#genuinely felt so refreshing and exciting

[unusualtfs]

Mr. Entwistle

truly blown away by the incredible response to my first story! hope you enjoy this one as well — it's the first of many age progressions to come!

A little voice in Daniel’s head whispered that he really shouldn’t be doing this, but he ignored it as he lifted his twinkish frame over the fence into Mr. Entwistle’s backyard. So what if this was technically breaking and entering? Really, Mr. Entwistle had started it.

The situation was this: Growing up, Daniel had been neighbors with a sweet old lady named Mrs. Owens. She made the best cookies and instantly charmed everyone she met, but most importantly, she had a pool in her backyard — and everyone was invited to use it. The neighborhood children eagerly took advantage of this arrangement, Daniel most of all. He took to it like a duck to water, spending hours perfecting his form, and his hard work paid off when he was offered a scholarship to compete for his university’s swim team. Suffice it to say, the property may have been Mrs Owens’, but everybody knew the pool really belonged to Daniel.

So imagine his dismay when he returned home from his first year in college only to find the pool had been walled off, sealed away in plastic and plexiglass. Apparently, Mrs. Owens had moved to be closer to her grandkids — and her replacement was her polar opposite in every way. 

Mr. Entwistle was a middle-aged man who never seemed to smile. He was tall and broad, but not notably so, and in any case his dad bod was invariably obscured by his business-casual uniform of a dumpy dress shirt and drab khakis. Combined with his rapidly thinning auburn hair and his just-starting-to-gray beard, it all added up to make him the epitome of middle-aged male mediocrity. The only noteworthy thing about his appearance was that Daniel could have sworn he had spotted a wedding ring on his finger. But if the man had a wife, Daniel had never seen her.

In terms of Mr Entwistle’s personality, there wasn’t much to speak of. He was cold and taciturn, gazing at everyone with a vaguely disapproving look in his eyes. This was reflected in his daily routine, which consisted of him exiting the house at 8 on the dot, driving to wherever it was he worked, returning at 6, and disappearing until the cycle repeated itself the next morning. Insultingly, at no point in this schedule did he even use the pool — it just sat there in its cage, its chlorinated waters placid and lonely. But on the flip side, Mr. Entwistle’s rigid routine made it trivial for Daniel to plan his little heist.

It was currently 10 in the morning, which meant Mr. Entwistle was at work and wouldn’t be home for hours. And Daniel planned to spend each and every one of those hours swimming in the pool that was rightfully his. Not wanting to delay, he stripped down to his baggy green swim trunks, revealing his pasty, lanky, and hairless body. He quickly snapped a cheeky selfie to commemorate his audacity.

He could already feel his pale skin beginning to burn in the sweltering summer sun, so without further ado, he dove into the pool with perfect form, leaving behind only the faintest ripple.

The water was cool and refreshing, and for a moment, Daniel allowed himself to just tread water as he basked in the sensation. But it wasn’t just the feeling of the pool water lapping against his skin that excited him — it was also the thought that he was reclaiming his property, his territory, from that interloper Mr. Entwistle. His cock briefly rose to its underwhelming length of 4 inches at that rebellious idea, but his swim trunks were so baggy that they entirely concealed his boner. Well, it didn’t matter — he had better things to do in this pool.

Once his erection had receded, Daniel got started on his training regimen, doing laps around the pool until his entire body tired. At that point, he allowed himself to mindlessly float on the surface until he felt rejuvenated enough to continue. But even when he was exhausted, his face displayed a wide, genuine grin — it felt good to be back in this pool. It was somewhere he truly felt at home. 

Occasionally, he paused his training to swim to the deck and check the time on his phone, wanting to give himself plenty of time to leave. Right now, it was 1:33, which should have given him plenty more hours of pool time. The key phrase was should have, because at that moment, Daniel heard the telltale rumble of Mr. Entwistle’s car pulling up in the driveway.

Oh shit, Daniel thought. That’s not good. You see, there was one unexpected variable in Mr. Entwistle’s schedule. On certain days, he came home from work in the early afternoon — and when that happened, rather than entering the house through the front door, he liked to go through the gate to the backyard and relax by the poolside. These short days at work seemed to follow no rhyme or reason that Daniel could perceive, but Mr. Entwistle had just had one the previous day, so Daniel had assumed it wouldn’t be an issue. Evidently, he’d assumed wrong.

Panic set in as Daniel realized he had just seconds to escape before Mr. Entwistle arrived to witness his trespassing. That panic soon became despair as his eyes darted between his phone and his scattered clothes, forced to admit that he’d never make it out in time. As he heard the car door slam shut and Mr. Entwistle’s heavy footsteps trudge toward the backyard gate, Daniel grew desperate. And in his desperation, he did the one thing he could think of — he took a deep breath and dove underwater, praying that its turquoise hue would hide him from view.

Through the muddled underwater light, Daniel watched, terrified, as his neighbor’s silhouette walked down the pool deck. A few seconds passed, and he gave a mental sigh of relief. It seemed Mr. Entwistle somehow didn’t notice either Daniel or his belongings strewn across the patio. Of course, from his submerged vantage point, Daniel had no way of noticing his clothes and his phone fading into nothingness above him.

Mr. Entwistle remained up there for a minute, then another. Daniel was quite strong at holding his breath, but he couldn’t keep at it forever, and he was quickly reaching his limit. Just when Daniel thought he would be forced to abandon his hiding spot, a miracle happened — Mr. Entwistle got up and went inside, probably to use the bathroom.

As soon as Mr. Entwistle was out of sight, Daniel rushed to the surface, his lungs burning. But rather than emerging into the bright sunlight, he instead felt his head hit something solid with a muted thunk! Alarmed, he reached his hands out and found them unable to breach the line between the water and the air. There was some kind of invisible barrier covering the pool, preventing him from surfacing! He banged on it, pushed against it with all his might, but it was no use. He was trapped.

Now Daniel was in full panic mode. He was about to drown! Was this his punishment for breaking into his neighbor’s property? He tried to conserve his remaining air for as long as possible, but he only lasted a minute more. With his air depleted and his time up, he inhaled.

Surprisingly, he didn’t die. In fact, it was as if he could breathe underwater. Although he could feel the pool water entering his lungs, it was a rather pleasant feeling, filling his chest with pleasurable warmth. He didn’t notice that this wasn’t all that was happening to his chest. As he greedily inhaled more and more water, his torso rapidly inflated, bulging with muscle. His previously flat chest grew into two balloon-like pecs, and he developed chiseled abs far more prominent than anything his lithe swimmer’s build had previously allowed. His back grew, too, developing an immaculate triangle shape that any man would kill for.

Daniel now had the torso of an Adonis, which looked quite strange in tandem with the rest of his skinny body. But he wasn’t quite done yet. One last gulp of water caused a layer of fat to grow over his muscular middle, thickening him up while doing nothing to hide the strength that lay underneath. It was a shame that such an impressive body had no hair to accompany it, but that soon changed as Daniel felt pins and needles erupt across his torso. Black hair erupted everywhere the sensation appeared, and soon his chest, stomach, and back were covered by a carpet of the stuff — a vast improvement over his previous hairlessness.

Its work done in that region, the lovely warmth moved out to his appendages, where the process repeated. First he gained bodybuilder levels of muscle — biceps, triceps, quads — and then an additional layer of padding and hair to complete the package. As an extra perk, a tattoo appeared on his left shoulder, a simple, masculine thing that would have looked out of place on the man he had been but fit perfectly on the man he was becoming.

From there, the warmth migrated to his extremities, turning his delicate and skinny hands and feet into meaty and calloused bludgeons. His fingernails and toenails, one perfectly groomed, became cracked and weathered. His feet also grew tremendously, exploding into a monstrous size 15.

Next was his head. As the pleasant warmth traveled up his neck, Daniel’s vocal folds thickened, dropping his voice from a youthful tenor to a rumbling bass. He felt a satisfying cracking sensation as his facial features shifted. His nose became squatter, his brow became much more prominent, and his sharp chin became wider and rounder. Every part of his face did, actually, as it grew fatter, making it difficult to tell when his neck ended and his head began. 

His face sagged a little as it became weathered and slightly wrinkled, as did the rest of his body. Daniel now appeared to be well into middle age, a far cry from his former self. Adding to that impression was the fact that all the hair atop his head was beginning to fall out, floating freely in the water before vanishing entirely. Soon his head was entirely bald, proudly exposing his smooth, shiny scalp to the world forevermore. As if to counterbalance that, he rapidly grew a well-groomed goatee, surrounding his mouth with a thick circle of hair.

The warm water centralized in Daniel’s brain, rendering him in a state of total, blissful calm. At some point in the process, he noticed all that was happening to him, but it was so relaxing and so pleasurable that he couldn’t bring himself to care. So he didn’t question it as thoughts and truths started rearranging in his head. The burgeoning knowledge and potential he had gained in his first year of college drained away, permanently slowing his brain to a sluggish crawl. He was dumb, and he didn’t care. In place of intelligence, more important skills entered his head, and suddenly he was an expert at bodybuilding and auto mechanics. That’s what he was now, an auto mechanic, although he hated to get dirty. No, wait, that wasn’t right, he realized. While Daniel the young swimmer couldn’t stand dirt and grime, Daniel the middle-aged mechanic couldn’t get enough of the feeling of sweat and engine grease on his body. That was just one facet of the cockier, manlier personality he was developing. Ironically, the new him wasn’t even all that into swimming, except as a means to cool off or show off his hot bod.

At this point, anyone who looked at this burly bear of a man would have no inkling of the weak little twink he used to be. There was just one incongruity left — his cock. His previously baggy swim trunks were now skin tight against his tree trunk thighs, exposing his 4-incher to the world. But a man like Daniel wasn’t meant to have such a glaring weak point, so the warmth rushed down to his penis, bringing with it all his memories and traits from his old life. They filled his balls, inflating them twofold, and aroused him like nothing he’d felt before. In the midst of the pleasure, his cock suddenly went soft, but it remained the same length — and then it hardened again, doubling to a monumental 8 inches that strained against his trunks. The trunks themselves shrunk into a black Speedo that left nothing to the imagination, making his cock even more prominent.

The arousal was so great that Daniel immediately found himself jacking off, moaning every time his fingers brushed his sensitive manhood. However, something within Daniel prevented him from going all the way. Deep down, he knew that if he allowed himself to give in to the pleasure, he would lose everything that made him, him. So slowly, reluctantly, he separated his meaty hands from his throbbing erection.

But then a face appeared in his mind’s eye — Mr. Entwistle’s. No, his name is Scott, his mind corrected. And Daniel realized how wrong he had been to dismiss him as mediocre before, because Scott was truly the hottest man he had ever seen. Everything about him, from his receding hairline to his curly beard to his perfectly proportioned dad bod, got Daniel going like nothing else. More information about Scott entered Daniel’s head, information he should have had no way of knowing, but through his newfound adoration for the man he didn’t question any of it. It was just a fact of life that he loved Scott’s hairy body (not nearly as hairy as Daniel’s, obviously), and his work ethic, and his sharp intelligence, and the way he was really a big softie underneath that stern demeanor, and of course the hot and raunchy sex he had with him. Really, he loved everything about Scott Entwistle, his husband, and that epiphany was enough for him to climax, releasing his old self into his Speedo without even touching his prodigious cock.

The force of his orgasm physically propelled him upward, breaking the invisible barrier and allowing him to breach the surface as his new, better self — Dan Entwistle. 

Blinking to adjust to the afternoon light, Dan was faced with a welcome sight: Scott, his beautiful husband, lounging in a pool chair in nothing but trunks, his massive pouch clearly visible and ready for action.

Scott greeted him with a wry expression and a peace sign — his husband was a man of few words.

“Someone’s home early,” Dan said, relishing the sound of his sexy, masculine gravel. Not that his voice had ever been anything else.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Scott said in his sensual baritone.

“Well, Mr. Entwistle,” Dan replied, “consider me surprised.” Dan noticed Scott’s 7-inch sausage perking up at that. After all, Entwistle was Dan’s surname, which Scott had adopted after their wedding. To be called “Mr. Entwistle” was a reminder of their love — and a massive turn-on.

Knowing his horny husband was like putty in his hands, Dan stepped out of the water, fully revealing his godlike body — and giving Scott a full view of his bulge within his Speedo.

“I think that you deserve a reward for surprising me,” Dan said, feeling himself begin to chub up even though he’d just come minutes prior. “And this Speedo ain’t gonna hold much longer.” He winked, causing Scott to shiver. “Why don’t you hop in the pool with me and see how else you can surprise me?”

Scott licked his lips, clearly into it. “But babe… what if the neighbors see?”

“Oh, Mr. Entwistle…” Dan said. “That’s what this fence is for.” And he fell back in the water with a mighty splash, knowing his husband would follow.

[pastlight]

just finished watching a Pokemon SV playthrough

[jaynovz]

I'm never going to be over Silverflint they're literally in my veins forever

[blondemadona]

Everyone can have their obsession with whatever and move on but Carmilla will forever hold a place in my heart

[evilgwrl]

ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (Two)

Note: I feel like this is so bad im sorry!!!!

CW: Angst, titty sucking, passionate asf sex, simon missed ur pussy and you very much and vise versa, breeding kink, PIV (no protection, pls use it irl), squirting, simon eats the FUCK out of ur pussy, multiple orgasms, praise, hint of degradation, possessive!simon, OVERSTIMULATION, slight daddy kink… sorry

Part One

It was a quiet ride, the subtle sweeps of cars fleeting by as Simon gripped the wheel, eyes trailing off to the side to look at you briefly. Your head was leaned against the window, your knees knocking together anxiously as your daughter babbled in the back, cooing about how Mummy and Daddy were now back together.

You tried to hide the shed of tears that filtered across your iris, every small childish mumble like a stab to the gut as you listened to the genuine happiness in her tone. You would turn around occasionally with a small smile as you reached out to tickle her foot, giggles filling the car.

Simon pulled in, the car bouncing slightly as it hit the gravel carpark, his hand swerving into a spot before he turned to the back. “You excited, baby?”

Ella’s face lit up as she fumbled to take off her seatbelt, “Get me, Daddy! Get me! I wanna see the lions!” It was refreshing knowing she still viewed Simon as her hero, no matter how distant he was in their lives. You knew that even though your ex-husband was rarely around, his time with them did everything it could to mend the time apart. Toby woke up at the commotion, the toddler having slept the whole way there despite his older sister’s constant bickering about what animals she had to see first.

