhale through his nose, before removing his hand away from you. He moved back into his seat, lounging with a content expression, and you wanted nothing more than to climb back into his lap. Noticing your staring, you watched him spread his legs, providing you with an unobscured view of the way he was already getting hard again

Your hungry eyes traveled across his lower body, which Javier found highly entertaining, that cocky smirk returning. “And you say I’m insatiable,” he joked, hints of his own desire creeping into his voice. 

Before you could respond, the carriage coming to a sudden halt pulled you two from the little bubble you had created. A glance out the surprisingly not fogged window confirmed that you had arrived back at camp, a brightly lit campfire the only thing clearly visible in the dark night. Sighing, you grabbed the last of your belongings, tucking the clutch back under your arm and stuffing your gloves in your other hand, not bothering to put them back on. You watched as Javier quickly fixed up his hair, smoothing down the strands that were sticking up.

In typical fashion, he left first, helping you out with a hand, the same one that had just pulled one of the two . That fact had you hesitating for half-a-second before grabbing it, and if Javier noticed, he didn’t say anything, but he smirked at you knowingly. Cold air immediately cooled your overheated skin, goosebumps forming where sweat had been. You heard a soft thump on the ground as Bill hopped down from the driver’s seat, nodding at the both of you before retiring to his tent, unaware of what had transpired.

Arthur pulled into camp not a few seconds later, having trailed behind the carriage the entire time, following behind the two of you as you headed over to Dutch once he hopped off his horse. Arthur didn’t say anything, not quite knowing how Javier would react, and he kept his distance. When Javier rested his hand on your back, leading you toward Dutch’s tent, you could feel his stare, and you didn’t have to turn to know that he had a shit-eating grin on. 

You were grateful for the touch on your back, not only because you wanted it, but because it also kept you steady, legs still partially jelly as you hobbled over. If anyone asked, you could just blame it on the shoes. 

Dutch greeted you and the two other men warmly, sitting at a table with Hosea and Micah, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. You three said your own greetings, Arthur moving to slide into the extra open seat at the table. Javier stayed behind you, hand not leaving your body, as you leaned back into him. 

“So, I’m gonna assume that because you’re all here in one piece that it went well,” Dutch began, going straight into business. 

You heard Javier begin to explain to Dutch that it didn’t, and that he couldn't get his hands on the bond, but you cut him off by digging into your clutch, pulling out the the stacks of paper you’d pulled from the safe, along with a few clips of money, keeping one for yourself and Javier. You dropped them on the center of the table along with the gloves, a pleased whistle leaving Dutched as he eyed it, and you tucked the bag away. You’d give Javier his knife back later. “There was also a gold bar, which Arthur had.”

The cowboy nodded, pulling it from a satchel, and you realized that was how he had hidden it before. How he got into the party, you’d never know. Sliding across the table to Dutch, he weighed it in his hands, before passing it to Hosea who examined it more closely. You could feel the shock from Javier, gratitude and curiosity in his eyes as he watched you. 

Micah began to converse with Hosea about the gold, Hosea only answering in short, clipped sentences. Dutch and Arthur were already deep into conversation, Dutch giving you no more than a half-hearted thanks before seemingly dismissing you and Javier. Your skin felt sticky and your undergarments were growing more and more uncomfortable, and you wanted nothing more than to leave. Javier began to leave, but you stayed put, steeling yourself. You had one last thing you needed to say. 

“Dutch,” you kept your voice neutral, and he regarded you with a hum, still not turning away from Arthur. “Don’t you ever send me on a job like that again.” You tried to not word it like a threat, but it still came out as one.

Immediately, all conversation halted, clear shock written across all the men’s faces. The odd chair creaked as Dutch turned to face you now, his expression unreadable. Never, during the entire time you’d been with the gang, had you ever talked back to Dutch in any sort of manner, and it caught everyone off guard, including yourself. Heart thudding anxiously, you awaited a response from the leader, unable to tell if you had just pissed him off. You watched Arthur’s eyes flick between Dutch and you, also unsure of where this was heading. Hosea seemed to be the only one not worried, and you swore you saw the older outlaw smirk in the low light. 

“And why’s that?” Micah interjected, but you ignored him, biting back the anger that threatened to overtake you. Deep breaths, now. 

After a few beats of tense silence, Dutch finally responded. “Noted,” was all he said, nodding as he spoke. A sound of protest left Micah, but Dutch disregarded it. “You did well tonight.”

Nodding, you muttered a quick goodnight, before quickly getting the hell away from the table before the calmness dissipated. Javier followed not far behind, no longer in reach to touch you, and he laughed so lightly that you barely heard it. Turning your shoulder, you questioned him with a look. 

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

“Oh, hush,” you waved him away, ignoring the flush in your cheeks at his compliment. 

“I mean it!” Javier laughed, moving closer to that he was able to stop you with a gentle tug of your waist. You realized that you had walked back to the edge of camp, near where the carriage was parked at the entrance. The two of you were relatively shrouded in the dark, trees helping to block you from the camp. A few people beside the men at the table still lingered around camp, but they were too preoccupied with what they were doing to notice you and Javier. 

“There I was, having completely disregarded the whole job, and you just went along and did it yourself. And you know I normally wouldn’t condone you talking to Dutch like that,” Javier pulled you in close by your hips, his own pressed against your backside, “I would be a liar if I said I didn’t find you incredibly hot asserting yourself like that.” He nipped at your ear, his facial hair causing you to giggle. It turned into a moan when you ground yourself against him, feeling the still noticeable bulge there. No wonder he chose to stay close behind you as you talked with Dutch. 

You went to tease him about it, but were promptly cut off when you felt him press himself into you, his member protruding into you, pretty much ready to go. As Javier began to lead you away to the woods, you realized that you were not going to get a lot of sleep tonight.

You found that you didn’t care.

[raivenantcravings]

Round 6 Reaction/Analysis

SDFFSDHFLSDHF ROUND 6 FSDHKFDSH ROUND 6 FSDKFSDHFDS ROUND 6

I woke up to twitter analysis saying that Till never even looked at Ivan until his final moments. And I made pre round 6 fanart titled "look at me." Couldn't manifest it. He never looked at him in the end,,,

broo dont look so happy. oh my god you lovesick fool.

reaction and analysis under the cut

First detail I noticed was that are the mics clear because both Ivan and Till are being vulnerable? They have nothing to hide anymore, so they'll show the world their whole being.

Anyways, to my main point,,

My interpretation of the ending was that Ivan was really trying to "cure" Till.

Till opens up with wanting to feel pain, to feel hurt.

"Please, leave me scars"

"Please, hurt me so that not a single drop of me remains"

Which, I realize he's talking to Mizi, but it's a cry for "help" either way.

Ivan's part goes:

"Notice my pain and mend me right now"

Again, he's talking about himself, but I think it could apply to what he does to Till.

So they kiss.

And, I've seen a lot of other people already say this, but I also do feel the kiss was not only meant to be for Ivan to selfishly show his love for Till.

Like bro don't go nonconsensually kissing your crush, what are you doing!?

When the scores came out, Ivan was much lower than Till than I expected. I thought it'd be a Mizi-Sua situation where the scores were close, but Mizi barely edged it out.

But Till almost had 20 points over Ivan.

And I know it's because Till is a rising star. And his new image change would really garner the attention of everyone. But it's not like Ivan is a nobody either. I didn't expect the scores to be so different.

I do think its because Ivan kissed Till. As a final nail in the coffin that guarantees his loss.

Alien Stage is commentary on the idol industry. One of the most prevalent issues in the idol industry is the romantic lives of the idols. Idols are not supposed to be in relationships, at least not outwardly. Their whole image is for the fans. Nothing they do should ruin that public image as an idol.

Much less in a in a queer relationship.

Now I don't believe the universe of Alien Stage cares about LGBTQ+ issues because there's bigger issues surrounding their human pets. But I think that it is an issue that Vivinos is trying to address because they certainly never shy away from queer issues in their other works.

And I feel the idea that idols/pets should not be swayed by their romantic emotions is still prevalent in their society.

So for the audience to see Ivan kiss Till, in one of the most outrageous and public displays possible, further pushes the votes in Till's favor.

And yeah, I also do believe that he kissed Till for him to finally look at him, but I also feel that it was a self-sacrifice too.

And then Ivan violently chokes Till.

Possibly, as another way to give Till votes. Since when Mizi started punching Luka, the audience was outraged at her actions.

Violence is definitely frowned upon on the stage.

More on the choking scene,,

I also saw some people saying that it's because Ivan wanted Till to die with him, which may be part of it. I don't think everything Ivan did was completely selfless.

But

Till accepts it. Earlier when he is at the bar (party? venue? the private show either way), he fights the alien who tries to punch him.

He did show him Mizi's missing image, so he is enraged in this moment, but he does have fight left in him even then.

He doesn't resist when Ivan chokes him just closes his eyes and awaits death. Perhaps if Mizi was already dead, he can just join her in the afterlife since he had no way of knowing she was still alive.

In this way, Ivan is his savior. The one who is finally freeing him from all this pain he felt after losing Mizi. This is his "cure."

And for Ivan, he sorta wants to be a savior to Till. He has freed him on multiple accounts from his shackles. Even helping him run away with him, so they can experience freedom together.

They both get what they want, but,,

Ivan lets go of Till and Till, with an expression that feels like shock, finally looks at Ivan.

Killing him would not give him the freedom that Till needs

that Ivan wants Till to have.

So, like the countless times Till has been chained around his neck, Ivan gives him his chains:

hurting him like he desires.

A scar around his neck.

(Where the scar from his name is)

And mending him,

by taking away the final chain that Ivan could release from Till.

His "cure."

It felt like his final desire was to get Till to snap out of it, to realize that he needs to find true freedom, to not get apathetic at the situation, to keep on going and to live.

He really, truly loves Till even if Till does and never will understand it.

Also final thoughts, is it not strange that Ivan is able to release Till's bindings so easily?

No one else is shown releasing the bindings, so maybe it is just as easy as a press of the button. Yet, I don't feel like it's just poorly designed if that's the case. Because you literally have a person like Ivan releasing a dangerous human like Till. Shouldn't a cautious society like the world of Alien Stage made sure it wouldn't be super easy to get out of.