Everything seemed to flash past you as you walked inside, the whir of kids and noise sending your brain into overdrive as your eyes flickered to Simon with Ella swinging around on his shoulders and Toby kicking his legs in the stroller. You looked away; breath shaky as you attempted to compose yourself. This was supposed to be a happy day, for all of you, yet seeing him with your children, something that was supposed to be normal, felt so distant and unknown. Gathering yourself, you plastered a fake smile, hands reaching out to pinch your son’s cheeks as you grabbed the stroller.

Your heart hammered in your chest for the remainder of the day, fingers tingling with anxiety that bled into your veins, consuming your lungs with what seemed like everything but oxygen. It was a series of squeals and commotions from your young ones, their elation evident through the bright glow of their face, soft red resting on the apples of their cheeks. As the day quieted down, Toby slumped in the stroller as you tucked him into the car seat, his new plush crocodile cradled into his arms, mouth wide open as subtle breaths snored out.

Ella was cradled into Simon’s shoulder, her shoes half hanging off as she clutched onto him, dead asleep. You settled into the ride home yet your anxiety only seemed to heighten. You were alone with Simon, with no kiddish voices to break the tension, brown orbs glaring into the side of your face.

“Should we talk about this morning?”

You scoffed. “You have some nerve asking to talk about this morning,” you screamed into a hush, “What you did was completely disrespectful. Not only did you break into my house and kick my date out, but you left our kids in the car! What the fuck were you thinking?”

He cleared his throat, almost like he wanted to hold back how he felt. You noticed the white in his knuckles as he gripped the wheel, right eye twitching as he stared at the squiggles of tar ahead. “I don’t want our kids growing up thinking it’s normal for parents to separate. They need their mum and dad together, y/n.”

The world silenced for a second, the screams of the wind rushing past you seemed to slow as your voice cracked, seeps of emotion pouring out as you choked on your breath, “Then you should have fought for your family, Simon. There is no us anymore, it’s just them. They’re all that connects us now.”

You felt like all the ivory had been sucked out of your eyes, endless pits of your pupil consuming you whole, blurring your vision with fog as you blinked, hot streams of liquid salt spilling onto your cheeks, brimming at the cracks of your lips as you sniffled. You could feel his hesitation as he looked at you.

His words regurgitated in his throat as he stammered, tangled limbs reaching out to grip yours as you pulled away.

“Just drop us home.”

Your eyes had dried now, soft stains of bare skin caving through your foundation as you smudged your fingers against it. Simon stuttered as he pulled up to the driveway, tyres screeching to a halt as you sat in silence.

The soft strum of fingers caught your attention as you turned around, the innocent face of Toby looking back at his parents, tongue blabbing out of his mouth. “Dadda! You have dinner?”

“No, sport. Daddy’s gotta go-“

“Yeah, baby. Daddy will have dinner with us.”

You blinked at your own words, Simon’s surprised expression meeting yours. The wrench in your heart would never subside, the entirety of the beating organ still belonging to your ex-husband, but being a mother was a sacrifice. And you would sacrifice yourself in every existence you become one if it meant your children didn’t have to battle the same internal wounds.

“They’re tucked in,” Simon said, voice soft as he noticed your withered body in the couch. Your hair was messy now, strands spitting out as you anxiously tucked them back in, smoothing them down with the dampness of your palms as you ran around all night, ushering to the demands of your children.

“Thank you.”

You felt ill, your tongue cascading down your throat as you palmed at your knees, desperate for him to leave yet desperate for him to stay. Simon stilled, keys jangling in his hand before he sat down next to you, his weight disrupting the couch as he shuffled around.

“I need you to know that I did want to fight for you, y/n. I have counted every single day since you handed me those papers, waiting by my phone every single night on deployment hoping for you to text me, call me, fuck - blow my phone up. I never wanted the temporary absence that we had apart become permanent. Everything I said,” he breathed, voice cracking slightly as he looked away, “Everything I said on October 6th, 7 years ago, I meant. You weren’t supposed to get away from me - I shouldn’t have - I shouldn’t have let you get away from me.”

It was strange. Simon was never one for feelings, the brutality of his job allowed for any harsh emotions to crack through his fingers as he pulled a trigger, any dampness of tears would sweat through his skin as he pummelled a blade into an enemies head.

But it was you. And you weren’t violent, or any enemy, you were his wife, the person he vowed his entirety too.

Your anxious cascade cracked as you whimpered out a sob, chest heaving as you buried your face, tight with tears, into the pillows of your hands. You felt warmth spread through you, the texture of Simon’s fingers burning through you like wildfire, every ember he felt scorching through your flesh as he pulled you in.

Arms tangled together, intwining like wool as he wrapped you into his chest nimbly. A zephyr ran through you, your wrists clutched in his hands as you straddled him, the weight of you feeling like the grandest treasure upon him.

It was nothing strange, nor sexual but Simon recognised that cry, the differing pitch as you shuffled your frame into his. Simon knew you like the back of his hand, every crevice, every crease, every scar. He knew your backstory, and the one you made up to impress people. He knew the hex of the colour of your eyes and the print of your thumb. No papers would take that away from him.

Soaked eyelashes clumped into one as you looked up at him, orbs resembling once of a doe, innocence seeping through every inch of a salt-stained tear. His eyes met yours, apertures of cocoa reflecting your weary frame as you gripped onto him.

“Let me come home, please.”

Simon’s voice was desperate, it was raw, any shed of arrogance erased through the lines, eyebrows knotted together as he rubbed at the small of your back.

Your nod was subtle, but he could practically hear it, calloused hands gripping at the plush of your cheek and seeping through the tip of your spine, thumb rubbing at your earlobe as he clutched onto you.

Hot, seething pricks ran through your limbs as your lips connected, saline lining your mouth as he lapped at the heat of your tongue, rough groans leaving his lips as he savoured the taste.

Any diffidence left your body as familiarity sunk back into you. Hands pawed at the globe of your ass, gripping the flesh as anguished limbs wrapped around Simon’s waist.

With an easy tug, he lifted you, your hands wrapping around his neck as he pulled you in closer, teeth kissing. You never questioned Simon’s strength, and you wouldn’t start now as you felt your back hit your mattress.

He tugged at his shirt, the black fabric pooling on the floor as you sucked in a breath. Your eyes traced every scar, lighter flesh engraved into the skin of his torso, a short trail of hair disappearing into his pants as you stared at his burly physique.

Simon gripped at your shirt, the material practically ripping before his hands were at your chest, grabbing at your flesh desperately as you tangled your fingers into your bra, sliding it off. His mouth was hot on your chest, the sound of moans and pants filling the air as he positioned himself between your legs, teeth grazing the hard nubs, sucking with fervour as you whined, your hand at the base of his head, cradling it.

“Missed these so fucking much,” he practically whined, groping your tits as he pinched your nipples, lips sucking deep marks of possession into the soft skin. Your pants were desperate, begging him for more as you pulled his hair, fingernails clawing at his scalp.

Your hands fumbled with your pants, hips raising as he slid them off, clumsy fingers chucking them across the room as you laughed, lips connecting once more in a giggly state as his thumb pushed against the wetness of your panties.

“Missed how fucking wet you got for me. Such a good fucking girl,” he groaned, fingers rubbing at your heat through the thin cloth eliciting a pained moan from you.

“Simon - I need more, been so long.”

He choked out a laugh as his fingers hooked into the fabric, lace dribbling down your leg before he mewled at the sight of you. His hands held your thighs apart, your soaking cunt on display as it throbbed, slick folds glistening in the poor lighting.

“Prettiest fucking pussy,” he choked out to himself, placing your legs over his shoulder as he knelt down. Your back arched as you felt his tongue lick a long stripe of your pussy, his body seething for a taste of you as his lips found your neglected clit.

He lapped at you mercilessly, your cries and moans moulding into one with the filthy squelches of his mouth against your heat. Long digits circled your entrance, teasing you, before they curled in.

Your eyes rolled, pools of ivory exposed as you let out a guttural moan, your thighs tightening around his ears as he smirked against your pussy. Cocky fingers rubbed at the right spot, favouring the clench of your tight hole as he pulled every noise he could get from you.

You were barely cohesive as he lapped at your slick, the throbbing of your clit edging him on as he soothed your g-spot with the pad of his fingers. The coil you had only ever felt with Simon began to build, the familiar sensation pooling in your stomach as you stuttered out a whimper.

“Si- too much - I’m gonna-“

“That’s it baby,” he cooed, pulling away from your pussy for a second to take in your expression as you came, your face contorted with pleasure as your legs jerked, pussy wrapping tighter around his abusing digits as he fucked you through it with them. You looked down at him, saliva and your slick coating his mouth and chin as he grinned.

You stammered out a groan as his mouth attached back on your pussy, slurping up your liquid gold as you attempted to push his head away in overstimulation.

“Oh my- fuck - Simon - too much,” you whimpered your words commanding him to continue as he guzzled around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as your legs shook uncontrollably.

It wasn’t long before the continuation from your previous orgasm rose again, heat swarming your lower belly as you screamed out, your hand slapping over your mouth as you felt Simon’s spare hand wrap around your thigh, squeezing tightly.

You pulled at his hair, tugging at the ashy roots before you were gushing around his fingers and tongue again, sloshing liquids soaking your sheets as he groaned at the taste, mouth lapping it up with vigour. You whined in humiliation, the overwhelming pleasure becoming too much as you heaved.

“Si - no more -“

“I’m sorry baby, too fucking good. Will never get enough of your pussy.”

His words were filthy yet only held the truth, his continuous slurps against your heat causing your body to jerk as you relentlessly bucked your hips. Simon’s abuse continued on your pussy, your pussy gushing and coming another 6 times before he was satisfied, the sheet under you drenched in both your slick and squirt as Simon milked your overwhelmed cunt, claiming he was “making up for the months lost”.

You were dry heaving, throat dry as he captured your lips in a kiss, the taste of you infiltrating into your glands as you groaned, his hands reaching to tug at your breasts as he took in your fucked out state, legs jiggling and twitching as your pussy convulsed at the number of orgasms he dragged out of you.

You felt like you had been lying here for hours, yet you weren’t satisfied. You would only be content when he was inside you, stretching you to the brim as he pumped a load inside your worn-out hole.

“Simon - please - I can’t… I need you now,” you were practically crying, tears shedding at the brim of your eyes, bottom lip jutting out as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, slicking back the sweat on your forehead.

“I know baby, done so well for Daddy, hm? Even after all that you still need to be plugged full of me don’t you?”

You nodded as a harsh slap landed against your clit, your body jolting as you squeaked. “Yes, please,” you cried, “Please Daddy.”

His hands were like clockwork, tearing at his jeans as they released his cock, a satisfied groan leaving his body as he gripped at the tent in his pants, a sticky wet patch soaking the material before his length throbbed out, angry tip slapping his stomach as a trail of precum glistened against the base of his cock.

His dick was flushed red, begging for release as he ran it through the squelch of your sopping folds, rubbing against your manipulated clit as you moaned.

Your hands gripped his head as he leant down to kiss you, his arm holding him up while the other positioned himself at your entrance. He stilled for a moment, cock almost pressing in before he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

The words were soft yet meaningful, your eyes interlocked as he began to push inside, your mouth gasping open as you clutched onto his shoulders. It was hard when you were together all those years to get accustomed to his frightening length, and now it had been a year and the stretch was searing through you.

“I know, sweet girl, you can take it. Such a tight cunt for me, so fucking good.”

Fingernails clawed at his back as he pushed in, your whines muffled by the palm of his hand as he held himself up his elbows. “Holy fuck,” he spluttered as he bottomed out, his lips connecting to your neck as he sucked, resting inside you for a second as you whimpered.

The burn slowly faded as you rutted against him impatiently, the tip of his cock resting against your sweet spot as you gasped.

“So fucking impatient, always been such a slut for me. Haven’t you?”

You nodded, whining as he began to move, moving his hips slowly as he rubbed inside you perfectly, your mouth wide open as your head lolled back. A series of expletives tipped from your tongue as you choked on the air, Simon’s pace picking up at your dramatic noises.

“Fuck - taking me so well-“ he grunted, hands groping at your tits as he watched your pussy absorb his length. It was an obscene sight and he loved it. Every fibre of your being belonged to him and it was something he constantly craved.

“All fucking mine - shit - my fucking pussy,” he grunted, thumb rubbing at your clit as you mewled, twitching below him as he spat, “my fucking wife - got the tightest fucking cunt just for me.”

You clenched around him at his words, knowing it was true as his balls slapped against your ass, skin spanking against each other as the sound filled the room, ecstasy roaring through both of your veins as you made love.

The squelch of your pussy was taboo as he lapped in the missed sound. His eyes took in the way your body reacted to every movement, no matter how small. He took in the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, lower stomach bulging as he pounded into you.

“Fuck - Simon - oh my God,” your words were a mere blabber, barely making sense as you clutched onto him, pulling him down to meet your lips.

“I can’t pull out, baby - fuck - gotta cum in this pretty pussy. Give you another kid, hm? - shit -“

His hips didn’t falter as his pace fastened, chasing his own high as he rubbed at your clit, your breaths growing shallow as your orgasm began to build. “Gonna fill you with my cum until it takes. Need your belly round again and your tits full - such a good fucking mum, makes me so fucking proud.”

His words were the final straw as the build up in your stomach popped, your whole body convulsing as your pussy clenched around him, a loud groan leaving his throat before you felt the hot splashes of his cum pumping inside you.

“That’s it baby, milk my cock. Such a good fucking girl for Daddy, gonna break you apart everyday on my cock until you never forget who you belong too.”

He didn’t pull out immediately, his cum plugged inside you as some seeped out, rolling down the crevice of your ass below you. Your eyes shut, gentle pants leaving your lips as you felt Simon’s absence before a soft cloth was wiped gently across your sex and masculine arms were gripping onto you, carrying you into the guest room before engulfing you into a thrill of heat, Simon’s chest against your back as you fell asleep.

TAGLIST: @kiiwiipie @nijiru

Disclaimer: im sorry if this is disappointing im super tired :(((

[cupids-chamber]

— THE CONCUBINE GAME !! | chapter one . . . The first chapter, where you'll be able to catch a climpse of the inner dynamics between the emperor's y/n's secretary and their personal guard, a small entry and brief taste of what's to come, while learning a bit more about our beloved emperor and their staff . . .

— Themes ; Harem / historical au , Twisted wonderland , multiple characters x reader , royalty au , includes rsa + yuuka/yuuken. ♡

The wind was howling, the pitter patter sound of rain could be heard throughout the grand walls of the palace. The sound of heels clicking urgently on the wooden floors, echoing through the empty halls, as Yuuken rushed his way through to the emperor's chambers. It was late, yet he’d been overworked all week preparing the palace for the arrival of certain selected members of the Royal Harem, some were particularly demanding with the way they wanted things sorted out and Yuuken prided himself on never failing to impress. 

He banged on the door rather aggressively, “Your majesty, I have certain design plans I need you to finalize before Prince Leona’s arrival, and the first few concubines enter the palace, we don’t have much time!”, he yelled out trying to get the emperor’s attention, it was already late into the night and the palace staff were working overtime meeting every demand that they were given. 

Yuuken flinched feeling something touch his shoulder, and right before he could move back and attack, he heard an all too familiar voice—”Don’t bother trying to get their attention, Y/n’s at a meeting”—Yuuka spoke, a small grin on her face while she watched Yuuken try and collect himself, “This late?”, he asked confused, “also please try and address them by proper titles in public”; Yuuka shrugged in response, pausing for a moment before she spoke up once more, “I’d like to keep things the way it is, and you should probably take a break because they’re not coming out of the room at all, it’s something about politics . . . I wasn’t really paying attention”. 

Yuuken sighed, slumping his shoulders as he leaned onto the door of the Emperor's chamber, “I-i . .  just want everything to be perfect, everything’s been so . . hectic for their majes—y/n and I just really want to provide some stability, you know?”, he said softly, letting his exhaustion take over for a moment and Yuuka’s expression softened, “Hey—you’re doing great, there's a reason y/n gave you full creative liberty”, she ruffled his hair giving him a genuine smile, “don’t push yourself too hard alright? None of us are expecting you to be perfect, not even y/n . .” she finished, as Yuuken closed his eyes and whispered a small, “I know . . .”

Setting: Meeting room Location: The west wing. Time: 11:36pm 

You fiddle with your fingers, trying to shift the jewelry that you were covered in, in an attempt to feel more comfortable with the weight that the jewels provided, holding you down . . , as another argument ensues between the nobles, these past few days have felt like a choir, in fact most of the months since you ascended have felt terrible, nothings been exciting—from inheriting an empire doomed to fail, to trying to pick up the scraps of what was left of your fathers reckless decisions and fixing it into something at least palatable, the pressure of everything has left you in a bottomless pit, you needed freedom a refreshing start—something you lost—when you inherited the throne . . . 

“—Ah, your majesty?”, one of the nobles spoke up, and you bit your lip, how you hated that title, the moment you inherited this role, your friendships haven’t quite been the same, everyone who you’ve trusted in the past, have now become just another subject, trust is no longer something you earn, as loyalty and trust is to be expected when the crown is on your head.

Setting: Inner Cold Palace Garden Location: Rundown Gazebo Time: 12:46am 

"—and they never thanked me'', Yuuken hiccuped out, words slurring due to his alcohol intake, he waved the half finished bottle of some form of expensive imported wine in his hands, swinging it around dramatically; Yuuka chuckled, taking a sip from her glass as she looked around at the scenery of the garden—it used to be much prettier and well taken care of, way back before the previous emperor—y/n’s father—went haywire. . . 

"Hey Yuuken, remember when we used to play together here?" she asked without thinking, meeting his eyes for a brief moment all the while Yuuken took another big gulp from his wine bottle . . and then he spoke, "Yeah—you and y/n pushed me into the lake, I still hate the water", he slurred over his words slightly and Yuuka chuckled in response, if only things could've stayed as simple, but now Y/n didn't even have the time to maintain the garden where they're friendship once first blossomed, Yuuka sighed, leaning her head down on the table—which had seen better days— . .  the same could be said about their relationship with y/n themselves . . 

Masterlist | Introductions (being reworked) | Next chapter

♡. Synposis ; After many months of persuading, the emperor, Y/N L/N had finally agreed to take in a select few concubines and consorts—not an official partner.. but concubines. This caused an uproar in court; however the emperor promised to choose an official partner; amongst the crowd of concubines and consorts.. Who will the emperor choose?

— taglist ♡ (open) : . . tumblr is not letting me mention over 5 people per post, and the staff won't do anything about it, so I recommend just joining my server and picking out the new chapter ping role as it makes things easier for me.

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[misshoneyimhome]

500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

"If you cross her, then you cross me” I Matthew Knies☆

Requested: yes/no

Summary: After weeks apart, Matthew Knies finally sees his girlfriend again, his heart racing with anticipation. Yet, the sight of bruises on her arm brings a sharp reminder of why he hates being away from her.

Tropes & warnings: Matthew Knies x reader, established relationship, boyfriend!Kniesy, protective!Kniesy, no real harm (bruise), Smut 18+; Oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside;

Other notes: So, we're at the final stop of our Followers Festival, and I can’t express enough how grateful I am for your input! Writing like this is always so much fun and thrilling, as it's pushing me to explore new challenges 🤗 Thank you so much for joining my little celebration and for reading my work ❤️ Lots of love!

Word count: 2.9K

➼｡ﾟ

You and your boyfriend, Matthew Knies, had been apart for far too long.

_

Almost a year ago, your life had taken an unexpected yet wonderful turn, where it all started on a crisp autumn evening when you decided to attend a charity event organised by your company. You hadn’t particularly been enthusiastic about going, but it was for a good cause, and as the newest (and youngest) hire, you felt obliged to make an appearance.

The venue was a beautiful old mansion converted into an event space, filled with elegantly dressed guests, soft music, and the hum of polite conversation. And almost lost in your own thoughts, you casually wandered around, occasionally mingling with colleagues and sampling the delicious hors d'oeuvres, when you suddenly spotted a tall, handsome man across the room. He had a relaxed confidence about him, and you couldn't help but notice the way he smiled as he chatted with a group of people.

Then feeling the need to hold onto something for comfort, you made your way over to the refreshment table near where he stood. And as luck would have it, you both reached for the same glass of champagne at the same time, where the tall man simply laughed, a warm, genuine sound, and motioned for you to take it.

“Looks like we have the same taste,” he said with a grin.

You smiled back, feeling a spark of something you couldn’t quite identify. “I guess we do.”

“I’m Matthew, by the way,” he introduced casually, extending his hand.

“I'm y/n,” you replied softly, shaking his hand in a polite and friendly manner. His grip was firm yet reassuring, and you found yourself immediately at ease.

And from that small moment, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You discovered that Matthew was a professional hockey player, currently enjoying some downtime before the new season began. He was charming and down-to-earth, with a passion for the sport that was infectious. You shared stories about your jobs, your interests, and your families, finding common ground in unexpected places.

So, as the evening progressed, you both found yourselves gravitating towards each other, enjoying the easy banter and undeniable chemistry. When the event then started to wind down, Matthew hesitated for a moment before asking if you’d like to grab a coffee sometime.

“I'd love that,” you replied, feeling a flutter of excitement.

And so, your relationship began. The first coffee date turned into a series of outings—dinners, walks in the park, movie nights—each one bringing you closer together. Matthew’s schedule was hectic, but he always made time for you, and you quickly found yourself falling for him faster than you had ever thought possible.

By the time you reached the six-month mark, you knew this was something truly special. Despite the challenges of his demanding career and your own busy life, the bond you shared only grew stronger. The time apart was hard, but it made the moments together even more precious.

_

The off-season brought you nothing but more joy and excitement into your life. Matthew had invited you to spend a few weeks in his hometown of Phoenix, Arizona, where you were introduced to everyone. 

And those weeks in Phoenix were nothing but magical, filled with warm, sun-soaked days and cool, starry nights. You visited his favourite childhood spots, hiked the stunning desert trails, and shared countless meals with his family, where his parents welcomed you with open arms, treating you like one of their own.

Matthew took you to some of his favourite local hangouts, where you met his old friends who regaled you with stories of their younger days. And you could easily see the deep bonds he had with them, which made you feel even closer to him. The evenings were your favourite, spent on the porch of his family’s home, sipping cold drinks and watching the spectacular Arizona sunsets.

Those quiet moments, where you could simply enjoy each other's company without any interruptions, were what you cherished the most. 

But as wonderful as those weeks had been, reality eventually intruded, and you were called back to return to work. Matthew stayed back as he was busy with off-season training, his days then filled with rigorous workouts and team meetings, while your own days were consumed by the demands of your job. 

Though you both tried to keep in touch with nightly video calls and sweet text messages throughout the day, it was never quite the same as being together. The screen could never capture the warmth of his touch or the comfort of his presence.

The nights were lonely, and the days felt endless without him. The ache of missing him settled deep in your chest, a constant reminder of the distance between you. You threw yourself into work, trying to fill the void, but it was a poor substitute for the man you loved. Weekends were the hardest. You'd find yourself aimlessly wandering the apartment, lingering over the photos of the two of you scattered around, each one a painful reminder of what you were missing.

And sensing your melancholy, your friends decided to cheer you up. So, they dragged you out one night, determined to lift your spirits. They took you to a lively bar downtown, where the air was thick with the scent of alcohol and the sound of loud, pulsing music. And for a while, it worked. The drinks flowed, laughter came easily, and the music helped drown out your thoughts as you danced with your girlfriends, trying to forget how much you missed Matthew.

But then, amid the flashing lights and the thumping bass, a man approached you. At first, he seemed harmless, just another person looking to have a good time. But as the night wore on, his behaviour became more insistent. He moved closer, invading your personal space, and his touch lingered on your arm longer than was comfortable. You tried to signal politely but firmly that you weren’t interested, yet he didn’t seem to take the hint. At one point, his grip even tightened around your wrist, and though you managed to pull away, the encounter left you shaken.

Nothing overtly dangerous happened, but his touch left you feeling unsettled. You felt a surge of anger and frustration, not just at the man who had crossed the line, but at the circumstances that had left you vulnerable and alone. You wished Matthew had been there, his presence a shield against the world.

_

Fortunately, only two days later, you stood at the airport, your heart pounding with anticipation. The noise of the bustling crowd, the rolling of suitcases, and the constant announcements over the intercom all faded into the background as you anxiously scanned the throngs of people for a familiar face. Every second felt like an eternity. But then, through the sea of strangers, you finally spotted him. Matthew’s tall frame and broad shoulders were unmistakable.

Your heart leapt as your eyes met his, and you saw his face break into a wide grin that mirrored your own. And without a moment's hesitation, you dashed towards him, your feet barely touching the ground. When you reached him, you threw yourself into his arms, feeling the solid warmth of his body against yours. And effortlessly, he lifted you slightly off the ground as he hugged you tightly, burying his face in your hair.

“Missed you so much,” he murmured into your ear, his voice rough with emotion.

“Missed you too,” you replied, your voice muffled against his chest. The relief of being in his embrace after so long was overwhelming, washing over you in waves. You could feel the tension of the past weeks melt away as you clung to him, savouring the familiar scent of his cologne and the steady beat of his heart.

So, with no intention of wasting a single moment, you grabbed his hand and headed straight for the car. The drive to your shared apartment was filled with stolen glances and soft touches, the air between you crackling with anticipation. And by the time you reached your place, the need to be close to each other was almost too much to bear.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Matthew’s lips were already on yours, the urgency of your reunion clear in every kiss. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer as if to make up for the lost time. Meanwhile, your own hands fumbled with his jacket, eager to feel his skin against yours. You barely made it to the living room before clothes began to come off, a trail of discarded garments marking your path to the bedroom.

And once in the bedroom, Matthew’s hands explored your body, rediscovering every curve he had missed. His touch was both tender and demanding, his fingertips tracing the lines of your body with a familiarity that sent shivers down your spine. The kisses grew more passionate as he explored your skin, each touch igniting a fire within you.

He knew your body like a map he’d charted himself, but his touch faltered when he encountered a mark on your arm—a bruise that hadn’t been there before. So, he pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing as he examined the bruise.

“Who did this to you?” His voice was rough, filled with concern and barely-contained anger. His jaw tightened as he looked at you, his protective instincts flaring up.

“It’s nothing, Matts,” you said, trying to downplay it. “Just some guy at a bar… it’s not a big deal.”

“No, this is something!” His eyes were fierce, the protective side of him coming to the fore. “A guy touched you? And bruised you?”

“It looks worse than it was…” you began, but he cut you off with a gentle but firm grip on your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

Matthew’s face softened slightly, but the anger in his eyes didn’t fully dissipate. “I don’t like thinking about someone else touching you.”

You sighed, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb gently stroking his cheek. “I’m alright. I’m here with you now. That’s what matters.”

His gaze remained intense, but then he leaned in, capturing your lips once more in a deep, passionate kiss that stole every bit of air from your lungs. His hands were rough yet tender, conveying the love and longing that had built up over the past weeks. And the kiss was an attempt to claim you, to remind you of his presence and devotion, and you could feel the intensity of his emotions in every movement—how his lips pressed against yours, how his hands held you close. It was as if he was pouring all the missed moments and unspoken words into that one kiss.

And then, Matthew’s focus shifted to ensuring your pleasure, his touch expert and attentive. He started by exploring your body with his mouth, trailing kisses down your jawline and along the valley of your breasts. He lingered briefly at each nipple before continuing downward, moving past your belly button to your core.

Light moans escaped you as he settled between your legs, his arms wrapped around your thighs. He then kissed around your needy centre, his touch both deliberate and tender.

“Please, Matts. I need you,” you whimpered softly, your hand finding his brown locks, as if to pull him closer.

But Matthew just smirked against your skin, tightening his grip before he finally indulged in the craving he’d been holding back. Skillfully, he licked up your folds, drawing moans from you—sweet music to his ears as he savoured your tasty honey.

“Oh yes,” you breathed out, your head sinking deeper into the pillow below you, your fingers gripping his hair. “Mmm, more…”

And your plea was his command. He licked you several times, making sure to explore all of your sensitive areas, before focusing on your sensitive clit. Sucking and nipping, he wasted no time in drawing louder moans from you. And as he sensed your light squirming under his touch, feeling the power he held over you, he worked his skilled mouth with determination.

“Mmm, taste so fucking delicious, baby,” he hummed huskily into your core as he ate you out you like a starved man getting his first meal in months.

“Fuck,” you cried softly as you felt the arousal build within you, a familiar wave of pleasure coursing through your body. You were approaching your climax, and the ecstasy intensified as Matthew continued to suck on your sensitive bead of nerves, making you shut your eyes tightly. And when he then added his long fingers into the mix, it didn’t take long before his skilled tongue pushed you to your first orgasm.

“I’m gonna cu—Matts, I’m coming!”

The sensation was intense, a welcome relief from the tension of your separation.

And as Matthew looked up from between your legs, urging you to meet his gaze, a satisfied smirk played on his lips. “It’s good to be home.”