If there is more to it, I wonder if that'll be a plot point later on. With Ivan leaving behind the secret to getting out of the bindings for Till. So, when a character maybe Till or even Hyuna or Mizi have been captured, they're able to escape since they know how to remove them.

Maybe, I'm just being delulu

And final final thoughts, the kiss was great and definitely made me almost scream. But the way Ivan nuzzled Till has got me acting up.

Like, it's just so soft and sweet and not a big show of it like when Ivan kisses Till on stage.

It feels so intimate, so personal, so full of love.

I just, I just can't. They'll be the death of me.

[munson-blurbs]

A little Eddie x bookworm!Reader fluff for my beloved @corroded-hellfire 💚 thank you for being my soulmate. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know.

The school library is your favorite place to be. Surrounded by stillness and books, rows and rows of novels that allow you to escape into your own fantasy world. You love it so much that you’ve started volunteering there after school just to embrace its feeling.

“What’re you in for?”

The voice startles you, breaking your focus of reshelving mysteries. You turn around to see Eddie Munson standing beside you, pushing a cart of paperbacks. “Wh-What?”

“The manual labor,” he clarifies, gesturing to your book stack. “I accidentally told O’Donnell to kiss my ass, so Higgins stuck me here. Guess he finally realized that detention wasn’t helping me ‘learn my lesson.’”

You’re not quite sure how someone can accidentally tell a teacher to kiss their ass, but you move on. “Oh, um, nothing. I mean, I just help out here. For fun.” You cringe at the phrasing. Yes, while most people are out partying, I hang out in the library. Try not to be jealous of how cool I am.

Eddie just nods. “Fellow bookworm, huh? Nice.” He glances around the library. “You’re really smart, right? Probably read everything in this place.”

“Pretty much,” you agree, even though it’s far from the truth. Your crush on Eddie Munson is beyond cliché: shy honors student falling for the metalhead bad boy. He leaves you both tongue-tied and rambling. “I didn’t know you liked to read, too. What’s your favorite book?”

He brings his hand to his heart as though he’s just been stabbed, stumbling back dramatically until he bumps into a bookshelf. “That’s like asking a mother to pick her favorite child,” Eddie laments, rubbing the back of his head where it collided with the shelf. When he does, his Hellfire shirt rides up slightly, exposing a pale sliver of stomach. “I love anything Tolkien writes, but pretty much anything fantasy is fair game.” He hands you a book to shelve as he asks, “What about you?”

“Fantasy’s…fantasy’s good,” you manage, embarrassed at how flustered you got by just seeing a bit of his skin. You grab another book off of his cart. “But I’m especially partial to the classics. Like Little Women.”

You expect him to scoff at that, but he just plucks a pen from his back pocket and clicks it open, scrawling the title on his calloused palm. “Little…Women.” His tongue pokes out from between his lips as he concentrates, skin not the best medium for writing. “Okay, now I’ll remember to read it.”

You spend the next hour shelving books with him and swapping stories. Eddie tells you about his band and his D&D Club, and you confide in him that you’re working on writing your own novel. His eyes widen at the information. “No shit!” he exclaims, seemingly unaware of his otherwise quiet surroundings. “How much have you written?”

“Just an outline so far,” you admit, but he’s already excited.

“Bring it with you tomorrow,” he instructs, “and I’ll read it after we’re done.”

You cock your eyebrow at this. “How many days of manual labor did Higgins give you?”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to be bashful. “Just, uh, just the one.” His cheeks tinge pink. “But I’d like to keep talking with you.” He lets his fingers brush against yours for just a moment, but it’s enough to tell you that there’s hope for something beyond friendship here.

“Yeah, okay,” you smile, returning the empty cart to the circulation desk and shutting the lights. “Walk me to the bus stop?”

“I’ll do you one better,” he offers with a grin. “Let me give you a lift home?”

And who are you to deny this cute, metalhead, bookworm bad boy?

—

[sccpmccabe]

ᅟᅟᅟ tolerate it | alessia russo x brazilian!reader, duda sampaio x brazilian!reader

Summary: Everyone goes through bad times in life, but some attitudes can end in mistakes and sometimes there is no way back.

[AN: I'm working on some requests but I couldn't stop thinking about this plot, so here it is! This will be a mini series with two other chapters, hope you like it <3]

ᅟ The last few months have been hell for Alessia. The first blow was the crisis that their secret relationship was facing.

ᅟ During the World Cup you, the English striker's girlfriend, were feeling very overwhelmed, after all, that would be the first time that you would play in that tournament for your national team. As if that wasn't already a huge weight on her shoulders, every day her coach made a point of repeating the same words to the team.

ᅟ “Are you really going to allow the queen of football to retire without a world title with the national team? I don't care if you're young, old or what, you need to give everything for her. Marta deserves this and I will not allow you to ruin this experience for her.”

ᅟ Pia Sundhage was an admirable and successful woman, but she definitely crossed some limits and the most serious thing was almost completely taking away the identity of the Brazilian team. It wasn't news to anyone that Brazil was known for its beautiful, passionate style of play, full of tricks and skills, but since the woman arrived as coach shortly after being eliminated in the 2019 World Cup, things have changed drastically.

ᅟ Despite being a young player, you already had your fair share of experiences at an international level as you left the club that formed you very young and followed Geyse, your colleague and best friend, out of Brazil. A few years passed and while the other girl shone in Spanish lands playing for Barcelona, you enjoyed the contrasting experience of living in London and playing for the red team in the north of the city.

ᅟ It was during one of Arsenal's games against United that you met Alessia and it's safe to say that from the first moment you found yourself in love with the girl with blue eyes and blonde hair. To your surprise, she also ended up really liking you and at the end of that match you exchanged t-shirts and a small note came with hers and contained your phone number and an invitation to dinner.

ᅟ The rest was history, and a story worthy of romance books, by the way, but little by little the whole situation began to fall apart and you seemed to be the only one interested in putting together and pasting all the pieces of your love. While you fought for her, Alessia didn't even recognize any gesture and just worried about her own life and career. She kept it a secret and made a point of hiding it in a trunk under lock and key. Not even your family and closest friends knew that you were a couple and that hurt, a lot.

ᅟ You begged the blonde for help not once, much less twice or three times but she just ignored your messages and calls with the excuse of being too busy preparing for the competition, which wasn't completely a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. While all this was happening and your condition was only getting worse, your teammates noticed how miserable you looked, but they couldn't understand why. It was only when Luana ran after you after a training session that they began to understand what you were going through and despite the help that the midfielder and all the other girls provided you, you never managed to fully recover as a huge part of your problems was your secret relationship.

ᅟ The trigger came at the final whistle in the game against Jamaica, making his biggest fear come true. Brazil was out of the World Cup in the group stage and your heart, which already had some cracks in it, broke in half once and for all. Your eyes roamed the stands hoping to find Alessia somewhere since she had promised she would be there for you, but your search for her was in vain. Without even realizing how it happened, you found yourself kneeling on the field with your face in the grass in front of Marta's boots, who was trying to comfort you while you cried profusely. All the cameras were on you and the Queen of football, knowing how sad and meaningful that image was.

ᅟ Tears were still flowing from your eyes like a waterfall when you felt a weight on your back and two strong arms pressed against your fragile body. All the other players, both Brazilian and Jamaican, gathered around you forming a large circle and sympathizing with the difficult time you were going through. It took some time, but you finally recovered enough to lift your head off the ground and face the older woman in front of you who was looking at you with teary eyes and you were about to break down again when Duda's low voice reached your ears and you body turned to face the girl who held you in her arms so carefully.

ᅟ Just like you, Duda was also part of the new generation of players, she currently played for the best team in the country, the same one that had revealed you to the world a few years ago. You had many things in common, but for some reason she seemed to avoid your presence, always choosing not to stay by your side for long and looking away from your direction. At first you thought she didn't like you, but Luana and some other colleagues assured you that it was just her shyness speaking louder, however, despite all that, she was the one by your side at that moment, looking at you with so much affection that your breath caught for a few moments. The brunette offered you a welcoming smile before extending her hand for you to hold and get up, but noticed how your legs shook when trying to do so and decided to take the action of picking you up and carrying you to the changing room.

ᅟ The more time passed, the harder it was to face reality. Little by little, the devastating sadness gave way to anger, and from anger, to revolt. The local atmosphere was hostile and heavy, each player was dealing with it in a different way, but they all had some thoughts in common, you could have done more, you should have done more. Even in the midst of that chaos, all the players' phones were exploding with messages and calls from family, friends and even players from other national teams who showed solidarity in that difficult time. Despite that, it took almost an entire day for Alessia to contact you and when she did, God, it was disastrous.

ᅟ It took some time, but you managed to convince the blonde to meet you in person in the hotel room where your team was staying.

ᅟ "What do you want from me? I have more important things to do than talk to you.” She said as soon as she reached her room, taking off the hood and glasses she wore as a disguise. Her words affected you more than you wanted to admit and after closing the door and making sure no one had seen the blonde enter your room, you walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. At that moment it became clear that you should get straight to the point with her, knowing that trying to stall would only make things worse.

ᅟ “Good night to you too, Alessia.” Your voice carried a certain irony and the coldness with which you treated her was unusual. “Since you are a very busy woman, I will get straight to the point. I can no longer stand the way you are treating me and I can't maintain our relationship if you continue like this. I know you're avoiding me and I can't understand why. We’ve always been open with each other and you’ve just signed for Arsenal, which I think should only improve our relationship, but you’re more distant than ever.”

ᅟ The striker seemed surprised by your words since you never liked conflicts or more serious conversations like this, and, despite knowing that you were right, she couldn't help but mock you, maintaining an air of superiority while crossing her arms over the chest.

ᅟ “How many times do I have to tell you that I need to focus on my career and the World Cup, hmm? I thought that by this point in the championship this would have become very clear.” You even tried to interrupt her to better explain your point of view, but she didn't even give a chance. “No, you already had your turn to speak, now it’s mine. And, what do you know, you're right, I really am avoiding you because I can't deal with your neediness anymore. Lately you've been so unbearable that I don't even feel like having a conversation with you. I’m a world-class striker, I don’t have time to deal with your bullshit and your problems.” God, how her words hurt. It was hard to believe that the girl in front of you who was putting on such a narcissistic show was the same one you had fallen in love with and loved madly.

ᅟ “Oh, now I understand. So what you want to tell me is that I have to be emotionally available to you in your worst moments just like I was when the United fans turned on you but you can't return the favor because you are a world class striker?” The temperature of that conversation was increasing quickly, as was your voice, which certainly caught the attention of your friends in the next rooms. “How selfish you are, Alessia. I can't believe you mean all this, what happened to you? When did you become so stupid and snobbish? Did winning the Euros get to your head that much? Because a fucking title doesn’t give you the right to treat me like I’m nothing or nobody.”

ᅟ “If by being a snob you mean I'm a realist, then yes, I'm a complete snob. Don't you notice the difference between us? I was instrumental in winning the Euros while you weren't even able to help your team get past the group stage of the World Cup. And don’t be fooled into thinking that I signed for Arsenal because of you and our relationship, I did it because it was best for my career and because your team needs a real player like me.” The tone of voice Alessia used was completely humiliating and the cruelty of her words was so much that it left you speechless. Your girlfriend knew how insecure you were feeling about this tournament and in addition to not helping you with that, she made sure to destroy you once and for all. The woman you loved did this to you, and you couldn't believe it.

ᅟ The expression on your face was one of pure pain and betrayal, your throat was dry and you didn't even know what to say while the blonde was still in front of you watching you with that air of superiority, but when you got up from the bed she was scared. Your body language screamed wrath and your eyes shone from the tears you refused to let go. It was at that moment that Alessia realized everything she had done to you and how much her attitude affected you. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach and the worst person in the world, but now it was too late.

ᅟ "We are over." Your sentence was said indifferently, as if you and the striker didn't have a history. “Get out of here. I don't want to see you ever again” It was obvious that you were containing your emotions, and, in order not to have to deal with them, you walked to the door of your room, coming face to face with Lelê, Geyse, Duda and Luana in the hallway. They had heard everything and were about to invade the room. You looked at them with panic, not knowing how much they had heard, but Alessia was still standing in the middle of the room, shocked by her own actions. “I TOLD YOU TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.” Your scream was powerful and disturbing like a thunderclap and broke the British woman out of the trance she was in.

ᅟ She had never seen you like that. At the same time that you looked so fragile her body was filled with anger and she knew it was better to do what you said. She left the room slowly, startled by the presence of her teammates who were already there and noticing the arrival of others. Despite this, she had the audacity to try to approach you and say something, but Letícia, Luana and Geyse took a step forward while Duda pulled you away from it. The attacker seemed to want to insist on that, but the goalkeeper blocked her path. Letícia and Alessia were the same height, but the brunette's physical condition made her more threatening and firm like a brick wall. Fortunately her presence was enough for the lioness to give up on her plan and leave in a hurry, like a coward.

ᅟ Only when her silhouette disappeared behind the elevator doors did you allow yourself to give in, running back to the bedroom and, later, to the bathroom, where you barely had time to lift the toilet lid before throwing up. A few seconds later you smelled Duda's perfume around you and her hand on your back, trying to comfort you just like she had done a few days ago. You had no idea what her level of English was and how much she had heard and understood of the conversation, but regardless, she was there, by your side, again.

ᅟ You could hear Luana's voice, imagining that she must be explaining the whole situation to the other girls who arrived after the commotion in the hallway and as you thought about how horrible that situation was, you realized that in a short time you and your ex-girlfriend would play together on the same team. Suddenly the nausea was back and you felt everything spinning around you. Little by little you got better and finally came out of the bathroom, seeing all your teammates crammed into the room and ready to welcome you into their arms.

ᅟ It took a few hours and a lot of explanation on your part, but eventually everyone understood the situation and shared the same anger as you. They were all worried about what would happen in the future since you two are Arsenal players and would see each other every day in a matter of a few weeks, and that worried you too, but it was after a few minutes in silence that Tamires made a suggestion that made your eyes shine.

ᅟ Soon you, the blonde and Duda were in front of the door of Cris Gambaré's room, the director of women's football at Corinthians who was helping the Brazilian coaching staff. When she finally answered, the three of you smiled slightly and the woman took a deep breath, knowing that she had a problem to solve.

BREAKING NEWS: Arsenal midfield star Y/F/N will go on loan to Corinthians, the club that revealed her to the world. The team was surprised by the request, but accepted after some insistence from the player. She must leave for Brazil immediately and will return to Arsenal as soon as the South American season comes to an end in December.

[dollfaceksj]

I’m actually so excited for cal #23 I’ve made so many scenarios just from the title man I need it

here we go then😘

can’t afford love | myg (m) #23

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

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after tossing and turning for most of the night

it’s finally morning

the sun peeks through but luckily you’ve shut the curtains

but it seems only then that you realize that you’re pressed up with your chest against yoongi’s back

you wonder if he slept well

or if he’s still sleeping

your hand is pressed up against his chest

and the way his heartbeat picks up in pace doesn’t go unnoticed by you

it’s a dead giveaway that he’s awake

and now you really do have to pretend you’re asleep

but it’s already too late by the way he can hear your quickened breathing

well

here goes nothing

you nuzzle your nose in the hair on the nape of his neck

he smells good.

so damn good😭

your lips are softly pressed against the back of his neck

you don’t even know why you’re doing this

or when he’s going to tell you to stop

but he doesn’t

you realize he’s not really reciprocating

just lies there

how embarrassing….

you slowly try to tug your hand back

but he’s quicker than you

wraps his hand around yours to keep it pressed against his chest

doesn’t let go of your hand

even tightens his grip on it

he suddenly raises your hand from his chest to his mouth and softly kisses your knuckles.

:(

and you know that deep down, this is you and yoongi’s way of apologizing and forgiving each other.

you gently tug on his hand

hoping he understands

and he does.

he turns to face you

but neither of you make the effort to distance yourselves

in fact

the only thing you two do is stare each other down

your eyes trail the outline of his lips

you bring your thumb up to gently trace his cupid’s bow down to his bottom lip

he simply watches you

lets you do whatever you want

you slowly lean in

let your nose nudge against his

he lets you

your lips graze his, barely

softly

until you’ve pressed a quick, innocent peck to his lips

you back off to check his reaction but he’s simply closed his eyes for the peck and has slowly opened them to look at you again

but just as you go to lean in for another kiss

your phone buzzes

it almost makes you flinch

you reach out to your nightstand and check your phone

from: mom

(2 image attachments)

the first picture is her and jun in jun’s hospital bed

jun is smiling widely, in the midst of one of his giggles whilst she kisses his chubby cheek

the second picture is him sound asleep, cuddling his spiderman plushie that you bought to keep at your mother’s home

you smile at your phone and turn the screen to yoongi to look at the pictures

he squints his eyes from the brightness of your phone and then smiles at the pictures, a quiet sigh of relief escaping him

from: you

‘please send more when you can’

from: mom

‘Will do’

you lock your phone and put it back on the nightstand

you stare at the ceiling for a few moments

n feel his eyes on the side of your face

“thank you for birthing jun.”

you turn to look at him. “what?”

“just,” he pauses. “thank you.”

oh

well you couldn’t have done it without him you suppose

“thank you for assisting me,” you chuckle, reaching out to tuck his hair behind his ear.

but before you can comprehend what’s going on, he’s leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips

“sorry.” he smiles. “needed a reason to kiss you for.”

he simply turns onto his back and stretches whilst yawning before sitting up

and you have to pretend like your heart isn’t drumming against your chest from that quick kiss

you stare at his back as he ruffles through his hair and scratches the back of his head before getting out of bed and heading towards the bathroom

you can hear him freshening up as you stare at the ceiling, replaying the last 12 hours in your head

you tilt your head to stare at the purse thats on your dresser

still with its spilled contents

mockingly staring at you

you wonder

if you should have a talk with him about how you’re going to continue from this point on

once you hear him exiting the bathroom, you get up and make your way there to freshen up as well

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

you’re having breakfast with yoongi in silence

until he asks, “is it a habit now?”

“hm?” you frown. “what is?”

he swallows his food before nodding at the tv behind you. “letting the tv play spongebob even when jun isn’t here.”

you didn’t even realize you had turned the tv on

it really must be a habit

“oh… yeah. makes me feel like he’s here with me.”

yoongi stares at you when you say that

and it must make him think about how if you two didn’t divorce, you wouldn’t have to see jun only 2 weeks a month

he looks down and sighs quietly before wiping his mouth. “so, speaking of jun.”

your eyes curiously flicker up to his as you take a sip from your coffee

“what now?” he asks

“what do you mean?”

“the birth control. do you still want another baby?”

“yes!” you cut him off immediately. “yes, i do. i told you, i only wanted to delay the chances of a pregnancy, not eliminate it.”

he slowly nods. “so,” he starts, leaning forwards. “you just want to have sex, then?”

you try not to choke on your breakfast and wipe your mouth clean

why does he have to say it like that?

“you don’t have to say it like that,” you mumble as you rise to your feet and gather the dirty plates

he stands up and reaches for your wrist. “how else am i supposed to say it? i’m not trying to do anything sketchy, i just want to know what your goal or plan is.”

you stare at his hand around your wrist before looking up at him. “like i said,” you start, “i just wanted to delay the pregnancy for a month or two.”

he nods. “meaning, currently,” he pauses, “you just want to have sex.”

UGHHH

you tug your wrist out of his grasp and continue to clean the table

“come on,” he chuckles. “why do you find it so hard to admit?” he stays in your wake like a little pest

“stop it,” you mumble as you place the dishes and cutlery in the sink

he traps you against the sink with his body, back pressed against your chest

“what did we talk about?” he asks. “something about being honest with me and stop being embarrassed to tell me about what you want and how your feeling or something like that? i could be wrong but that’s how i remember it.”

you whine at his pushiness

“come on, just admit–”

“yes, i just want to have sex with you for the time being,” you snap as you turn to face him. “happy?”

the frown on his face slowly turns into a grin. “see? wasn’t that hard, was it?”

you scowl at him before pushing him off and returning to the dining table to put everything back in the fridge

but yoongi follows close behind once again, just to pester you

you wipe the table clean of the crumbs when you hear your phone buzzing on the counter in the kitchen

“can you check my phone? i think it’s my mom,” you say as you anticipate another picture of your little prince

yoongi disappears into the kitchen and comes back holding your phone out to you

and yes, it is your mom sending you a picture of jun

you smile at the picture, it’s jun having breakfast in bed whilst watching spongebob and yoongi stands next to you, smiling at the picture as well

“can you imagine him starting to talk like spongebob? i’d have to give him up for adoption,” yoongi jokes, which earns him an elbow in his rib from you

“leave him alone, he’s just–”

buzz…

buzz.

buzz

both your eyes flicker up to the pop up notification at the top of your screen

and in your peripheral vision you see yoongi slightly tensing up.

yeah

he definitely read that

from: Taehyung

‘Hey beautiful. Have you considered my offer yet?’

to be continued.