You couldn’t suppress a smile either, the rush of your orgasm still lingering as he gently moved to hover over you. Feeling the need to shift positions, you then signalled for him to lie on his back.

And Matthew naturally obliged. He always enjoyed when you tried to take charge—emphasis on *trying*, as you both knew that even when you were on top, he was still the one truly in control.

Yet, as you positioned yourself on top of him, you led with fervour and passion. His length was larger than any man you’d experienced before, but whenever he was inside you, it felt like your bodies melded perfectly together. You rolled your hips smoothly, his hands guiding you gently, as your palms pressed firmly on his muscular chest, giving you support to increase your pace at his unspoken command. Then with his thumb pressing insistently against your sensitive clit, Matthew helped you reach another peak. Arching your back and clenching around him, you let his name slip from your lips in a deep moan.

It was a blissful moment as you reached your second orgasm. However, as the rhythm of your movements built, Matthew’s own desire surged. So, with a swift motion, he turned you around into missionary, where he effortlessly took control and began pounding into you with primal intensity. His movements were relentless, driven by his need for release. 

It had been too long. Too long since he had felt himself inside you, too long since he’d climaxed under your touch.

His breathing was erratic, mingling with the sounds of your moans and the echo of skin slapping against skin throughout the room. Your nails dug into the back of his shoulders, and the force of his thrusts pushed both of you to the brink, each touch and movement designed to make the experience as overwhelming and fulfilling as possible.

“Fuck baby…. Oh yes,” he groaned deeply as he spilled his release into you, gasping for air. Matthew knew he finished sooner than he’d usually do, but given the time apart, it was no surprise to either of you.

Besides, you were already satisfied with your own rather quick orgasms he’d caused you. 

You both panted deeply, surprised by how intense and satisfying the reunion felt, more so than you had anticipated. And as you lay tangled in the sheets, the aftermath of your intimacy left both of you spent but content. Yet, you could sense something lingering in Matthew’s demeanour—a worry that hadn’t quite been erased.

“What’s wrong, my love?” you asked softly, tuning slightly to face your incredibly handsome boyfriend, with his Arizona tan. 

But Matthew just brushed a strand of hair from your face, his voice tender and sincere. “I just don’t like thinking of someone else touching you.”

“Then don’t think about it,” you replied, resting a hand on his chest. “Nothing happened. I’m here with you now.”

“But still… if someone crosses you, they also cross me,” he said, his tone resolute and protective. “And I’m not going to let it go. If I knew who it was, I’d…”

“You’d what? Risk your career by punching a stranger in the face?” you chuckled lightly with a cocked brow. 

“No,” Matthew breathed out softly. “I just wanted to make them pay for doing anything like this to you…”

You couldn’t help but smile up at him, touched by his fierce loyalty. “You’re wonderful, Matts. But I can take care of myself when you’re not here. You don’t need to go around and punch people for me.”

“I know you can,” he said, gently pulling you even closer. “I just… I love you so much. I’ve never loved anyone like this before. And… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me. Not now, not ever.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, reassuring him. 

Matthew’s arms tightened around you, a final, tender embrace as the two of you settled into a peaceful slumber. In that moment, all the fears and uncertainties of the past few weeks faded away, leaving only the certainty of your love for each other.

Well, Matthew, of course, couldn’t let it go completely. So, he interrogated your friends, pressing them for any information about who might have done this to you, earning light chuckles from all of you. However, as weeks passed, the bruises fading, and the hockey season began, the incident faded into the background.

[beauspot]

Good Omens Is a Big Deal

With everything going on I haven’t acknowledged how grateful I am for what Neil (and John) did this season. I always saw Good Omens as a romantic story and everyone involved seemed to be super supportive of that. To actually see a follow through on those themes was wonderful though. To see Aziraphale continue to look at Crowley like he’s the earth, the moon, and the stars. To see Crowley continue to save his angel not because he needs them to, but because they love him.

To see them have their dinners, and give the other access to their prized possessions. To see them dance. They love each other. They are in love with each other and it’s not implied or a throwaway line that can be edited out.

It’s the beating heart at the center of the story.

And they weren’t meant to be. Neil himself will tell you when he and Terry wrote the book Aziraphale and Crowley were meant to be friends and that’s it. Over time their relationship evolved and where a lot of writers would simply ignore that and keep pushing forward Neil pivoted and said “you know what? let’s see where this goes.” The last time I can remember something like this happening was with Hannibal years ago, it’s so rare with queer pairings.

I know everyone was excited about the kiss and it is refreshing to see queer people actually get to kiss, it’s still not something that happens all the time, but that’s not what made them canonically queer to me. If they remained completely asexual and never kissed or showed interest in kissing one another I’d feel the same. While I always felt they were queer what sealed it for me were 3 things:

1. Nina and Maggie, a romantic pairing that parallel our angel and demon break down to Crowley how she and Aziraphale are partners (and it’s clear they don’t mean business partners, does Crowley look like he runs a bookshop?) but they never say what they’re really thinking. They go on to state how that’s all they needed, the obvious implication here being that Nina and Maggie shared their romantic feelings with one another and that Crowley and Aziraphale need to do the same. Upon hearing this Crowley takes that as a sign to confess his feelings.

2. Gabriel and Beelzebub, another pairing that parallels Crowley and Aziraphale who are also clearly in love with one another is something Crowley references while he is confessing his feelings. “If those two lovestruck idiots can go off together, so can we. Because I love you.”

3. Crowley and Aziraphale express plainly to each other that they need the other. Crowley says to Aziraphale he wants to stop pretending they aren’t a team, a group, a them.

Aziraphale says verbatim “We can be together.” and “I need you.” He doesn’t say “We can work together” or “I need you to help me” or some other cop out that a lot of other shows or movies might come up with to continue to bait their fans, while having plausible deniability.

They love each other and it’s not platonic.

To me, the kiss serves as a way to seal the deal for people who only understand queer love when it’s punching them in the face. That’s not to say queer people can’t like the kiss, it’s one of my favorite scenes in the show simply because of how heartbreaking it is, but they were a couple to me long before that. And to add onto that by making every other important pairing in the show queer as well? Nina and Maggie being happy sapphics who don’t die at the end. They’re not together, but the implication is that one day they will be. Two non-binary beings—Gabriel and Beelzebub—falling in love and choosing to be with one another forever. The angels and demons are all genderless and no one misgenders them and no one gives a FUCK.

That means so much to me and I genuinely cannot express how thankful I am that this show and this season were made. The only thing I can say is thank you for standing for something, because not everyone does.

[reaper2187]

Mal x Reader X Evie

Mal, Evie, and Y/N stood at the edge of the forest surrounding Auradon Prep, the trees casting long shadows in the late afternoon sun. The trio had formed an inseparable bond since their arrival at the prestigious school, brought together by their shared pasts and a mutual understanding of one another’s struggles.

Mal, daughter of Maleficent, was the unspoken leader of their group. With her purple hair and fierce attitude, she commanded attention wherever she went. Evie, daughter of the Evil Queen, was her perfect counterpart—graceful, intelligent, and with a sense of style that was unmatched. And then there was Y/N, the daughter of Oogie Boogie, whose masculine presence and confident demeanor completed their dynamic. Her short-cropped hair and rugged attire set her apart, yet her soft-spoken nature revealed a depth of character that only her closest friends and lovers understood.

Their relationship was unconventional, but it worked for them. They found solace and strength in each other, creating a safe space where they could truly be themselves. As the evening approached, they had decided to escape the pressures of Auradon Prep for a few hours, retreating to their secret hideout in the woods.

"Finally, some peace and quiet," Mal sighed, sinking onto a fallen log and stretching out her legs. "Sometimes this place is just too much."

Evie sat down beside her, nodding in agreement. "I know what you mean. It’s like they expect us to be perfect all the time. It’s exhausting."

Y/N, standing nearby with her hands in her pockets, looked out at the dense forest. "Yeah, but at least we have each other," she said, her voice steady and reassuring. "No matter what happens, we face it together."

Mal smiled, reaching out to take Y/N’s hand and pulling her down to sit with them. "You always know what to say, Y/N."

Y/N grinned, a rare but genuine expression that lit up her face. "It’s because I’ve got the two of you. You make it easy."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s company and the tranquility of their surroundings. The forest had become their sanctuary, a place where they could shed the expectations of Auradon and simply be themselves.

Eventually, Evie broke the silence, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, who’s up for a little adventure? We could explore deeper into the forest. I’ve heard there’s a hidden waterfall somewhere around here."

Mal’s eyes lit up with excitement. "I’m in. What about you, Y/N?"

Y/N shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Sure, why not? It’s not like we have anywhere else to be."

With that, the three of them set off into the forest, laughing and joking as they went. The deeper they ventured, the denser the trees became, their leaves forming a thick canopy overhead. Sunlight filtered through in patches, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor.

As they walked, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. Despite the challenges they faced at Auradon Prep, moments like this made it all worth it. She glanced over at Mal and Evie, their faces lit up with joy and excitement, and felt a surge of affection for them both.

After about an hour of hiking, they finally reached the waterfall. It was more breathtaking than they had imagined, a cascade of water tumbling down into a crystal-clear pool below. The sound of the rushing water filled the air, creating a soothing symphony that drowned out the rest of the world.

"This is amazing," Evie breathed, her eyes wide with wonder.

Mal nodded in agreement, her usual tough exterior softened by the beauty of the scene before them. "Yeah, it really is."

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of pride that they had found this hidden gem together. "Come on, let’s go check it out."

They made their way down to the edge of the pool, where the water was cool and refreshing. Mal kicked off her boots and dipped her toes in, sighing in contentment. Evie followed suit, her laughter ringing out as she splashed water at Y/N.

Y/N chuckled, quickly shedding her own boots and rolling up her pants before stepping into the water. It was cold, but invigorating, and she couldn’t help but laugh as Mal and Evie continued to splash each other.

For a while, they played in the water, their laughter echoing off the surrounding rocks. It was moments like this that reminded them of the simple joys in life, and how fortunate they were to have found each other.

Eventually, they settled down on a large rock near the edge of the pool, letting the sun warm their skin as they dried off. Mal leaned back against Y/N, her head resting on her shoulder, while Evie nestled against Y/N’s other side.

"This is perfect," Evie murmured, her eyes half-closed in contentment.

"Yeah, it is," Y/N agreed, wrapping her arms around both girls. "I wouldn’t trade this for anything."

Mal smiled, her eyes shining with affection. "Neither would I. We’re stronger together, and nothing can change that."

They sat there for a long time, basking in the warmth of the sun and the comfort of each other’s presence. As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the forest, they knew it was time to head back to Auradon Prep. But they did so with lighter hearts, knowing they had each other to lean on.

As they made their way back through the forest, hand in hand, they felt a renewed sense of purpose. No matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, united by their love and their unbreakable bond.

Back at Auradon Prep, the atmosphere was as bustling as ever. Students were scattered across the campus, engaged in various activities and socializing. The trio returned with a sense of tranquility, the serenity of the forest still lingering in their hearts.

As they approached their dorm, they were greeted by Carlos and Jay, who were lounging on the steps. "Hey, where’ve you guys been?" Carlos asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Just out exploring," Mal replied with a shrug. "Needed a break from all the craziness here."

Jay grinned, nudging Carlos. "Sounds like you guys had fun. Wish we could’ve joined you."

"Maybe next time," Y/N said with a smile. "But right now, we’re all about relaxing and recharging."

They headed inside, retreating to their shared common room. Mal flopped onto the couch, stretching out with a satisfied sigh. Evie settled beside her, pulling out a sketchbook and pencil to capture the memory of the waterfall. Y/N stood by the window, looking out at the campus with a thoughtful expression.

"It’s weird, isn’t it?" Y/N mused aloud. "How different our lives are now compared to back on the Isle."

Mal nodded, her gaze distant. "Yeah, but I wouldn’t change it. We’ve come so far, and we’re doing things our parents never dreamed of."

Evie smiled, glancing up from her sketch. "And we’re making a difference. We’re showing everyone that we’re more than our parents’ legacies."

Y/N turned to face them, her expression resolute. "We’re writing our own stories. And we’re doing it together."

Their words hung in the air, a testament to their journey and the bond that had formed between them. They had faced countless challenges, but they had also discovered their own strength and resilience. And with each other by their sides, they knew they could overcome anything.

As the evening wore on, they settled into a comfortable routine. Mal and Evie worked on their respective projects, while Y/N read a book she had borrowed from the library. The tranquility of their hideout in the forest had followed them back to Auradon, creating a bubble of peace amidst the chaos of school life.

Eventually, they all decided to call it a night. Mal and Evie headed to their shared room, while Y/N lingered for a moment, looking out at the night sky. The stars were bright, twinkling like diamonds against the velvet backdrop.

Y/N smiled to herself, feeling a sense of gratitude for the life they had built together. It wasn’t always easy, but it was worth it. With Mal and Evie by her side, she knew she could face anything the world threw at her.

With that thought, she turned and headed to her own room, ready to face whatever challenges tomorrow would bring. And as she drifted off to sleep, her dreams were filled with visions of the waterfall, the laughter of her friends, and the unbreakable bond that held them together.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Shattered.

adjective ‘very upset’

in which, your trying to live a normal life as much as you can, but when you bump into the handsome doctor again, and realise he’s got questions, questions that you can’t answer and thats when you realise just how much your longing for that perfect fairy tale ending.

word count - 5.6k

authors note - ahhh!! i’m so sorry that the wait for this chapter has been so long, but i’ve got over my writers block now and am so excited to get back to writing for your guys, before we start i would just like to thank the beautiful @missbearforfun for helping me with this story, i honestly would not have been able to do this without them, so mwah!!

warnings - mentions of domestic abuse, hospitals, some mild swearing, corey, and nightmares. (if i’ve missed anything please don’t refrain from letting me know!!)

August 30th, 2022.

As you jogged around the local park, the rhythmic thud of your footsteps echoed against the pavement, accompanied by the familiar melodies of Fleetwood Mac streaming through your headphones. With your water bottle in hand, you embraced the solitude of the early morning, relishing in the peaceful ambiance of the park.

Lost in the music and the rhythm of your steps, you rounded a bend in the path and nearly collided with someone coming from the opposite direction. Startled, you stumbled backward, the sudden interruption jolting you out of your reverie. As your headphones slipped slightly, the sound of the stranger's voice broke through the silence.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" The voice was accompanied by a concerned expression, and as you looked up, you found yourself gazing into the eyes of a man, who looked just that little bit older to you.

His concern was genuine, and there was a warmth in his gaze that immediately put you at ease.

Brushing off the near collision with a sheepish grin, you assured him that you were fine. He lingered for a moment, his easy smile infectious, and before you knew it, you were engaged in conversation.

"Sorry about that, I should've been paying more attention," The man spoke with a chuckle, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"It's okay, no harm done," you replied, returning his smile.

"I'm Corey."

"Nice to meet you, I'm (Y/N)," you replied, returning his smile.

As the conversation continued, Corey's easygoing charm put you at ease.

"So, do you come here often?" he asked, his tone playful.

"Yeah, I try to jog here a few times a week. It's a great way to clear my head," you explained, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence.

Corey nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I totally get that. There's something about being outdoors that's really refreshing."

Before parting ways, Corey hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Hey, I know this is perhaps a bit forward, but would you be interested in going for a jog together sometime?"

A smile spread across your face at the invitation.

"I'd like that."

February 4th, 2024.

Standing behind the counter at the cafe where you work, you felt a dull ache resonate through your body with every breath you took in. Corey's words from a few days ago echoed in your mind, urging you to discharge yourself from the hospital, convinced that you were wasting the doctors' time.

Now, as you struggled through the pain, you couldn't help but wonder if he was right.

He usually was.

Your hair was tied up in a high ponytail, a practical choice to keep it out of the way as you worked. The familiar routine of wiping down the coffee machine provided a small distraction from the discomfort that gnawed at you.

Despite the bustling atmosphere of the cafe, you felt isolated in your pain. Corey's presence loomed large in your mind, his words echoing like a relentless refrain. The memory of what he had done last night weighed heavily on your heart, casting a shadow over even the simplest of tasks.

"There’s no reason for you to be here," Corey insisted, his voice dripping with irritation. "The doctors have better things to do than waste their time on someone who doesn't need to be here."

You winced as his fingers dug into your shoulders, his nails leaving angry red marks that threatened to break the skin. The pain in your ribs intensified with each shallow breath, a relentless reminder of the trauma you endured.

But Corey's words cut deeper than any physical wound, adding a layer of guilt and self-doubt to your already overwhelming emotions.

"B-but I'm in pain," you protested weakly, your voice barely above a whisper, your stutter more pronounced in the face of his anger.

Corey's impatience only seemed to grow as he dismissed your concerns with a wave of his hand. "You're fine. It's probably just a bruise or something. You don't need to be taking up a hospital bed for that."

As he spoke, you felt a familiar sense of unease settle over you. It wasn't the first time Corey had minimized your pain and dismissed your need for medical attention. With each passing moment, the weight of his words bore down on you, chipping away at your already fragile sense of self-worth.

Despite the doubts that gnawed at you, a part of you couldn't help but wonder if Corey was right. Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you were wasting the doctors' time. But deep down, beneath the layers of doubt and fear, you knew that your pain was real, and that you deserved to be heard.

"Please, Corey," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. "I-I need to stay here. I-I need help."

But Corey's patience had worn thin, his frustration boiling over into anger.

"You're being ridiculous," he snapped, his grip on your shoulders tightening. "Get up and leave. Now."

As tears welled up in your eyes, you felt a sense of helplessness wash over you. Trapped between the pain in your body and the cruelty of Corey's words, you struggled to find the strength to stand up for yourself.

Just over a year ago, you were looking for a way to get some money into your bank account, and there was this little cafe on a road called Canal Street, that you had noticed was hiring.

Your heart fluttered with nervous excitement as you hesitated at the threshold, unsure if you had the courage to step inside. Pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, you took a deep breath and entered, the chime of the bell announcing your arrival.

Inside, you were greeted by the sight of a cozy interior, filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Your nerves danced beneath the surface as you approached the counter, where a kind, elderly couple stood, their faces etched with warmth and hospitality.

With hesitant steps, you inquired about the vacant position, your voice barely above a whisper. The woman behind the counter noticed your trembling hands and the uncertainty in your eyes. With a gentle smile, she ushered you to sit down at one of the empty tables, her soft touch calming the jitters that threatened to consume you.

As she reached across to still your shaking hands, her touch was like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

February 6th, 2024.

On this rare sunny day in Manchester, Dr. Styles, known as Harry to his family, strolled leisurely around the duck pond with his six-year-old nephew, Noah.

It was a tradition for Harry to spend Tuesday afternoonswith Noah, (he always picked him up after school and they always did something to tire the young boy out) his designated day off during the week, cherishing these moments of familial connection amidst his demanding schedule.

Thursdays marked his other day of respite, but it was Tuesdays that held a special place in their hearts.

As they ambled along the winding path, Harry watched with fondness as Noah skipped ahead, his youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the calm demeanor of his uncle. The vibrant hues of the surrounding greenery were accentuated by the gentle rays of sunlight filtering through the branches, casting dappled patterns on the ground below.

The tranquil atmosphere of the duck pond enveloped them, the rhythmic quacking of the ducks providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. Noah's animated chatter filled the air as he regaled Harry with tales of his adventures at school, his innocent enthusiasm infectious.

Harry listened attentively, his heart swelling with pride at the boundless imagination and curiosity of his nephew. Despite the demands of his profession, moments like these served as a reminder of the simple joys in life, grounding him in the present and offering solace amidst the chaos of the world.

As they strolled around the duck pond, Noah's eyes sparkled with excitement as he spotted the ducks gliding gracefully across the water.

"Uncle H, can we feed the ducks?" he asked eagerly, his voice filled with anticipation.

Harry's heart sank as he realized he had forgotten to bring bread for the ducks. With a sigh, he crouched down to Noah's eye level and explained, "M’sorry, buddy, but I forgot to bring bread today. We can't feed the ducks without any bread."

Noah's face fell, disappointment evident in his expression.

"But I really wanted to feed the ducks," he lamented, his lower lip trembling slightly.

Just as Harry was about to offer consolation, Noah's gaze shifted to an elderly couple sitting on a nearby bench, feeding the ducks slices of bread from a small bag.

"Look, Uncle H, they have bread! Can we ask them for a slice?" Noah exclaimed, his excitement returning at the prospect of feeding the ducks.

Harry hesitated, his brow furrowing in uncertainty.

"Noah, buddy, we can't just ask people f’their bread," he began, but before he could finish, Noah was already darting towards the elderly couple, his enthusiasm undeterred.

"Excuse me, can we have some bread to feed the ducks, please? My uncle H forgot!" Noah asked earnestly, his eyes wide with hope as he approached the couple.

The elderly woman smiled kindly at Noah, her eyes twinkling with warmth.

"Of course, dear. Here, take a slice," she said, offering him a piece of bread from the bag.

And just like that Noah was running off towards the water, as Harry kept a watchful eye on the young boy he cared so deeply for.

As Noah happily fed the ducks with the bread he had received from the kind elderly couple, Harry approached them with a grateful smile.

"Thank y’so much f’letting him have some bread. M’sorry about him, he's not shy to ask for anything from anyone," Harry apologized, his tone apologetic yet amused.

The women smiled warmly at Harry's words.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. We're happy to share," she replied kindly, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she watched Noah's delight.

The man who was accompanying her chuckled, his deep voice carrying a sense of camaraderie.

"That's the spirit. Kids have a way of reminding us to embrace life's simple pleasures," he remarked, nodding towards Noah.

Harry found himself drawn into conversation with the couple, their easygoing demeanor putting him at ease.

"M’name's Harry, by the way," he introduced himself, extending a hand in greeting.

"Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Mary, and this is my husband, Barney," Mary replied, shaking Harry's hand with a firm grip. "We've been coming to this duck pond every Tuesday for as long as I can remember."

Barney nodded in agreement.

"It's become a bit of a tradition for us. We find it's the perfect way to spend our day off together," he explained, a fond smile playing on his lips.

As they chatted, Harry learned more about Mary and Barney's life together – their love of nature, their shared interests, and the joy they found in the simple pleasures of everyday life. He found himself opening up to them, sharing stories of his own experiences and adventures with Noah.

"There's something special about being out in nature, isn't there? It's good for the soul," Mary remarked, her gaze wandering across the tranquil expanse of the duck pond.

Harry nodded in agreement, a sense of peace settling over him.

"Absolutely. S’moments like these that make life truly meaningful," he agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Talking to the two of them seemed to stop time, and before he knew it, the sun was already starting to set in the background.

As Harry glanced down at the Apple Watch on his wrist, he realized the time had flown by faster than he had anticipated.

He clapped his hands together, a smile tugging at his lips, and said, "Well, I best get going. Noah's got to have his dinner soon."

Mary and Barney nodded understandingly, their faces reflecting the warmth of their earlier conversation.

Just as Harry began to turn away, Mary's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Before you go, young man, I wanted to mention something," Mary said, her tone gentle yet earnest. "Barney and I actually own a café on the corner of Canal Street called Timeless Brews. If you ever find yourself in the area, you're more than welcome to pop by. We'd love to see you."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

"Thank you, Mary. That's incredibly kind of you," he replied gratefully. "I'll definitely make sure to stop by sometime."

Barney chimed in with a hearty chuckle.

"Consider it an open invitation, Harry. We'd be delighted to have you as our guest," he said warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

As Harry bid farewell to Mary and Barney, a sense of gratitude filled his heart.

In just a short time, he had forged a connection with this kindhearted couple, and he couldn't help but feel touched by their generosity. With a final wave, he turned to Noah, who was already bounding ahead, eager to continue their adventure.

As they walked away from the duck pond, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of warmth and camaraderie that lingered in the air. He knew that he had made two new friends today, and he looked forward to the possibility of visiting Timeless Brews and sharing more conversations with Mary and Barney in the future.

From a young age, Harry's fascination with the world of medicine was sparked by a pivotal moment in his childhood. At the tender age of ten, he found himself in the confines of a hospital room, his ankle throbbing with pain after a clumsy fall. As he lay in the hospital bed, surrounded by the reassuring presence of doctors and nurses,

Harry knew with unwavering certainty that he wanted to dedicate his life to helping others in the same way they had helped him.

Driven by this newfound sense of purpose, Harry immersed himself in his studies, excelling academically and setting his sights on a future in medicine. At the age of eighteen, his hard work and dedication paid off when he received the news of his acceptance into Oxford University's prestigious Doctor of Medicine program.

With a heart full of ambition and determination, Harry embarked on this new chapter of his life with unwavering resolve.

Over the course of six intense years, Harry immersed himself in the rigors of medical education, delving deep into the intricacies of the human body and honing his skills as a healer.

With each passing year, he grew more confident in his abilities and more passionate about his chosen field, fueled by a relentless desire to make a difference in the lives of others.

Upon graduating from Oxford at the age of twenty-four, Harry's journey had only just begun. Armed with knowledge, experience, and an unyielding commitment to his calling, he eagerly embraced the opportunity to put his skills to the test in the real world.

Eight months later, he found himself walking the halls of The Manchester Royal Infirmary, a newly minted doctor ready to embark on the next phase of his career.

Now, at the age of twenty-six, Harry finds himself living his dream. He's found fulfillment and purpose in his work, relishing the challenges and rewards that come with each day in the hospital.

Yet, amidst the hustle and bustle of his professional life, there lingers a quiet longing for something more – the perfect partner to share his journey with.

And then, you walked into the hospital – an ethereal presence that captivated Harry from the moment he laid eyes on you. Though he knows he must maintain a professional demeanor, there's an undeniable pull, a spark of connection that ignites within him at the sight of you.

As he goes about his duties, his thoughts drift to you, everything about you, wondering if fate will bring them together once more.

10th February, 2024.

As Harry's shift at the hospital came to an end, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. The late shift, starting at 10:45 pm and ending at 9 am, had been a challenging one.

He had encountered a variety of cases, from a patient with a shard of glass lodged near a femoral artery to a young man suffering from alcohol intoxication who had vomited uncontrollably.

Despite the intensity of these emergencies, Harry had remained calm and composed, providing expert care and ensuring the safety of his patients.

Now, as he made his way out of the hospital, Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of exhaustion creeping in. The long hours had taken their toll, but he knew that his dedication to his profession was unwavering. He looked forward to the weekend ahead, eager to recharge and spend time with loved ones.

As he walked through the hospital corridors, Harry's thoughts turned to his aspirations for advancement within the medical field. He had been diligently working towards a promotion to become the Clinical Lead, a position currently held by Marcus, who was set to retire soon.

Harry knew that achieving this goal would require dedication and perseverance, but he was determined to rise to the challenge.

As Harry made his way towards the exit, he detoured towards the doctor's desk where his colleague Miranda was stationed.

"Hey, M," he greeted her with a tired but friendly smile. "Just wanted t’give y’a heads up about the patient in cubicle five. They're allergic to morphine, but it wasn't in their notes, so be sure to double-check before administering any medication. Oh, and they're booked in for a CT scan at eleven o'clock."

Miranda nodded, her expression attentive as she took note of Harry's instructions.

"Got it, thanks for letting me know, Haz. I'll make sure to handle it," she assured him, her voice calm and confident.

Just as Harry was about to head out, another colleague approached him. It was Mitch, with his signature man bun and glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

Mitch was most definitely one of his best friends, they shared a dorm at Oxford and were lucky enough to both get a job at the same hospital. Mitch was specialised in paediatrics so they hardly saw each other when working but when they did they always had a good time.

They sometimes ate together on there lunch breaks.

"Hey, bud," Mitch greeted him with a grin. "What shifts are you doing tomorrow?"

Harry glanced at his watch before replying,

"I'm on an early. I'll be in f’seven," he answered, his tone weary but determined.

Mitch nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic.

"Early shift, huh? Well, try to get some rest, mate. You've earned it," he said, patting Harry on the back in a gesture of camaraderie.

"Thanks, man. I'll do m’best," Harry replied with a grateful smile, appreciating the support from his colleague.

As Harry stepped out of the hospital's exit, the cool morning breeze greeted him, stirring a newfound hunger in his stomach. It had been nearly five hours since his last meal, and the thought of a hearty breakfast was tantalizing. Toast sounded particularly appealing at the moment, simple yet satisfying.

Recalling the conversation he had with the couple at the park the other day, Harry remembered their mention of a cafe they owned nearby. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he considered the possibility of finding a cozy spot to enjoy a meal. The idea of supporting a local business while indulging in some much-needed nourishment appealed to him greatly.

With determination in his stride, Harry made his way to his black Range Rover parked nearby. Slipping behind the wheel, he navigated the bustling streets of Canal Street, the anticipation of discovering a new culinary gem fueling his excitement. Despite the morning rush, he remained focused on his mission, determined to satisfy his hunger with a delicious meal.