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— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

@pamzn @jknoah @ahgasegotarmy116 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @Teddytaee @pnkmyg @yoongallery @agustdswifey @purp13st4r @busanstarkoo @busanboykoo @kookssecret @p34rluv @xumyboo @jojowantstocry @minjenna @codeinebelle @Futuristiclovedreamland @rirushu @taegicity @namgihours @ultminyoongi @swinterr @butterymin @partyparty-yah @bettybloop @secfir @coffeedepressionsoup @keroppitae @manuosorioh @whoa-jo @etaerealboyv @kaiparkerwifes @luvjiminandyoongi @luvbeomkai @petalsofink @paradiseyoongies @Gaby-93 @MMFranklin @llallaaa @vickyyy97 @osakis-gf @luna-astro-star @shabbamadapot @rrrapmonste-rr @jjeonjennie @yoongisducky @s3l3n0phil3 @itsmina29 @namjoonsbuspass @hoseokshobagi @laurenrodr @keshiadeija @acquiescence804 @swga-ficrecs @sato-hana02 @honsoolhour @gaby-93 @kimseokgen @Imene1609 @joonsmagicshop @yunki-yunki-yunki

[reasaph]

"I don't believe in God, but I believe that your my savior.

Soshiro Hoshina x Suicidal Fem reader!

Summary: (name) a person who has no beliefs, no reason and no will to live gets hospitalized after another attempt. There, she meets Soshiro Hoshina and looked forward to waking another morning ever since.

Authors note: THIS FEELS SO RUSHED AHHH. I don't like how reader likes him at first meeting :((, I'll try to do better next chapter.

TW: Suicide, self-destructive behavior, cussing, reader gets attracted a lil to fast, Injury, mention of drugging, the angst lessens at the end.

The title is from the song "Sailor song" by Gigi Perez!

Part 1

You oh so desperately wanna fuck with death. You wonder if The reaper is gentle when leading you to its chambers. The thought crosses the cocoon of your brain every time you gamble with your life on edge.

Every time a noose is slipped past the crown of your head and on the way to envelope your neck in the most lovingly way its ever been craddled. Every time you swallow those intoxicating pills which you found and deemed adorable because of its miniature size, theyre so small, perfect for the way they kill you off slowly (atleast was supposed to).

In every attempt, you wonder, will death be as beautiful as you imagined?

This time is no different.

The breeze felt nice, it was cool against your skin. The sun was shining brightly, much to your predicament. Its as if it was mocking you, screaming at your presence 'the day will not mourn you, go ahead and jump but not a soul will bat an eye or shed a tear'. Your feet carey you to the very edge, step by step. As odd as it may be, you dont wanna die on such a lovely day. It opposes the idea of your ideal and perfect suicide. You want the skies to feel as you feel. You want the clouds to heave and the horizon to dim. Your plan seems to be soiled by the tilt of earths axis just for today.

"I'll try tomorrow."

All of a sudden, the realization of how close you actually were to the edge hit you like a truck. It made you wobble and lose balance. Again, the world had other plans for you. It always does, never in your years of living has life been cooperative and actually side with you for fucking once. You learned to not care anymore, Embracing the wind as you fall, enjoying the nice breeze before your head cracks. It was warm when you hit the ground and it was oddly comforting. You could feel your eyes already dropping so you let them. You let your consciousness get taken away, you have no reason to fight anymore. You let yourself get lost, not bothering the sirens echoing in the background.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You thought there was no next day for you. You were wrong, utterly wrong. You wake up in a hospital room. It was blindingly white, and the light on the ceiling only added to it. You had a hard time adjusting to the flashing hue's of the room. You could here the rhythmic beating of the machine beside you, lines drewn on the screen. It means your heart is still beating, it means your still alive. You could only sigh at that. A few couple minutes passes before a doctor came in, accompanied by a nurse. They checked your vitals and gave you fresh doses of whatever medicine. You dont care what they put inside your body, you'd just prefer if it was an some kind of sedative that could kill you.

"Every thing seems fine, no bad reactions and readings. Although for a few broken bones. Your lucky your fall was short, another floor high and your Skull wouldve cracked." he informs you. He doesn't even try to cover the grimace soaking his voice. Hes disgusted by you, Of course he is. You wish you could unsee the final glance he gave you as he exited the room, the nurse following in suit.

As soon as the door slides, It was only you again. Your thought's look back to replay he said, Lucky? You dont deem life precious enough to think that surviving is lucky. The next few hours were agonizingly painful. Like any other day, you just sat down on a matress and stared at the pristine marble on the floor or the peeling paint of the walls. It was only a Matter of time before you bang Your head repeatedly as a form of entertainment. You couldn't take it anymore, your mouth felt as dry as a dessert and your legs are aching to move.

You put on your slippers and the next minute you find yourself roaming the Labrynth of these hospital walls. You force yourself to walk even if your legs still hurt, in result you just limp. You were pretty sure you looked like a corpse in others eyes right now, dragging your feet and breathing as if you were just being forced to, not to mention the hospital gown your wearing. If you dont find a vending machine in the next counting Seconds, you were sure your gonna trip. A few more given minutes adventuring through hallways and dragging the weight of your body with your damaged leg and your perseverance was graced with the finding of the cafeteria.

There was tons of food to fill a plate with, but you only came here for a drink. Besides, you dont like the feeling of being full. It was always uncomfortable to you every time your stomach filled to the brim, you always vomit a lil after a full meal. You make your way to the lined up vending machines, entertained by the numerous colorful hues on the labels of the drinks. There are a variety to choose from; coffee probably for stressed out doctors, flavoured juice probably for children and lots more to choose from. You look at the prices and grimace, a bottle of water here costs twice more than a bottle of water outside. You could guess the reason why, yet still find it unbelievable. Companies are shit.

Patting the depths of your pockets to grab your wallet. Your eyes widen when you don't feel its shape bulging through the fabric. You shoved your hand in the pit and grieve the fact that no solid matter was occupying its space. You honestly felt like sobbing. You dragged yourself all the way here and it'll result to nothing. Theres no one to blame but yourself, really. You were always told that you never used your brain for common sense, if someone could see you right now, they'd laugh at your idiocity for sure. And no, you didn't feel the presence approaching you from behind.

"Uh can i use it now—?"

You've never whipped your head so fast that you swear you heard something crack. But you dont care about that, the only thing that you poured all your utmost attention is the man in front of you, staring directly at his face and him reciprocating. The first thing you took notice of is his hair, a mesmerizing blob of purple. You never thought once in life you'd find a bowl cut plesantly aesthetic to look at.

"Mam, ya ok? Yer staring at me like ya'v seen a ghost." He has a dialect, ok, thats added to the list.

"No, uh. I forgot my wallet, my bad. I'll be on my way now." You said you were going yet you havent moved a muscle. You still havent moved away from blocking the vending machine and you curse yourself for it. You could only blame it on your leg, but theres something else holding you back. He'll probably shove you away, wont he? You hope he would, so you'd snap out of your weird episode and get going.

"Ya look like you've been dragged here. Move, I'll treat you."

That was unexpected. You never thought those were the bunch of words that would come out of his mouth. He's smilling to, revealing the fang thats been covered. Does he actually mean it? No, thats not the question you need to ask. Does he have as much interest in you as you have with him? Or is he just this friendly by nature?

"Really? Thank you very much.. Sir?"

"Hoshina, Soshiro Hoshina. And ya dont need to call me sir. "His laugh made you stagger, it was melodic. A tune rivalling the most beautiful songbirds. You drag yourself to a bench and sit down as he drops coins down the slot. You look at him the entire time, drinking every detail about him you can possibly take in. The fact that he has bandages all over his figuer A the hospital gown, the scarlet of his pupils that reveals itself everytime he opens his eyelids, the way his hands were bruised and calloused with seemingly really old scars. All of it, you wanted to learn as much as you can.

" here, hope ya like coffee." He has that huge smile on his face again, maybe thats what intrigued you so much. How he smiles like he's never been unfortunate since his day of birth. It pissed you off but also made you extremely envious.

"Thanks, I'll make it up to you next time." You dont know what you meant by that. What next time were you talking about? No way, you actually want to see him again. No way, because never have you ever looked forward to anything despite your last breath. So why were you making excuses just to spend eVen a second more in his presence?

"Next time, huh? Sounds great, although You dont really hafta."

"I want to. Breakfast tomorrow at 8?"

"Oho, really straightforward aint ya, lil miss?"

"(Name)"

You wonder if you've said anything wrong because of the evident look of confusion on his face. Immediately, you try to redeem yourself.

"I've never mentioned my name. "

That worked, you thought, because Of the way he let out an Exgerrated 'ohh' as if the clogs in his brain started functioning again.

"Then, nice to meet ya, (name)!"

And then one thing lead to another. The conversation between you two kept going on, from one topic to another. The topics ranging from 'dont you think the cafeteria nuggets are fire?' to talks about the theories of shows you two happen to both watch. No personal questions were asked yet between the two of you. But you oh so badly want to ask the reaskn hes hospitalized right now and covered in bandages. Of course you dont utter a word about it, not wanting burst the bubble that created a comfortable atmosphere between the two of you. Here, On the bench with him. Its the most joyous you've been in months. If you could be greedy, you'd just stay here with him. But thats not gonna happen, no way life had given him to you for a good reason. But for now, you'll bask in every moment you spend with him.

You'll have a reason to wake up next morning.

[swarvey]

paper rings | harvey x f!reader

summary -> you decide to surprise harvey with a belated birthday gift; harvey tries to fight off some unwelcome thoughts. warnings -> none! harvey just has some horny thoughts. wc -> 3357

a/n: surprise, an update!!

i loved writing this chapter. i actually feel like this song could have fit well as this story's title as well!! very excited for the upcoming chapters, though i am a little sad to think this will eventually have to end </3

well, either way, hope you enjoy ! <333 seeing y'all comment and stuff honestly is so heartwarming, so thank you all!!!

ch. 10 | ch. 11 | ch. 12

paper rings masterlist

chapter eleven: state of grace -> "this is the golden age of something good and right and real."

Your eyes opened to the warmth of sunlight flowing through your window, a relaxed breath escaping you. A pleasant smile settled on your face as you sat up, rubbing your eyes and remembering the words Harvey had confessed to you the previous night.

I love you.

For a split second, you wondered if you dreamt it all, if it’d all been too good to be true.

Then, you saw that the bouquet was still missing from its usual spot on your wall, and you knew it had all been real.

You grinned, sitting up with a renewed energy. Finally, you were able to wrench out the phrase you craved to hear from your best friend. Despite the efforts — and pain — it took to get there, you still managed to do it, which, in your eyes, was all that really mattered. 

You recalled the insecurities Harvey had spilled to you; more so, how he felt he didn’t deserve you. Out of everything that happened, those words hurt by far the most. You saw the torn, broken look in his eyes, knowing him well enough to see past it and realize his wounds weren’t fresh. You didn’t even want to know how long his horrid thoughts had stewed in his head. Probably way too long. What a terrible way to spend his birthday.

Then, an idea struck you — one that you knew would take the majority of the day and your best efforts, but you felt in your heart it would all be worth it to see his face light up. Besides, Harvey had never hesitated in the past to put you at the top of his list of priorities.

You figured it was time to give back.

-

“Forgive me.”

“Elliott, please—”

“I know,” the overly dramatic poet choked out, grasping Harvey’s hand with both of his as if his life depended on it. “It’s terrible of me to ask you this, I know, but please, forgive me for the trouble I caused, my friend. I just . . .” Elliott looked up at the doctor, his bottom lip trembling and eyes filled with guilt. “I just couldn’t stand the feeling of lying to Leah, and I knew she had no ill intentions, either, but— oh, I know it’s no excuse for what I did!” 

After his birthday, Harvey decided it was finally time to reconnect with his two supportive friends, shooting them both quick texts to meet him at the Stardrop the following evening. He roughly explained everything that happened with you, not forgetting to mention the stinging silence he initially left you with. Elliott’s face dropped when he got to the part where you told him you knew about everything, how Leah had taken the big step to be the one to tell you. Fortunately, his friends were as understanding as ever, more happy than anything that he got the chance to reconcile with you. 

Unfortunately, Elliott decided the guilt weighing on his shoulders could only be lifted by apologizing for nearly twenty minutes straight.

“And here I thought my life couldn’t get any worse,” Shane gruffed, only half joking. He proceeded to roll his eyes so hard Harvey worried he would hurt himself. “Fuckin’ hell, just forgive him already, would ya, doc? I can’t stand this anymore.” 

Harvey scratched the back of his neck before placing his free hand on Elliott’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “It’s fine, Elliott, I promise,” he replied, unable to keep the amusement out of his tone. “It’s my fault for not telling her, after all. Besides, it all worked out, anyhow.”

“A-are you certain?” He leaned forward, nearly toppling over his seat onto the Stardrop’s floor. “How can you be so kind? It’s truly inspiring, doctor, you must let me buy you a meal for your generosity!”

“With what money, pal?”

Elliott fell back into his seat with a huff, managing a glare at his friend before sipping his drink. “With the money I made from selling my first novel, thank you oh-so very much.”

Harvey blinked in surprise, while Shane gawked at him. “Are you being serious?”

Elliott’s chest puffed up in pride. “Completely. Of course, my first patron was Leah, but I’m planning on having a live book reading at the library soon!” Harvey smiled warmly at the sight of his friend’s joyful expression, proud to see his hard work come to fruition.

Then, Shane frowned slightly and shifted in his seat. “What, so you didn’t even bother to ask me for one? C’mon, the least you could do after buggin’ me about this damn book for nearly a year is offer me a copy. Geez.” 

A pause. “You . . . actually want one?”

“Yeah, yeah, save the sap, it’ll make me barf.” He paused. “It’s kid-friendly, right? I’ll get two, give one to Jas. Maybe one for Vincent, too, fuck it.”

Harvey could only laugh as he watched Elliott pull Shane into an unreciprocated hug, his eyes gleaming with grateful tears and he tightly wrapped his arms around him. Despite his loud, profanity-filled protests, there was a light in Shane’s gaze that hadn’t been there a couple seasons ago. After promising to see the therapist Harvey recommended to him, he’d slowly begun to make progress, even deciding to replace his usual beer at the saloon with a glass of pop instead. 

“Alright, enough!” Shane finally regained his stance in his seat, running a hand through his ruffled hair. He mumbled something neither of them could hear, but Elliott beamed nonetheless.

“I hope you’ll save me one, Elliott,” Harvey said sincerely. ��Though, by the looks of it, you might have quite the fan already.”

“Shut it, doc.” 

Elliott let out a hearty laugh and gestured to Emily for an order. “Well then, my dear doctor, you must emphasize on your reunion with your lover,” he pressed on, looking at him eagerly, “but not before I order you a promised meal.”

“What’ll it be, gentlemen?” Emily asked as she wandered over, looking at the three with a bright smile. Her gaze stopped at Harvey. “Hey, what a nice surprise! I haven’t seen you here in a bit. I hope you’re doing alright, people have been saying they haven’t seen much of you lately.”

He cleared his throat, nodding. “There were a few . . . things, I had to deal with, but it’s all cleared up now.”

She hummed, but something about her look was a little too knowing. “Well, that’s all that matters, right? As long as you’re okay.” She leaned in a little then, close enough so she could whisper in his ear. “Haley’s just about ready to murder you, though. Thought I should give you a heads up.”

She smiled sympathetically when Harvey groaned, covering his face with his hands. He didn’t even bother to hear what Elliott ordered him and focused on the fact that one of your closest friends in town was probably plotting his murder.

“Everyone knows, don’t they?” he asked, voice muffled. He lowered his hands to see Shane hiding his smirk with his drink while Elliott sighed.

“I wish I could tell you otherwise, but yes,” the writer responded promptly. “I wouldn’t fear too much, though, especially if the two of you are on good terms! I’m sure she’ll clear the air.”

The door to the saloon opened, and — as if your mentioning had summoned you — you walked in wearing your work clothes, dirt and grass stains covering the front of your overalls. Your eyes met his immediately, and Harvey instantly looked away, feeling as if he had just seen his crush in the hallway. You tended to have that effect on him.

After the two of you shared a kiss the night before, he insisted on walking you home, tightly holding your hand the entire way. He was visibly reluctant to leave your side, allowing himself to, for once, be as clingy as he felt. When the two of you reached your front porch, he’d grabbed your hips and drew you closer to his body, looking at you with nothing but pure adoration.

“We have a long way to go, don’t we?” he asked softly, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek. 

You hummed in agreement, turning slightly to kiss his palm. “Good thing we’ve got all the time in the world, right?” Your eyes seemed to glitter when he looked at you, his breath faltering.

Harvey didn’t know why your words made him feel the way he did — then again, he couldn’t explain a lot of things he felt when it came to you — but in that moment, a wave of gratefulness washed over him, and he couldn’t help but pull you in for another gentle kiss. He thought back to what you had told him all those years ago, how he had good karma, and he decided you might have been right after all. There was no other explanation as to why you were still in his arms after all the trouble he caused.

“You truly are my weakness,” he blurted suddenly. “My vulnerability, the crack in my defense. I think I would do anything for you.”

You laughed at his words, and the sound made his heart race. “You’ve been hanging out with Elliott too much.” You paused then, leaning in closer to his ear. “Is that a promise, Harvs? Anything?”

He shivered, swallowing hard. “Of course.”

Just when he thought he’d earned another taste of your lips — a rougher one maybe, one that led to your bedroom — you pulled away, sporting a mischievous half-smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you chirped happily. “Goodnight!”

Harvey let out another groan at the thought, trying to ignore the stir in his pants. We’ll take it slow, he reminded himself, not even noticing your figure appearing beside him. We have all the time in the world.

“Earth to Harvey, hello?” you sang, waving a hand in front of his face. “You there? Or is nobody home?”

He scowled as his friends stifled their laughter, though managed a smile when he turned to greet you. “Hello,” he sighed, pushing his glasses up. “Ignore them, please. I’m not sure why I associate with them.” 

“Hey, a ‘thank you’ would be nice, buddy,” Shane said, voice dripping in leftover humor. “We’re the ones who’ve listened to all your little love-sick rants.”

You perked a brow. “Love-sick, huh?”

“Let’s go for a walk, shall we?” Harvey desperately suggested, taking out his wallet and throwing some coins on the table for his drinks. “I’ll talk to you two later. And, thank you,” he rushedly added. As he grabbed your hand and practically dragged you out of the saloon, he missed their lopsided grins at his words.

Harvey let out a long breath as he stepped outside, resting his hands on his hips. “I felt like I was suffocating in there,” he admitted, finding your hand once again.

You snorted. “Looked like it,” you replied, lacing your fingers with his. “I was looking for you, anyway. Did you get my text?” 

He blinked, grabbing his phone out of his pocket with his other hand to find one unread message from you.

Y/N : you at the saloon? i’ve got a surprise for you

“A surprise?” he wondered aloud. “For me?”

“Yes, Harvey, that’s what I said.” You smiled at his embarrassed frown, leading him through the plaza toward the clinic. “C’mon, I’ve been working on it all day!”

Just as he was about to question you further, a figure with long blonde hair and a blue tank top marched in front of him, successfully cutting off his hold on you.

“Don’t think I’ll forgive you as easily,” Haley snapped, and Harvey flinched at her furious tone. “You’re a real lucky guy, you know that, right? ‘Cause if I were her, I would have taken those glasses and shoved ‘em right up your—”

“Haley! There you are,” Leah laughed awkwardly as she grabbed the blonde’s arm, attempting to tug her away. “We’re going to miss the movie, dear. Let’s go.” She turned to Harvey, and he was glad to be met with much kinder eyes. “I’m glad you’re alright, Harvey. We’ll see you around.” Leah’s eyes lit up. “Oh, and happy birthday! Even though it’s a day late.”