After a brief ten-minute drive, Harry finally found a parking space outside the cafe. With a sense of satisfaction, he turned off the engine and stepped out of his car, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. With each step towards the entrance, Harry's anticipation grew, eager to experience what the cafe had to offer.

As Harry entered the cafe, a small bell above the door tinkled lightly, announcing his arrival. He scanned the cozy interior, his eyes immediately landing on an inviting empty table by the window. Making his way over, he settled into the chair, already relishing the prospect of a hot cup of coffee and some toast.

Before he could even glance at the menu, the elderly woman from the park approached his table with a warm smile.

"Well, look who it is! I'm so glad you decided to stop by," she greeted him cheerfully.

Harry returned her smile, feeling a sense of familiarity and warmth in her presence.

"I couldn't resist," he admitted.

The woman beamed with delight.

"Oh, I'm thrilled to hear that! Someone will be with you shortly to take your order. In the meantime, make yourself at home," she said warmly before bustling off to attend to another customer.

Harry leaned back in his chair, feeling a sense of comfort settle over him in the quaint surroundings of the cafe.

As you stand behind the counter, wiping down the coffee machine, Mary, approaches you with a gentle smile.

"Table nine needs to have his order taken," she informs you kindly.

You nod in acknowledgment, trying to ignore the pain throbbing in your ribs and your lower leg.

Retrieving your notepad and pen from under the counter, you attempt to conceal your limp as you make your way over to table nine.

Approaching the table, you and Harry seem to recognize each other simultaneously.

Both of your eyes widen.

Both your mouths go dry.

You blink a few times, getting yourself out of the daze you seem to be captured in as you muster up a fake smile and ask him what he'd like to order.

Before you can finish your question, Harry interrupts you, his voice filled with concern.

"I wondered what had happened t’you," he admits, his gaze searching yours.

You tilt your head to the side, feigning innocence, though you know exactly what he's referring to.

"Oh, it was nothing serious," you reply casually, hoping to brush off the topic.

But it was.

Harry sighs, his expression filled with sincerity.

"Y’discharged yourself before your X-ray," he points out, his tone gentle yet firm. "You wouldn't have done that. You know doctors are there to help people."

You let out a resigned sigh, knowing he's right but unwilling to admit it.

"I didn't want to waste the doctor's time," you murmur, avoiding his gaze as you fiddle with your pen.

Harry's brow furrows in concern.

"Every patient is important, Y/N," he says softly, his voice filled with compassion.

He remembers your name?

"Y’shouldn't have discharged yourself. What happened to you?"

You muster up a fake laugh, hoping to deflect his concern.

"Oh, it was nothing much," you reply nonchalantly, though the memories of the past week weigh heavily on your mind. "Just a few bumps and bruises. I'm fine now."

Harry sighs, his expression troubled.

"I was there to help you," he says earnestly, his eyes searching yours. "And I'll always be here to help you. Y’don’t have to go through these things alone.”

Harry's gaze remains fixed on you, his concern evident as he waits for your response.

You shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny, the weight of his words weighing heavily on your shoulders.

"I appreciate your concern, Harry," you say, your voice tinged with reluctance. "But really, there's nothing to worry about. I'm fine."

Harry's brow furrows further, his concern deepening.

"Y/N, I can see that you're in pain," he observes, his tone gentle yet insistent.

You bite your lip, torn between the urge to confide in him and the instinct to keep your struggles hidden.

"It's just... life, you know?" you reply evasively, hoping to deflect his questions. "Nothing I can't handle."

Harry's gaze softens, his empathy shining through as he reaches out a hand towards yours.

"You don't have to handle everything on y’own, Y/N," he says softly. "Sometimes s’okay to lean on others for support."

You pull away slightly, the walls around your heart growing stronger as you push him away.

"I appreciate your concern, Harry," you repeat, your voice firmer this time. "But I'm fine. Really."

Harry's expression falls, a flicker of hurt passing through his eyes before he nods in reluctant acceptance.

"Okay," he says quietly, though the disappointment lingers in his voice. "If y’ever need someone to talk to, m’here."

But where would you ever find him?

You shift your focus to the menu in front of you, grateful for the temporary distraction it provides.

"And what can I get for you today?" you ask, forcing a polite smile as you glance up at Harry.

His gaze flickers down to the menu briefly before returning to meet yours.

"Just a black coffee with a tuna panini, please," he replies, his voice calm and composed.

You nod, scribbling down his order on your notepad as you fight to maintain your composure.

"Sure thing," you say, your voice steady despite the ache in your ribs.

With a tight smile, you turn away, doing your best to conceal the slight limp in your step as you make your way back to the counter.

You walk over to the coffee machine, the familiar hum of its machinery offering a momentary reprieve from the turmoil swirling within you. With practiced efficiency, you begin the process of brewing Harry's black coffee, the rich aroma filling the air as the dark liquid flows into the waiting cup.

As the coffee finishes brewing, you carefully pour it into a ceramic cup, the warmth seeping through the porcelain and into your hands. Despite the ache in your ribs and the lingering pain in your leg, you focus on the task at hand, determined to see it through with unwavering precision.

You carefully balance the tray in one hand, holding Harry's black coffee securely as you navigate your way back to his table.

Despite your best efforts to conceal it, the persistent ache in your ribs and the throbbing pain in your leg threaten to betray you with every step.

As you approach Harry's table, your foot catches on an uneven tile, sending you stumbling forward. Your heart races as you fight to regain your balance, but it's too late.

With a sharp crack, the glass mug slips from your grasp, shattering into pieces on the floor in front of you.

A gasp escapes your lips as you watch the coffee spill across the tiles, the warm liquid mingling with the shards of broken glass. Heat rises to your cheeks as embarrassment floods through you, your pulse pounding in your ears as you struggle to compose yourself.

Harry's concerned voice cuts through the chaos, his words a blur as he rushes to your side.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his brow furrowed with worry as he rushes to your side.

You freeze at the sound of his voice, your heart pounding in your chest as a surge of panic threatens to overwhelm you.

Memories of Corey's anger and violence flood your mind, leaving you trembling in fear.

Harry's hand reaches out to touch your shoulder, but you flinch away instinctively, your body tensing with apprehension.

"Easy, easy," he murmurs softly, his voice gentle as he takes a step closer. "I just want to make sure y’alright."

The sincerity in Harry's words sends a jolt of conflicting emotions coursing through you. Part of you longs to believe him, to surrender to the warmth of his concern and let him chase away the shadows that haunt you.

But another part, hardened by years of trauma, recoils from his touch, wary of the vulnerability that comes with trust.

Struggling to find your voice amidst the turmoil raging within you, you take a shaky step back, your gaze darting nervously around the room.

"I'm... I'm fine," you manage to choke out, though the words taste like ash on your tongue.

Harry's expression softens, his eyes filled with genuine concern as he takes in your trembling form.

"Y’don't look fine," he says gently, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, let me help you."

The sincerity in Harry's voice is like a lifeline in the darkness, offering you a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. But the walls you've built around your heart remain steadfast, the fear of vulnerability too great to overcome.

With a heavy heart, Harry watches as you push yourself to your feet and bolt towards the back of the cafe, disappearing from sight before he can reach out to stop you.

Left standing amidst the wreckage, he can't help but feel a pang of regret, knowing that he's let you slip through his fingers once again. But deep down, he knows that he won't give up on you, not when there's still a chance to break through the walls that surround your wounded heart.

He flickers his eyes up, and catches the eyes of Barney, but the elderly man just casts his eyes back down to the floor.

As you reach the relative safety of the back room, you lean against the wall, gasping for breath as tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

The sound of your own heartbeat echoes in your ears, a relentless reminder of the darkness that lurks within you, threatening to swallow you whole.

LATER THAT NIGHT….

Corey storms into the room, his footsteps heavy with anger.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you shrink back against the headboard, clutching your book tightly to your chest.

"Why isn't there any food on the table?" Corey's voice cuts through the silence like a knife, his tone sharp with frustration.

You stutter out a feeble excuse, explaining that you only just got home from work and haven't had time to cook anything.

"But... I was thinking... maybe we could order takeout?" you offer tentatively, your voice trembling with apprehension.

The suggestion only seems to fuel his rage further.

"You know I don't like eating fast food," he snaps, his voice laced with contempt as he strides towards you.

Without warning, he grabs your hair, wrenching your head back to meet his furious gaze.

Panic courses through you as you struggle to find your voice, your mind racing with fear and confusion.

"There's... there's not much food in the house," you stammer, your words barely audible above the pounding of your heart.

You hadn’t had time to go shopping today.

Corey's grip tightens, his fingers digging into your scalp as he leans in close, his breath hot against your skin.

"You're so useless," he sneers, his words dripping with venom.

"Fat, lazy, good-for-nothing..."

The room spins as Corey's tirade continues, his insults cutting deeper with each passing moment.

Desperate to escape, you try to push him away, but his grip only tightens, trapping you in a nightmare from which there seems to be no escape.

Suddenly, with a violent outburst, Corey grabs the lamp from the bedside table and hurls it against the wall, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room.

Tears blur your vision as you shrink back against the bed, utterly petrified by the display of his rage.

As Corey advances towards you with a fiery rage burning in his eyes, you scramble to your feet, desperately trying to evade his grasp.

With a surge of adrenaline, you manage to slip past him, your heart pounding in your chest as you bolt towards the stairs.

But just as you reach the top step, Corey's hand snags your arm, wrenching you around with a brutal force that sends you reeling.

"How dare you run away from me?" he hisses, his breath hot against your face as flecks of spit land on your skin. "You should never turn your back on your boyfriend."

Terror courses through you as you try to reason with him, your voice trembling with fear.

"Corey, please... You're hurting me," you manage to stammer, but your words fall on deaf ears.

Corey's laughter cuts through the air like a knife, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic amusement.

"Hurting you?" he mocks, his voice dripping with disdain.

"This isn't hurting you, sweetheart. This is."

And with a sudden shove, he sends you tumbling down the stairs, your body crashing against the unforgiving steps with a sickening thud.

Agony radiates through every fiber of your being as you lie at the bottom of the staircase, your ribs screaming in protest with each labored breath.

Tears blur your vision as you curl into a ball, the weight of Corey's betrayal crushing down upon you like a suffocating weight.

With a gasp, you jolt awake from the nightmare, your heart pounding in your chest as if trying to escape the confines of your ribcage.

The events that caused you to head to the hospital in the first place continuously running through your head leading to sleepless night after sleepless night.

Beads of sweat cling to your forehead, your hair damp and tangled against your skin, as the remnants of the horrifying dream linger in your mind like a haunting specter.

As you turn to your left, the empty space beside you serves as a stark reminder of Corey's absence. The sinking realization settles in that he's likely out drinking again, his drunken antics and volatile behavior a constant source of fear and uncertainty in your life.

Gazing out of the window, you're met with the sight of a full moon casting an eerie glow over the world below. Its ethereal light illuminates the darkness, casting long shadows that seem to dance with malevolent intent.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you ponder the endless cycle of fear and despair that has become your reality.

How much longer will you have to endure this nightmare?

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[vandnana]

In Love With The Enemy [Prologue]

Prologue: Playing Scientist

pairing: lo’ak x female turned na’vi reader

summary: during the time when jake became toruk makto, you were quaritch’s youngest and most valued soldier, the daughter he never had. but, pandora changed you and you died during the final battle, betraying quaritch and wishing that you had been able to do more. now, you have been reborn again, as a na’vi, tasked with quaritch’s new military avatar crew to kill Jake Sully. taking advantage of this second chance at life, you help the Sullys and fall in love along the way.

genre: fluff, angst 

highlights: grace being like a mother to you and jake being like your father figure while quaritch is in his toxic dad era 

warnings: mentions of blood, war, violence, adult language

word count: 6,265

note: thank you to everyone who has been so excited for this series! i wasn’t originally going to make this prologue, but i really wanted to establish the reader’s old life before she was revived and how close the reader was to jake and grace first before diving into the rest of the series! 

[chapter 1] [chapter 2]

The forest of Pandora holds many dangers, but the most dangerous thing about her is that you may grow to love her too much. 

You were the youngest in the regiment back then, too young for war and far too young for what was in store for you in Pandora. But, Quaritch took you in when you were a child. You had no family, no home, and no promise of a real future. He had seen himself in you: cunning, willing, strong, and unafraid. You were everything he could have hoped for in a daughter, but you were real. His prodigy. And not a day went by when you didn’t live up to those expectations. You loved being with Quaritch. He had become your father and he always thought that nothing could ever change that. 

Then you met Grace.

You were only a child when you first met her, and having been around army dogs your whole life, meeting her was a breath of fresh air, air that you never knew you were missing. 

She was hesitant at first. You were Quaritch’s kid, an actual carbon-copy of the worst trigger-happy moron out there. Yet, even with all your harsh military training, you maintained an unmistakeable innocence in your eyes, an innocence that Grace couldn’t ignore when you asked her to teach you about Pandora, about the Na’vi, about the avatars. You were curious, genuinely curious and for Grace, although she would never admit it, it was refreshing too.

“You know, for a little Marine, you’re actually pretty smart.” She was watching you with her elbow resting on the lab table as you took notes of your findings, your eyes glued to your notebook

You didn’t look up at her, “I don’t know about that. I just did what you told me to.”

She put a hand on top of your notebook, halting the pen in your hand, “What I told you to do was simply look at the sample.”

You looked at her with confused eyes, and she sighed, taking the notebook out of your reach.

Holding it up, she displayed your work in front of you, eyes flitting from your notebook to you, “I did not tell you classify your observations and make a surprisingly accurate diagram of the snaketree’s cellular levels.”

You nodded, acknowledging your mistake. You had disobeyed a direct order and unsure what else to say, you apologized on instinct. “I’m sorry, ma’am. It won’t happen again.”

Grace looked at you in awe, laughing suddenly, “This isn’t military training numbnuts. What you did was good work, real good work. I’m impressed.”

“Are you serious?” You were still in disbelief, but the feeling in your chest was one you’d never had before.

She smacked you lightly on the head, “Yes! You’re smarter than all the idiots in your squad, especially your father. And from now on, don’t call me ma’am, okay?”

You rubbed where she had hit you, smiling as you nodded, “Yes ma- I mean, yes Grace.”

Suddenly, you understood what you felt in your chest. It was different from the feeling you would get when you were praised by Quaritch. This feeling, it was like being recognized by a mother. Yes, you were that cunning, willing, strong, and fearless girl that Quaritch adored, but you were also smart beyond what you were told and you had an admirable moral compass that put the rest of your squad to shame.