“Thank you,” he responded, anxiously glancing at Haley. A pout rested on her lips as her partner nudged her.

“Yeah, whatever, happy birthday, I guess,” she mumbled, and you laughed at her reaction. Her expression lightened after that, the ends of her mouth lifting slightly. “I expect a call later, okay?”

“Will do.” You waved at the couple as they walked away, grabbing Harvey’s arm and continuing to lead him. “She’s pretty mad, if you couldn’t tell.”

“Really?” he asked dryly, fiddling with his tie. “I thought she seemed quite happy to see me.” You rolled your eyes, excitedly bringing him up the stairs to the fountain. “What is it, exactly?”

“What’s, what?”

“The surprise.”

You huffed, walking past the fountain. “Well, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, would it?” 

“I . . . suppose not, no.”

“Then be patient, we’re almost there.”

You only stopped when the two of you reached the Community Center, two birds chirping curiously down at your arrival. Harvey examined the building, noticing how, despite it looking as beat up as it usually did, it felt more welcoming.

Before he could continue, you swiftly snatched his glasses off his face, covering his eyes with your hands.

“What—”

“Just go with it, Harvs, please? ”

The pleading tone of your request nearly sent him spiraling. Nearly.

Take it slow.

He nodded, swallowing thickly once again. You’re going to be the death of me, he thought. He almost voiced it to you the door opened, but was interrupted before he got the chance.

“I felt a little bad yesterday night,” you admitted, leading him somewhere unknown. “With everything going on between us, it was hard to plan something for your birthday.”

He sighed, a pang of guilt running through his chest. “Now, you know none of that is—”

“It doesn’t matter,” you interrupted. “It’s over now, and we’re . . . good. Better than good, I think.” Harvey smiled, wishing he could see your face. “And, even though it’s not really your birthday anymore, I still wanted to give you something better than a dried bouquet.”

“That bouquet means much more to me than you think. It’s all I need, really,” he said softly, then willed himself to say his next words. “You’re all I need.”

“And you’re being a big ‘ol softie.”

Suddenly, he felt your hands drop, slowly blinking his eyes open. Of course, at first, all he could make out were blurbs of green and white.

“Um—” Although he couldn’t see, Harvey could practically hear you roll your eyes as you passed him his glasses.

“Surprise.”

He couldn’t believe it.

In front of him was a completely refurbished room in the Community Center, the walls smooth and the flooring void of any faults. That, in itself, was impressive to him. 

The room wasn’t exactly what caught his eye, though.

No, what caught Harvey’s attention was the various model planes scattered across the room, along with the small workbench in the corner.

“I had to go into the city to find those, it took me all day,” you explained, trying to read his reaction. His mouth remained parted as he walked around, taking his time to take in everything. “This is meant to be the Crafts Room. Mayor Lewis asked me to fix this place up a while ago, and that’s where I met the Junimos. Thought I’d add my own touch, though.” 

Harvey nodded absentmindedly. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. Quite frankly, he was in shock, unable to believe what you had done for him. His gaze only pried away when a familiar squeak sounded beneath him. He smiled as Blueberry hugged his foot. 

The spirit looked at him expectedly, as if asking, Do you like it? 

“It’s—” He stopped then, finally turning to face you. Warm tears filled Harvey’s eyes as he stepped forward and engulfed you in his arms, burying your face in his neck. “It’s more than I could have ever asked for. Thank you.”

He felt you slump in relief, gladly wrapping your arms around him. “I’m glad you like it,” you breathed, pulling back to see his face. “You had me worried there for a second. I thought it was too much.”

“No, this is perfect.” Harvey laughed, bright and unlike he’d ever laughed before, and kissed you. “I can’t even find the words to explain how I feel.”

You grinned. “Maybe ‘happy’ could give you a good start.”

“No, that’s too big of an understatement.”

“Hm. ‘Joyous,’ then?”

“I believe those are synonyms, honey.”

You blinked, a blush creeping up your neck. Harvey didn’t notice, too busy walking over to the desk that seemed made for him. Blueberry poked your ankle, and you took it as a sign to stick out your hand. The Junimo happily walked up your arm, settling down on your shoulder and closing its eyes. 

“This . . . this looks just like the one I had in my grandparents’ house as a kid,” he realized, eyes widening.

“You used to spend so much time sitting there, working on your planes, ignoring me,” you added playfully. “If you ever get bored, you can come here, now. Add to your collection. You can show them off to everyone, too, after I finish rebuilding everything.”

He flushed at that, turning to meet your eyes. “No, I couldn’t, i-it’s too embarrassing—”

“Harvey. If this —” You swept your arm around the room. “—is what you enjoy, you shouldn’t hide it. It’s an important part of you, and I know everyone in town would be impressed.” You gently tugged at his hand, holding it strongly in your own. “Plus, I find it very endearing, you know.”

He raised a brow, grabbing your other hand. “Really? Building model airplanes is something you look for in a partner?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Harvey shook his head, tilting it as he studied your gaze. “This is still so surreal,” he muttered, glancing down at your interlaced fingers. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

You nodded, then smiled. “You know, I never would have guessed this.” You lifted your hands slightly, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Now that it’s real, though, I’m not sure I’ll ever let you go.”

Harvey’s heart was just about ready to leap from his chest.

“You won’t ever have to,” he vowed. “Never again.”

“That’s a big promise.”

“It’s one I’m willing to make.”

“When did you get so bold?”

“When you became mine.”

Your eyes narrowed, flicking between his eyes and lips. “Is that what I am?” you questioned, voice light and innocent. “Yours?”

Slow, Harvey. You said you would take it slow.

He feigned a cough, looking away. “That’s what the bouquet meant, right?” he asked, raising one hand to swipe his mustache. “It means we’re official.”

The look you gave him was teasing, dangerous, but you covered it up with a laugh, starting to walk with him back towards the door. Blueberry had disappeared from your shoulder at some point; Harvey guessed even spirits grew tired of couples dancing around each other.

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

“‘Home’?”

You looked back at him, huffing. “We’re official, right? That means you get to help me finish up the chores for the day.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded. 

Chores. He could do chores. He’d done plenty of chores with you before, when the ache in your grandfather’s back became too much and he needed a couple extra pair of hands. Chores would be good for him, Harvey thought. They would keep his mind off the uncomfortable tightness in his pants that’d been taunting him for hours, keep his dirty thoughts at bay, hopefully even keep some distance between the two of you, just for a little. Just until he could calm himself down and remind himself he was supposed to be going slow.

“You can spend the night, too.”

His face fell.

I’m screwed.

[sellasstories]

SWEET

word count: 1.5k

pairing: paige bueckers x azzi fudd

⚠️warnings⚠️

hurt/comfort, angst, swearing

prompts:

paige is upset at her team and misses azzi

pazzi are each other’s person but haven’t figured out exactly what that means

title from the cigarettes after sex song (somewhat inspired)

Paige breathed a sigh of relief when the final buzzer sounded. It should’ve been a relatively easy game, but this season had been anything but easy so far and she hadn’t been taking anything for granted, especially since Azzi got hurt again.

Azzi…. through the photos, autographs, and media, Paige couldn’t help her mind from drifting back to her. Azzi, her rock, her person, her best friend… maybe that last one wasn’t quite right anymore. They hadn’t put a label on anything yet, but she didn’t think that the parameters of “best friends” quite explained what they were to each other.

All she knew was that Azzi should’ve been a part of the win, not laying in a hospital bed. She knew sitting there watching must’ve been killing Azzi as much as it was killing Paige to not have her on the floor.

The team was already chattering excitedly when she stepped onto the bus.

“There she is! P-SKIII!” cheered KK, trying to get her to join in on whatever silly dance her and Aubrey were doing.

“Thanks KK, but I’m too tired for all this. I think I’m gonna go pass out in the back if anyone needs me.” She ignored the confused looks of most of her teammates.

Aaliyah must have seen the look in her eyes because she spoke up suddenly. “You guys heard her, her back hurts from carrying your sorry asses with her 34 and 12!”

As everyone laughed, Paige shot Aaliyah a grateful look and went to sit down. After making sure that no one was paying any attention to her, she pulled out her phone and called Azzi, who picked up almost immediately.

“Congratulations! I watched the whole thing and I’m so proud of you guys!” Azzi’s excitement was painfully fake, even over the phone.

“Thanks,” Paige mumbled hollowly. “You know you don’t have to pretend with me, right?”

“I know, it’s just that you finally got a win and we really need those right now and I… didn’t wanna take away from that, I guess,” Azzi sighed. Her voice had lost all its prior enthusiasm.

Paige wasn’t prepared for how broken Azzi sounded. Despite her best efforts to blink them back, her eyes began to fill with tears. “Don’t worry about anything like that. It wasn’t a good win and we both know it. I guess I played fine, but where is the rest of this fucking team?”

Paige knew it was unfair, but she couldn’t stop herself from saying it. “Where are you, Az? I need you.”

The call lapsed into silence, Paige trying to stop the tears from leaking out of her eyes while, alone in a hospital bed, Azzi’s cheeks were already wet.

“No, Azzi, stop it. You’re not allowed to be crying right now,” Paige leaned her head against the bus window.

“How did you kno- whatever, you’re literally crying too, baby,” Azzi was quick to reply when she heard the tremor in the other girl’s voice. “I should be there for you, I don’t know why shit like this keeps happening.”

Paige gave up on wiping the tears now freely flowing down her face.

“I can’t have you crying because of me, I can’t. It’s just a game- well it’s not just a game but it’s also not your life. You shouldn’t have this — shouldn’t have my problems — on your mind as well! It’s not fair to you, it just isn’t.” She went silent, realizing she’d let slip more than she’d intended to.

“How can you even say that when you’ve cried over me more times than I can remember?” Azzi asked incredulously. “You’re right, Paige, it’s not just a game, it’s your whole life, and mine! It’s the reason I’m here right now, still fighting for a chance at one of the most important things in the world to me, to both of us.”

So many miles away, Paige’s broken sigh was a shot straight through Azzi’s heart.

“I’m tired, Azzi. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be… I miss you.” The last part was whispered like a confession, Paige seemingly still not sure if it was something that she could just say.

“I know, P. None of this is fair. I miss you too.” It came out easier for Azzi. She’d always been better at stuff like that.

Neither girl knew what to say after that, the only sounds on the call being soft breathing and faint sounds of rain hitting the bus’s windows.

“It’s raining here, like a lot. It’s kinda soothing if you close your eyes,” Paige broke the silence, her voice a bit rough.

Azzi wiped her eyes, squinting at the curtains drawn over the window in her room. “I think it’s raining here too,” she finally said.

Paige sat in silence as she listened to Azzi call for a nurse to come open her window.

“It is kinda nice, you’re right.” Azzi took a deep breath as the soft pattering of raindrops filled her ears.

“Can I say that I miss you again?” Paige asked after another long silence.

“You can say anything to me.” Azzi’s voice was suddenly groggy.

“It’s late. I think you should go to sleep. I’ll see you when I get back.” Paige couldn’t hide the fondness in her voice.

“No, I’ll stay up with you. I’m not even tired, I promise.” Azzi tried to argue despite the heaviness of her voice.

Paige waited a while before answering. “You know it’s gonna be another couple of hours. I don’t mind, I promise.” She mirrored Azzi’s words.

There was nothing but silence on the line.

“Hey, Az?” Getting no response, Paige listened for a few minutes before she hung up, Azzi’s peaceful deep breathing eventually coming through.

She looked ahead at her teammates still celebrating and decided she’d just try to get some sleep herself.

•••••

The light knocking on Azzi’s door blended with the sounds of the rain, not waking her up. “I can come back tomorrow, she should probably sleep,” Paige sighed, trying to hide how close she was to breaking down again.

“Are you sure? I think she’d want to see you,” The nurse looked confused. “She seemed quite adamant when she told me to let you in any time, no matter what.”

Paige was speechless. It wasn’t even all that surprising as she knew that she’d do the same for Azzi, but the confirmation of those feelings being reciprocated meant a lot more to Paige than she thought it would.

Seeing Paige’s indecision, the nurse placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m just going to unlock the door for you, honey, and you can figure out what you want to do,” she said kindly. “You’re a great girlfriend, by the way,” she tossed over her shoulder as she walked away.

“We’re not-” Paige started to say automatically, trailing off when she realized that she liked other people thinking of her and Azzi that way.

After hesitating outside the door for another minute, Paige slowly turned the handle, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Azzi’s room was dark, the only light being the sliver coming in from the hallway. It illuminated her sleeping face, and she looked so peaceful that Paige almost left again, not wanting to disturb her at all.

Shutting the door, Paige was fumbling for the switch on a lamp in the corner of the room when she heard Azzi’s blankets rustle.

“…Paige?” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes as Paige located the switch and light flooded the room.

“Hey, I’m here,” Paige said softly.

Azzi opened her arms and Paige crawled into her bed, neither of them minding that the size of it forced their bodies to be pressed against each other.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” Azzi pressed her lips to the top of Paige’s head, her fingers combing through blonde hair.

Paige lifted her head to meet Azzi’s eyes. “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you were actually resting like you were supposed to be,” she smirked, dodging the other girl’s attempt to flick her forehead.

Azzi’s retort was cut off by Paige’s lips pressing against hers, both girls smiling into the kiss. They pulled apart, foreheads pressed together.

In the intimacy of their little bubble, Azzi allowed a confession to slip out. “I’m glad you came. It means a lot.” The words may not have been anything novel, but she could tell that Paige understood why she said them so solemnly.

“Azzi, I…” Paige swallowed, embarrassed, and buried her face in Azzi’s neck.

“I know you do, P,” Azzi reassured her with a soft smile. “Me too. You don’t have to say it.” She knew that Paige wasn’t ready, and that was okay. She was here in Azzi’s arms, and for now, that was more than enough.

[leclsrc]

hi auds!! it's my birthday today ;) i never send reqs i know you get a whole ton of them but if you ever got around to this- i think the f1 fic world has a very worrying lack of aus. so could i get a band!charles au drabble where he writes a song about reader and she hears it on the radio? any song you like. reader could be driver or something or connected to f1 if thats cool !!! thank you sm!! i love you

knee socks – cl16

There’s a certain inevitability that comes with having sex with a misaligned, conceited lead guitarist of a band. You aren’t aware of this fact until it hits you in-between your brows with the force of an 18-wheeler truck, at 8AM, through the radio in your car.

genre: drabble... lots of smutty allusions

auds here... happy birthday anon, one month and then some later! to be completely honest i almost deleted this... but through some twist of fate, it was the only thing i could bully into completion lol (aside frm long form fics that i'm still working on) this is 1000% for u and i hope u accept it as a belated bday gift :) i agree btw! id love to see more au fics but it is still nice reading the canon compliant type ones hahah. also the song in this and its and title is of course from this

It was surprising enough to hear an announcement of a new single by The Incident, one that seemingly sprouted out of nowhere, sans promotion. The morning BBC show clobbered the song with theories before finally letting the drawled-out, sticky guitar filter through and into your car. That in itself was odd, sure. Maybe shocking a little. But you leaned into the leather seat and remained quiet.

When you were fifteen, you were convinced the lyrics to Hall & Oates’ “Rich Girl” pinned up perfectly to your (insufferable) personality of the time. Raised in a big family and working in a career of refined prestige, your budding skill and already-cemented name in the modeling industry were just two small indicators of your parents’ massive wealth. Of course, neither Hall nor Oates were actually sitting and writing songs and singing about you—you just found it made sense in one way or another.

That was three years before you met Charles three years ago, at a pub in Soho. His band had only just spilled out of the confines of Soundcloud and seedy managers; they’d broken five million monthly listeners and the throng of people were there to watch them live. You were at the pub for a pint with another friend and left him with your number, a slip of paper tinged with beer; he fished out the nearest surface you could write on from a nearby bowl. Do I Wanna Know? it read in rushed cursive. It was a song request that went unfulfilled.

Rumors flew in your circle. Your father soured at the idea of you seeing somebody he wasn’t actively doing business with, but he failed to realize how limited your dating pool would be if you followed his wishes. Your interactions with the Formula One men he sponsored or worked with, however few and far between, were rancid and impolite. The drivers wore expensive brands, ones that didn’t even fall familiar on people’s ears, but refused to tip beyond three pounds. It came as both a shock and no surprise that the nouveau rich rock singer treated you with more decency than any of them did.

He was shy about it first, knowing how filthy rich you were. He made jokes about how his flat could fit in your kitchen twice over. He spoke what little French he remembered from childhood to impress you, paid for takeout, wore Lacoste when he came over to drink—then fuck—because it was, at the time, the most decent brand he owned. It’d been January when he came over, caught a sight of you at the foyer with all your expensive coats hung up. Your tongue was blue with a lozenge. It was the only thing he could look at while fucking you.

He wore a light blue variant once, fit and snug on him. You wrestled it off him in-between hot, sweet kisses, kept it on your bed so it’d be the first thing you tugged on in the morning before a shoot for a brand you can no longer place.

The last time you saw him he’d shown you lyrics, sang them aloud, drummed the beat he thought of on the skin of your thigh. His accent disappeared into rasp and notes. You told him to perform it live and he fucked you splayed up against your door, bent over your counter, then with your knees pressed to your chest on your white sheets, warm from the laundry. S’good for me, aren’t you, princess? All for me. My filthy girl.

Two hours later: I’m going on tour, sweetheart, he’d said while he cleaned you up.

’Til? Or… like, for long? Naked, you wrapped your blanket around your frame.

Ah, oui. For a while. 

You failed to answer amicably, your eyebrows twisting. You didn’t think to tell me? Just up and leave then? No number, no text, no announcement, just— You exhaled tightly. You knew he didn’t owe you anything of the sort; the sex, you guessed, the company had been so good you’d deluded yourself into thinking so.

Kitten—

Don’t call me that, you huffed, angrier now. Petulant. You got up and crowded him ’til you got to the door. Get the fuck out.

You watched him leave, brown leather jacket and black tee disappearing into London, and wrenched memories of him from the depths of your brain, the two years of your back and forth rendezvous. You wondered why you didn’t get a song in that time, after his ascent to fame, after the release of other hit singles inspired by his bandmates’ gossip rags and measly shags.

So a year later, when the memories have just begun to purge themselves—when the lyrics, which already have sent a swoop through your stomach, progress into the line When you walked around your house wearin' my sky blue Lacoste… and your knee socks, you effectively choke on your a.m. cappucino. It’s like “Rich Girl” all over again, but this is overt, it’s targeted. Like whoever wrote it must’ve known you’d be listening right now, en route to a shoot at eight in the morning.

“All good, miss?” Ed, your chauffeur, meets your eyes in the rearview, concerned.

“Perf—” your voice cracks. “Perfect.”

You screw your eyes shut and try to collect yourself, zeroing in on the lyrics that’d been foggy before.

Curing his January blues—the month you two started sleeping together.The fact that he’d had your number, a famous stranger, before you had his. Every beat, every word, every deep-voiced lyric traces back to you (unless, of course, he’s busying himself shagging any other girl in London on rainy Tuesdays and letting her wear his now-old polos. The thought sends a pang of jealousy through you.)

But you know better. You know you’re the only one.

Because your phone’s the only one buzzing late into the damp night—when the zeroes line up on the clock by your bed, the one he fixed up for you—with a number you’ve removed the name of, blocked at some point, but can still memorize in his absence.

Maybe tonight you’ll pick up.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (3)

The Bench

On Arianwyn’s tenth nameday, a grand reception is held in her honor. Though most guests are not in attendance for the Lady of Runestone, but rather the Princess Rhaenyra, who is mere weeks away from giving birth. But Arianwyn does not care, for Aemond is there. And he has a present for her.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)

Warnings: none

Author's Note: This chapter just had minor edits. I've realized that in early chapters I kind of jumped around with POVs, so I've fixed that. Enjoy!

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The nameday celebrations for Aria were far humbler than those for her cousins who held the titles of prince and princess. It drove Aemond mad, for she surely deserved at least an equal celebration, if not grander. But she was still the daughter of a prince and a favorite of the queen. So, on her tenth nameday, a grand reception was held in her honor.