Grace never let you forget that.

Still, you were Quaritch’s daughter, and being his daughter meant that you had to take on the role of who you always were. His perfect soldier. 

The more time you spent on Pandora, the more you began to see past the façade you let yourself believe for so long. The mission was never about finding diplomatic solutions or building alliances. It was about destruction, money, and humanity’s wretched twist on glory, a misguided glory that Quaritch was more than happy to fulfill. 

When Jake came on board, your father saw that potential, a soldier in with the wrong crowd, the thought invoking a vile taste in his mouth. Yet, with all his personal notions aside, there was an opportunity to be poached. 

Jake was the key to the glory he was chasing.

Quaritch spared no time asking you to summon Jake. He was going to offer him a deal, one that he simply couldn’t refuse. You obliged to the simple request, but your heart was heavy. Six years you had been on Pandora and relations with the indigenous were only getting worse, and with Jake, your father finally found a reliable mole to fulfill his duties. 

You made the short journey to the lab, the way so embedded into you that your legs were working on pure muscle memory. It had been a while since you had been there, too busy with AMP suit duty and perimeter watch to have any time to stop by. You commanded attention instantly walking through the door, the scientists greeting you warmly as you brushed past them. 

Jake, who looked unabashedly lost among the labcoats, immediately looked your way, and seeing you in your full camo, he almost seemed relieved, the pristine, formalin smell of the lab permeating his nose was enough to suffocate him as he sat there, bored out of his mind. 

“Jake Sully?” You approached, your demeanor intimidating at first, but betrayed by the smile on your face when you looked past him, waving. 

He looked behind him to see Grace with a disapproving look in her eyes, “Shouldn’t you be playing soldier, little girl?” 

“I am playing soldier...unfortunately. Which is why I’m here. I need to borrow yours.” You replied, turning your gaze to Jake.

Grace sighed, “Go ahead and take him. He’s pretty much useless here anyway,” Jake looked up at her, but he said nothing, merely scoffing. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll return him to you as soon as possible.” You said sarcastically, putting your hand out in front of her and extending your pinkie, “I pinky promise.” 

You laughed as she rolled her eyes at you, pushing your hand away, “I’d actually rather you keep him, but Selfridge seems to think I need another idiot with a gun.”

“Come on, play nice, Grace.” You reasoned.

She crossed her arms, lowering her eyes at such a hopeless request, “Just get the Marine out of my sight, will you? You’d be doing me such a favor, y/n.”

You glanced down at Jake, who was holding back all the snappy responses that were just at the tip of his tongue. 

“Favor granted.” You replied simply with a smile, walking away, Jake following behind you.

As you reached the doorway, you halted, turning your head back, “I saw those samples you got earlier. I’ll sneak back here after dinner, just don’t look at them without me, okay?”

Looking over her shoulder, Grace couldn’t help but concede to a grin, “Wouldn’t dream of it, but it’s Max you really have to worry about.”

You put a finger out pointedly, your tone stern, “Tell him I’ll shoot him if he touches them.” 

Grace chuckled, “Alright, alright miss Marine. I’ll pass along the message.”

With a final wave, you left, navigating through the halls with Jake beside you, “Sorry about Grace. She’s always prickly at first, but she’ll warm up to you eventually.”

“No kidding.” Jake huffed, looking up at you curiously as he kept up with your pace, “Where are you taking me anyway?”

“The Colonel wants to see you.” You replied, the heaviness in your heart suddenly obvious as you walked, the hallway widening out into one of the base’s hangars, the multiple flyers and AMP suits becoming your audience as you passed them.

Jake maintained his inspecting tone, eyes flitting from the path in front of him to you, “So, what are you? A soldier or one of the science sorties?” 

“Oo “science sortie” I haven’t heard that one before.” You replied sarcastically, but you maintained your placid grin, “I’m y/n.”

He nodded, but still he continued, his tone so arrogant that it almost felt insulting, “Okay y/n...you didn’t answer my question. Playing soldier and playing scientist are two completely different games.”

You scoffed, making eye contact as you pointed to his legs, “And what’s your game? Are you a Marine or are you a cripple?”

He was stunned, having no clever retort, resorting to a simple shrug, “May be out, but you never lose the attitude.”

Having heard all the military cliches, you chuckled, “Look, there’s no game here. Not on Pandora. These RDA goons and this greedy company think they’re on the winning side of a pointless war. To be honest with you, I’d rather be doing what you’re doing.”

“So why aren’t you?” Jake asked, stopping to face you.

You halted, meeting his gaze, your expression visibly troubled. 

“Lieutenant Quaritch.” A deep voice called from behind you, and you turned receiving the soldier’s salute. 

“Warren...what can I do for you?” You asked. 

The soldier pointed to one of the flyers just ahead, your best friend Trudy waving to you as your eyes stopped where she was, “I’ve been relieved of doorman duty. Trudy wanted me to tell you the spot is open for the taking.

Turning your attention to Jake, you asked, “How do you feel about being a doorman? Trudy flies all your “science sorties.” 

Immediately, Jake agreed, “I’m your guy.” 

Warren saluted again, acknowledging Jake with a nod before returning to the flyer.

The disgruntled expression on your face only lasted for a moment, but Jake saw it right away, his eyes softening as he looked at you. He wasn’t all that convinced of his position being covetable or about this war you had talked about, but he did understand the pressure you were under. 

Choosing to lighten the mood, Jake took an opportunity to tease you, clearing his throat before speaking, “Lieutenant Quaritch, huh? That must get you a lot of dates.”

Somehow, Jake knew that it was exactly what you needed, wanting to avoid the conversation in front of too many prying ears. You gave into your own laughter, you responded snarkily, “Probably the same amount as you, old man.”

Jake scoffed, “Old man? I’m not that much older than you.” 

Your eyes darted upward as you put a finger to your chin, your expression filled with feigned wonderment, “Really? I mean, you look like you’ve earned your senior discount with that wheelchair.” 

He chuckled to himself, amused as he retorted, “I’m sure my senior discount doesn’t do your kids meal justice.”

You threw your head back in another fit of laughter, “I’ll give you that one Sully. For now.” 

Stopping, you outstretched your arm, “The Colonel is right through there.” You pointed, seeing your father bench pressing in the makeshift workout room the soldiers created. Although its black, metal bars made it feel more like a prison.

Jake thanked you, and you nodded, putting a fist out, which he proudly bumped.

“Hey Jake,” You began, and he looked over his shoulder, waiting for what you had to say.

The seriousness in your voice was stark as you gave him a curt expression, “I meant what I said earlier about a pointless war. Whatever my dad offers you, he’ll mean it. My dad takes care of his own. Just don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

He squinted at you inquisitively, “Wasn’t planning to.” 

You turned your heel, looking over your shoulder before leaving, “See you around, old man, unless you want to go back to your retirement home on earth.”

“Go crawl back to your crib, won’t you?” He yelled after you, and with your back turned, you flipped him off, his chuckle becoming fainter and fainter as you walked away.

You stopped by Trudy and she stopped what she was doing, getting up from her crouched position, “Hey, hey what’s wrong? You’ve got that look in your eye.”

Looking back, you watched as Jake talked to your father, “I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling, Trudy.”

Trudy put a comforting hand on your back, “Why don’t we go to the caf and raid the dessert pantry? That always makes you feel better.”

“Can’t hurt.” You replied, the two of you hastily walking to the cafeteria.

You felt slightly better because of Trudy’s efforts, but that bad feeling still plagued you. When night fell, you walked to the soldiers’ quarters, making your way to the far end of it to find your father in his room.

“What did Sully say, sir?” Keeping your nonchalance, you showed no heightened emotions, standing perfectly as your father turned his attention to you.

He had a smirk on his face, which gave away his answer, “We’ll have these savages by the balls in no time.”

“What exactly are you having him do?” You pushed on, maintaining your stoic expression.

Quaritch walked over to you, “I thought about sending you instead. Don’t think it didn’t cross my mind seeing as that Augustine bitch is trying to brainwash you into believe her tree-hugging bullshit.”

Still, you gave him an unreadable expression, waiting for him to continue what he was saying.

“But, you don’t have an avatar. Sully can gather intel that we need from the inside. Understand?”

“Yes, sir. I understand.” You stood with perfect posture as silence enveloped you. 

He smiled at you, putting a hand on your cheek, “Now, go on to bed baby girl. We got a long day ahead of us.” 

~

Could you blame Jake for taking the deal? He didn’t know that he was really making a deal with the devil. 

Jake was like you at first. Ignorant. He didn’t fully grasp the world he was entering into, clinging onto the comfort of what he had always known. He was a Marine who figured it was just another hellhole, another tour that would add to his long list of sins.

He would get a reversal, his old life before a big hole was blown right through the middle of it. Reporting intel was a cakewalk to Jake, and if that meant the promise of his legs back, then there was nothing to lose. 

Three months. That was how long Jake had to negotiate the Na’vi’s relocation. 

It didn’t take long for Grace to find out that Jake was talking to the Colonel, Max rushing in to deliver the news to you all, his mannerisms frantic as he threw his hands up. Grace had her usual cigarette in her mouth, and in her burning rage, she almost bit down on it, her teeth barely sinking in as she grit her teeth. 

Taking it out of her mouth, she let a puff of smoke escape and you all felt her rage as her smoke cloud engulfed you all, “Those idiots have no business sticking their noses in my department.”

The rest of you were silent, listening as she continued her rant. Jake was untouchable, strangely chosen by the Omaticaya, and unfortunately, her only way back in with the clan. You could see her thinking as her eyes went to the ceiling, her forehead furrowing as she considered what her next move was. Seemingly, she had found the answer after her mental contemplation, immediately ordering everyone to gather everything up.  

Quickly, she walked over to her station, her eyes scanning the contents of the table. 

You followed after her, “What are you doing to do?”

She handed you her cigarette, her hands at work as she began to organize what was in front of her, “We’re getting out of Dodge. I’m not about to let your brainless father and that ass-hat Selfridge micro-manage this thing.”

She had handed you the cigarette so haphazardly that you almost grabbed the  part that had been lit, cinging it on your belt once she gave it to you, “So, where are we going?” 

She stopped, facing you with a warning look, “We? You really think daddy dearest is gonna let you out of his sight? He already gets that ugly vein in his forehead every time you do anything that involves me.” 

“Let him have his ugly vein because I’m not staying here if you’re not.” You protested, searching her eyes for approval, but she only looked at you with a pessimistic expression. 

She put a hand on your cheek, her steely tone betrayed by the concern in her eyes, “Don’t push it. “

You placed a hand over hers, “You can’t change my mind. So, just tell me. Where are you thinking of moving everything?”

Grace groaned at your stubbornness, letting go of her hold on your face as she pulled her tablet out to show you, “Site 26, up in the Hallelujah Mountains.” 

Your eyes lit up as an idea sprang into your mind, “I have to go.” You said abruptly making your way back to the hangar, your eyes avidly searching for your father.

When you caught sight of him, he was about to get into an AMP suit, but the sound you calling him made him jump back down, his head turned in your direction.

He immediately gave you a toothy grin, pleased to see you as he put an affectionate hand on your back, “Is my little girl keepin’ everyone in line?”

“I’m practically walking intimidation to these people, sir.” You joked, but he took you seriously, looking at you with such pride.

“Nothing wrong with being feared. That’s how we Quaritchs get it done.” 

“Speaking of getting things done,” He leaned in closer, attentive as he waited for you to continue, “The scientists are about to have a change in scenery. I know you got Jake in there, but let me fly with Trudy. With me around too, you’ve practically got your dream team.” 

Facing you, he put his hands on your shoulders, his smile even wider than before as the corners of his eyes crinkled in pure regard for you, “Taking initiative. I wish I had ten more like you.”

You smiled back, “So, I have your approval?”

“You’ve got my approval,” His tone changing ominously as he stared down at you, “But don’t let these limp-dick science majors fool you. There ain’t nothing worth saving here. You know the mission, y/n.” 

Hugging him, you let the smile on your face fall, the graveness in his tone sending a whirring ache in your stomach. “You know me better than that, dad. I’m your daughter.” You reassured him, your voice so convincing that even you had almost believed the lie you were feeding him. 

He leaned back, looking at you with a pleased grin, “Damn right you are.” 

~

“After all this time, we finally get to fly together. Ain’t that a bitch.” Trudy said, handing you bags as you set them into the back of her flyer.

“Better late than never.” You hummed, overjoyed to finally be away from the base.

After everything was secured, everyone’s avatars were loaded on, their impossibly large stature so lifeless that they almost seemed like statues. Flying through the mountains, you all looked around in awe, Trudy laughing at you all as your mouths gaped open, too consumed in absolute wonderment to even process her laugh. This wasn’t the first time you had seen the mountains, but that didn’t make them any less remarkable. Landing, you all wasted no time making yourselves comfortable, picking out your bunks, setting your stuff down, and inspecting the entire place. 

Over the next few weeks, Jake stayed true to what he was ordered to do, diligent and detailed with every report after his excursions using his avatar. Sometimes, he would do them alone, always making sure that no one was watching, but other times you were right beside him, cringing as he attempted to make sense of the Omaticaya.

After the first month, you could sense Jake’s weariness as he closed his video log, his finger nervously hovering over the button to send it in. 

Walking over, you placed a hand on the table, “Yeah, I’d be hesitating to send that in too. You look like crap, old man.” You snickered, hoping to subside his worries with your joke.

He met your eyes, annoyed, “Whatever, baby face. Don’t you have a kids meal to eat or something?.”

“I had to check on my favorite old guy. You know, make sure you didn’t keel over or anything.” You pouted, earning a scowl from him.

Taking a seat on top of the table, you tilted your head at him, What’s with the hesitation? You usually just send things in and walk away.” You prodded.

He pressed the button, not wanting to explain himself, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lowering your eyes at him, you scoffed, “It’s not a crime to like it here. Should I remind you how earth is practically just a ticking time bomb? The core is caving in on itself as we speak.”

“I want my legs back.” He replied, but even he wasn’t convinced by his tone.

Getting up, you let your arms fall to your sides, “You have legs.”

“Not always.” Jake snapped back. 

“You know Jake, like it or not, blue’s always been your color.” You hinted, leaving him to contemplate your words as you went back to your bunk. 

He was fighting hard denial, falling in love with the forest little by little, and everything it was giving him. Jake didn’t realize how much he missed running, hell even walking was a blessing. Things were hard at first, but with Neytiri pushing his limits, he couldn’t even complain, too grateful that he was even able to get back up from falling. 

And suddenly, Jake finally had something to lose. 