While formal invitations for her past celebrations were sent to all the noble houses of Westeros, only House Royce and their bannermen from the coast of the Vale had dutifully journeyed to the capital to observe the occasion each year. The rest of the court came and went as their own agendas dictated. Indeed, while many were in attendance this year, Aria was not the reason why.

Rhaenyra was with child once again. Though still weeks away from the birth, the nobility of Westeros was eager to ensure their presence at the birth of the newest Targaryen. Aemond and Aria had finally learned why.

Jacaerys and Lucerys were bastards. It meant Laenor was not their father, and their mother was a whore.

It was not hard to see it, now that he knew. Neither had the white hair or violet eyes of a Valyrian child, but rather hair as black as raven’s feathers and eyes a deep brown, like muddy water. Had it been just Jacaerys, perhaps the court could have overlooked his common appearance. After all, his presumed paternal grandmother, Rhaenys Velaryon, was half Baratheon. But even the Queen Who Never Was was blessed with the violet eyes of her father’s house.

When Lucerys was born looking as ordinary as his brother, the court began looking beyond her husband’s family. Most eyes fell upon her sworn protector and Lord Commander of the City Watch, Harwin Strong. The son of the Hand sported the same coloration as the young princes and often visited their rooms in Maegor’s Holdfast when he visited the Red Keep for Small Council meetings – despite the two towers being on opposite ends of the castle.

But while it was clear for all to see, their bastardy never left whispered conversations in empty corridors. At least, not anymore. Not since Ser Evin Tascer had ended an evening of heavy drinking on a cart to the Wall – without a tongue. But the gossip persisted, though out of the king’s earshot. His mother had forbidden him from mentioning it in public.

That didn’t stop him from teasing them about it in private. It was rightfully deserved after all they’d done to him – and obviously true. He only ever felt bad about it when Aria found out and scolded him.

Many suspected Rhaenyra was purposeful in avoiding another pregnancy. After all, the princes were born only a year apart, and Lucerys was already nearly six years old. With no miscarriages or other devastating accidents reported and the princess still young, there seemed to be no other explanation.

But now she was again with child, and every noble in Westeros waited with bated breath to look upon the babe – and its hair. As the birth neared, more and more nobility descended on the capital to ensure they were among the first to know. It just so happened that Aria's nameday coincided with the deluge of Westerosi nobility.

But Aria had not once mentioned that it bothered her. The gardens of the Red Keep were bursting with nobles in colorful and elaborate clothing adorned with glimmering jewels. Aemond was more than content to let her pretend it was all for her – it was his way of protecting her.

After all, it was her nameday, one of Aemond’s favorite days of the year. On this day, he got to spend the whole day with her without having to go to the Dragonpit. And she smiled so much. It was also one of the few times they got to see her cousin, Ser Gerold, who always encouraged their research and praised their dedication to learning about their family histories.

He arrived at King’s Landing as always, with a carriage overflowing with gifts. As usual, a great number of these were ancient artifacts of House Royce. After ten years, her quarters nearly rivaled the vault at Runestone.

Of course, he also brought her new novelties—books filled with fantastical illustrations depicting fairy tales and historical tales alike; carved wooden toys painted in the colors of their house that, at this point, she was decidedly too old for; dresses of the finest silks and brocades; and jewels of all kinds set in gold, silver, and, naturally, bronze.

Aemond knew his present would outshine it all. It was not a relic of her family nor a decadent new creation. It was old, yes, but humble in appearance.

He had slipped into her rooms earlier that morning, his gift wrapped in simple brown parchment and clutched tightly in his arms. As the second son of a King, he’d become accustomed to being looked over and learned to turn it to his advantage. So it was easy for him to slip past Aria’s guards and her lady’s maids to make his way to her dressing room.

She sat at her vanity, holding various jewels up to her neck, her eyes scrunched as she assessed each one against her black and bronze dress. Aemond slipped from behind a wooden screen as she picked up a delicate silver chain dripping with diamonds. Her grey eyes spotted the movement in her mirror, and she met his gaze through the glass.

“Happy nameday, Aria,” he whispered, a gleeful smile on his face.

Her smile quickly matched his, and she whipped around on her seat, the diamond necklace clattering forgotten on the vanity. “Is that for me?” she asked, pointing at the package he held.

Aemond nodded, running up to meet her. She immediately tore into the paper like a dragon eviscerating its prey. He laughed, more excited about giving her this gift than he had ever been to receive one himself.

It was an old book, a thoroughly unimpressive tattered tome. The binding was linen—not leather—and had not weathered the years well. The fiber had degraded so much in places along the spine that the reed and twine holding the pages together were visible. The pages themselves were yellow with age, stiff, and uneven. It was unclear whether they had been torn through centuries of use by countless users or cut that way originally by an inexperienced craftsman.

He knew that all that would matter to Aria was the title: Deciphering the Runes of the First Men.

“Where did you get this?” She asked, eyes wide and mouth agape – precisely the reaction Aemond had hoped for.

Their routine of visiting the castle library to research their families' histories had continued, but over the years, there were questions that even Orwyle could not answer. Many pertaining to the Runes of the First Men. The Runes that appeared on many of Aria’s belongings and gave her keep its name. Orwyle had corresponded with his colleagues in Oldtown over the years to try and answer their questions. However, information on the Runes was scarce, even in the regions of Westeros that still clung to that history.

But now, on the morning of her nameday, she at last held a book that may contain the answers she sought. Setting the book carefully on her vanity, she leaped from her vanity stool and straight into Aemond’s arms, her question entirely forgotten.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she squealed, holding her cousin so tight he struggled to breathe. “I hardly even need the party anymore. You’ve already made this the best nameday ever.”

Aemond hugged her back, face flushing at her gush of praise. “I don’t think my mother would approve. She’s spent weeks planning the party.”

Aria withdrew from the hug, sighing dramatically. “Fine. If we still have to have the party, help me choose a necklace so we can go and get it over with.”

She returned to the vanity, smiling mischievously at Aemond in the mirror. Still laughing, he sat beside her and began rifle through her jewelry box.

Hours later, in the gardens, Arianwyn impatiently fiddled with her necklace. Aemond had chosen one of braided bronze and silver chains, with a smattering of various jewels woven in. The day was growing hot, and Alicent and Gerold relentlessly continued to lead her throughout the party and present her to so many people that her head started to spin.

She was finally granted a reprieve when a servant pulled Alicent aside to discuss the alarming rate at which the pastries were disappearing from the table. As soon as her Aunt’s attention was off her, Arianwyn thanked Ser Gerold for coming and ran to the other end of the garden as fast as she could.

Helaena and Aemond sat on a bench together against the garden wall. Entirely disinterested in the party, they watched honeybees land clumsily on the plate set between them, lapping up droplets of the sugary punch Helaena poured for them.

“There are only ten now,” Helaena said when she sensed her cousin’s presence, though her eyes remained steadfastly focused on the plate. “But a few moments ago, there were twenty-one.”

Arianwyn smiled, glad she had arrived after most of the bees had left. “Do they like the punch?” This conversation was already far more interesting than any she had with any of the other party guests.

“They do,” Helaena said, tipping her goblet to spill more on the plate. “But when they fly away, they seem clumsier than usual.”

Aemond laughed, looking up from his sister’s experiment to his cousin. “Of course they are. They’re drunk, Helaena. There’s wine in the punch.”

Though Helaena seemed horrified at the prospect, Arianwyn couldn’t help but laugh. “If you give them enough, they may start acting like Aegon.”

At this, Helaena at last joined in the laughter. But it did not last long.

As if summoned by the sound of his name, Aegon emerged from the crowd, Jace and Luke trailing behind him.

“Were you saying something about me, dear Aria?” He drawled. Like the bees, he was already quite wobbly. “You know it’s not nice to gossip.” He pursed his lips before chuckling, the two younger boys joining him. Luke dropped his head as he laughed. Jace smirked, looking directly at Arianwyn.

Aemond began to quiet. His smile faded, and he turned his head down, staring at his hands. Arianwyn would not allow this on her nameday.

“We’re simply having fun at my party, cousin.” She said, venom sneaking into her voice. She stepped slightly in front of Aemond. “Are you?”

Aegon scoffed, “As much as I can, I suppose. Though I can’t say the conversation has been particularly stimulating. Most of the people here only want to talk about Rhaenyra,” he spat the name of his sister as if it were a curse, “and the others about you.”

“It’s my nameday,” she snapped back. “Why should they not be talking about me?”

Aegon’s smile grew unsettlingly wide. Taking another deep swig from his cup, he moved closer to her, so close she had to crane her neck to look into his eyes. “Do you know what they’re saying, Aria?”

She felt her face flush with anger. Aegon had few talents, but his careful cruelty was undoubtedly one of them.

“I’ll give you a hint. They aren’t talking about that garish bronze armor your cousin brought you. Though I’m not sure why –  it’s truly horrendous.” He looked back at Jace and Luke, signaling them to laugh. They did.

When Arianwyn continued her silence, Aegon leaned down, his face close enough for her to smell the alcohol on his breath. “Ten is an important number, cousin. You’re not just a girl anymore. You’re well on your way to becoming a woman.” He reached to touch her cheek, but she slapped his hand away, baring her teeth.

“Do you wonder why my mother has been parading you around like a prize mare? Today is the day you officially go to market, Aria. As soon as your father finally acknowledges you even exist and agrees to a deal, you’ll be shipped off to the highest bidder. If you’re lucky, he’ll be kind enough to not bed you until you’re older.”

Arianwyn shrieked in anger, gathering all her strength to push Aegon away from her. He just laughed as he stumbled back. She wanted to hit him more, hit him harder, but she did not want to make a scene at her own party – it would just give him more reason to mock her.

“Come, Aemond,” she commanded, seizing his hand. “I’m tired of the party. Let’s go to the library.” He did not argue, letting her drag him off the bench without resistance.

With his fun over, Aegon left the bench and returned to the throng of people, his two raven-haired lackeys close behind. Only Helaena remained, and two of her honeybees. She dipped a finger into the punch, letting one of the insects crawl onto her fingernail to drink.

“The silver mare shall never be sold,” she whispered.

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