You watched as everything was backwards for Jake, the world he had thrust himself into for a simple mission becoming the reality, while his waking life had become the dream. Pandora was changing him, just like it changed you.

Learning the ways of the Omaticaya was the catalyst, but then there was also Grace, and Norm, and of course, you. While he had found unlikely friendships with Norm and Grace, you had become close friends since the day you first met. 

In truth, you reminded him of his brother, Tommy, the science guy, the smarter one. But Tommy didn’t have that callous edge that Jake’s military background imprinted on him. It was the one thing about Jake that Tommy could never relate to.

You could though, and you did. 

Every time. 

You were practically cut from the same tree, and despite your usual dizzying scientific discussions, Na’vi lingo and occasional latin-rooted vernacular, you actually understood him without really trying.

You were younger than him, younger than everyone, a constant cause for concern because aside from all your one-liners and jokes, Jake felt responsible for you. You were better than him in so many ways, and he respected you,  cared about you, more than he cared about himself. 

And the longer you were around Jake, the more you got to know him, and the easier it became to see his internal struggle. He didn’t know who he was anymore, his concept of loyalty faltering as the burden of what Quaritch had asked him had finally laid stones in his heart. 

Jake’s three months had gone by in a blink. To the disappointment of your father, his last report was more than three weeks from that deadline. Your father had called him back to base, Jake’s lag stirring his intolerance for deviancy, but you intercepted it, offering to talk to him yourself. 

You waited for Jake by his pod, looking out at the Pandora forest through the window and taking in the tranquility of the scene before you. Beyond the clearing were the endless flora and fauna and amidst the air and soft dirt, were speckles of life in the form of the local insects and animals. You peered outside in awe, wondering what it would feel like to explore the forest without the confines of your feeble humanity.

Behind you, you could hear the pod open, stirring you away from your thoughts. You turned around, Jake’s expression completely contemplative as he noticed you. 

You gave him an equally reflective expression, your mind carrying an unwieldy weight as you dreaded the conversation that daunted the both of you.

He pulled himself out of the pod, but you remained where you were. “My dad is starting to question your resolve. Will Neytiri and her people move from HomeTree?”

You knew the answer already, and Jake buried his face in his hands, “They don’t want anything. There’s nothing to trade, but what could they possibly want from us? Lite beer and blue jeans? They’re never gonna leave, and I don’t blame them.”

You hung your head low, “It’s not wrong for you to like it here, Jake. You didn’t do anything wrong. My father roped you into this mess.”

He lifted his head up from his hands, his expression so burdened and beaten down, “I can barely remember my old life y/n. I don’t even know who I am anymore.” 

You leaned forward, putting comforting hands on his shoulders, “You know who you are Jake.” 

He looked up, his eyes begging you to tell him who that was. “You’re one of The People now, and this forest is your home. You can protect it still.”

Jake never cried, but he almost did as he avoided your eyes, “You once told me not to make a promise I can’t keep.”he let out a defeated sigh, “Should have taken you seriously back then.” 

“What matters is what you do now. Saving them, that’s all that matters. I’ll tell my dad what he wants to hear, but you know what you have to do, and you’re the only one who can do it.” You kept a meek smile, patting his shoulders.

He was silent for a moment, nodding as he took in your words, “Whatever happens, I’m not bringing you down with me. Who knows what your dad will do when he finds out you’ve gone rogue.” His face was etched in concern, his worry for you embedded in the lines of his forehead.

You shrugged, your expression grave as you frowned, “A father protects. It’s what gives him meaning.” 

You paused, looking down at your clasped hands as you reminisced about the life you had back on earth, “I owe Quaritch my life, you know. My real parents didn’t want me and no one else did either. For a long time, he was all I had, and I thought that everything he did was to protect me.”

You met Jake’s eyes again, your expression fierce with determination, “But, kids grow up and they realize who their parents are and they either accept that or fight it with all they got. I choose to fight.”

Jake’s expression softened as you continued on, your emotion suddenly overwhelming as you felt your voice almost break, “You, Grace, Trudy,  Norm, you guys are my family. I got your back Jake. No matter what.”

He put a hand on your head, a genuine smile on his lips, “Don’t worry about me. You’re the baby. It’s my job to protect you.”

You shook your head, “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“What can I say?” He sighed, shrugging, “I’m a stubborn old man.”

~

The next day, the bulldozers came and not long after that came the destruction of HomeTree. There was nothing you all could do except sit and watch as Quaritch ordered the columns to be brought down, the Na’vi scattering in waves of blue as they witnessed their home engulf in flames, the cataclysmic reds and oranges muting the once green landscape and settling into the soulless smoke cloud that rose above them all, its presence like a deadly omen.

Grace, Norm, and Jake were detained immediately, and just like Jake had said, he protected you, pretending you had no involvement in anything that happened. You, Trudy, and Max did you all you could to help them escape when you got the chance, and as you approached her flyer, Jake stopped, urging you to leave so you wouldn’t get caught. 

You refused, insisting to come with them, but Grace had already made the decision for you, pulling you into a hug, she caressed your hair, “You need to stay here, baby girl.”

You could feel tears fall down your face as you wrapped your arms around her, savoring her embrace before letting go, unwillingly giving in to the urgency of the situation.

As they entered into the hangar, you ran back to the heart of the base, hiding while soldiers charged toward them, your father taking the lead. Later that night, you found out Grace was dying and you cried alone. You were beyond consolation, your grief consuming your heart, the ache tormenting you as you sat in the base, unable to do anything for her. You had seen death. Countless times. But not being with her for hers felt like you were the one you had been killed.

It was hard to feign your innocence after you found out that it was your father who shot her, and it became damn near impossible when Jake told you she had finally passed. Still, you were strong, playing the perfect soldier until the final battle came.

Fleets of ships entered into enemy territory, rows and rows of them creating an ugly, gray hoard amidst Pandora’s natural beauty. When you had entered, warriors on their ikrans swarmed, shooting left and right and bringing down the smaller flyers one by one.

You were with your father when he gave you the order to shoot Trudy down, her flyer adorned with war paint as she targeted your father’s ship, guns blazing. 

“I won’t do it.” You refused outright. 

In all your life, you had never been defiant, stunning him only for a second before he rose his voice at you, “Shoot her down, y/n!”

You got up, gritting your teeth as you spoke, your contempt silvery in your tongue, “I won’t kill my friend.” 

Seething, he turned away from you, “If you won’t, I will.” 

Before you could stop him he armed all pods, sending endless shots toward Trudy. You were frozen, unable to peel your eyes away as you watched her rotor explode, her flyer plummeting further and further down to the ground until she was engulfed in a deadly explosion. Still, you were agonized from the pain of losing Grace, but your loss became insurmountable watching your father murder your best friend. 

He paid no mind to that pain as he continued his plight, too focused to care about what he had done to you. All felt hopeless suddenly, your heart breaking as you watched more destruction unfold before you. Ikran and Na’vi were being shot in the air and below you men and women were being shot down, the fits of fleeting light coming from the gunfire of the AMP suits still visible from so high up.

Then, as if a prayer had been answered, ikran were flying in swarms from all directions, their masses attacking ships and taking down sentries. On the other side of you, you saw Jake, landing on top of one of the ships, unleashing grenades and jumping off to land on the biggest ikran you had ever seen, Toruk. 

You watched as Toruk maneuvered through the arching rock columns that surrounded the Tree of Souls and descended quickly to your father’s ship. With a loud thud, Jake was above you, unleashing grenades. Seeing him, your father steered the ship right, rupturing his balance as he fell backward. The grenade exploded, triggering the oxygen breach alarm. You grabbed an exo pack as you ran to the ship’s hatch, your father yanking you to the ground, his gun already in his hand as he stationed himself in the opening. Rushing, you took hold of the ladder, pushing past your father toward Jake, who was barely holding onto the ship, a missile already in his hand.

Jake threw the missile into the rotor as Quaritch fired a shot, the bullet meant for Jake hitting you as you blocked its path, the blood pooling in your chest instantly. In that moment, Quaritch dropped his gun, running toward you with his arms outstretched, his attempt at catching you futile as you already fell backwards.

A father protects. It’s what gives him meaning.

What Quaritch had failed to be, Jake fulfilled, scooping you into his arms as you both tumbled downward, tightly wrapping himself around your dying body to brace you from the impact. When you had finally fallen to the forest floor, you were heaving, your vision fading as he towered over you.

He was holding onto your limp body, tears streaming down his face. “No, no. You’re gonna be fine, y/n.”

You had never seen him cry before, and that made everything feel all the more heart-wrenching. There was no hope to save you.

You smiled at him like nothing was wrong, “You know me better than that Jake. I’m a scientist. I don’t believe in fairy tales.”

He let out a weak chuckle. It was the same thing that Grace had said to him when she lay dying, making his heart twist even more. He was in utter shock, his eyes suddenly drowned with tears while hugging you, as if doing so would bring back the warmth that was slowly leaving your body. 

You stared at him, piecing your final words together as you could feel the creeping darkness approach. Putting a hand on his cheek, you finally knew what you wanted to say. “You’re a good man Jake. Thanks for being my family.”

“Y/n, you’re gonna be alright.” He cooed, his heart breaking as your face paled and paled.

Taking one final breath, you smiled, “You’ll make a great dad someday.” 

“Y/n.” Jake’s voice quietly inaudible, but your eyes went blank and your hand dropped from his cheek.

Your body was cold and bloody as he held onto you, and as he tried so desperately to search for a remaining light in your eyes, he was only filled with more pain, an irrevocable pain welling inside of him, his heart blocking his mind from making sense of the fact that you were really dead. 

You reminded Jake of his brother Tommy, and just like him, you were dead too. He felt like he had failed you, the pain and rage stirring inside of him becoming a strength as he went up against your father. 

“Give it up, Quaritch. It’s all over.” Jake yelled out, his call becoming a perfectly timed distraction as Neytiri tried to free herself from the weight of a dead thanator.

“Nothing’s over while I’m breathing.” the Colonel spat, his words imbued with his pure hatred and scorn, “You killed my little girl, Sully. And for that, death is too good for you. I want to see you suffer.”

“It’s your fault she’s gone!” Jake hissed. 

“She was my daughter, and I should have never trusted her with you. You think you’re one of them?” So blinded by his own rage, the Colonel blamed Jake for your death, the fuel of his grief giving him an unholy boost in his fighting spirit.

“Time to wake up.” Walking to the pod, he broke the window, filling the oxygen isolated space with Pandora’s air. Panting, Jake could feel his link go in and out, his body convulsing in response to the breach. 

When Quaritch had turned back to Jake, he laughed maniacally, enjoying as he watched Jake struggle. Grabbing him by the hair, he pulled Jake’s knife out, “I’m gonna love cutting you up with your own knife.”

Jake even in his lightheaded state, managed to keep his resolve. Hissing aggressively as Quaritch inched and inched toward his neck, Jake could feel the imminence of blood being drawn until he stopped, Quaritch’s hands going limp, dropping Jake and the knife. As fast as the first came, so did a second, dealing the final blow. Neytiri watched as Quaritch died, satisfied as he became void of life, the misguided glory he was chasing dying with him.

~

Those who weren’t loyal to the Na’vi were sent back to earth, and in his last ditch attempt to save you, Jake had taken you before Mo’at, hoping that Great Mother still held your life in her intricate balance.

Mo’at pleaded for you underneath the Tree of Souls, the Great Mother’s roots glowing around your lifeless body, but dimming quickly.

Lifting her head up, Mo’at looked at Jake, choosing her words very carefully, “In this time of great sorrow, she cannot be saved Jake Sully, but the Great Mother still holds her in her heart. She is not gone from us forever.” 

Neytiri held him as he stared ahead blankly, so struck by his grief that he hadn’t truly grasped what Mo’at was saying. When he had shaken himself out of his state, he picked your body up, burying you where they had buried Grace’s human body, the Omaticaya chanting to Eywa as Jake, Norm, and all the other scientists gathered to say their final goodbye.

And in that final goodbye, you too had become a relic of the past, but your memory lived on as Jake continued his life, your death a painful reminder that he must always protect his family. 

You had told him something long ago, something he would never forget.

A father protects. It’s what gives him meaning. 

~

Author’s Note: 

My lovers, 

how did you all like that prologue? please let me know in the comments!! i’d love to know what you think :) writing grace and trudy’s death hurt me in my soUL, ITS NOT THIS ANGSTY FOR THE LATER PARTS I SWEAR

again, i wanna thank you all for waiting so patiently for this series!! 

part 1 is almost done as well and im beyond excited for you guys to see reader and jake reunite :) AND OFCCC READER AND LO’AK MEETING OMGGGGGG

for all those who wanted to be part of the taglist, you’re listed below

if you want to be tagged in the next parts, please comment on this post or send me a dm or an ask with your blog name! 

Love,

Nana <3

taglist: [some of the blogs didn’t allow me to tag some blogs, but i wanted to include them anyways!] @fifty-shades-of-mischeif @pretty-npeach @tonni30 @kirikuki @itsemy01 @persondoingstuff  @23victoria @soobinsrose @starjane312 @valentineoxox@imthefunniestpersonalive @justlillythinking @mae-is-crazy @scarletrosesposts @paniniii @bloodyziggy @mister-police   @mrs-sullys-blog @niiight-dreamerrrr @promiseofeywa @wilmalovegood @sssspencerrr @mochi-yu @d4rno @lovekeeho @dreama-little-dreamof-me @bammtoli @strawberryclouds22 @neteyamoa @devil-on-acid​ @a-queen-blr​ @my-name-duh  @mayabritjohn @annoyingstrawberryballoon @0-0h0-0 @glitter-in-my-heroin  @katkat1918

[definitelynuwonhere]

“My Angel”

Wanted to get back into writing, so I’m pushing through writer drought. I wanted to explore the “origins” of how Angel got their pet name (well, main pet name)

I couldn’t get it to work with a scene between Angel and David though, so I tried a different path

Enjoy the sweet brotherly moment 👍

———

Asher can’t believe how many times he’d seen David smile these past few months.

Snickering at his phone? Humming while he cooked? Chuckling at his jokes instead of his usual grunt and eye roll!? Who is this man?!

He knew it was because he was seeing someone, but David’s been out with people before, but there was something about this one that just, reignited something in him.

And for the first time since Gabe died, it felt like the David he’d known since they were kids, was back.

David sat across him, chuckling away at his screen, the subtle glint in his eye and smirk that tugged on his lips every time they texted back with another snarky quip.

"I know you said they’re human but your mate has got some kind of magic.”

David gave a hearty laugh, shaking his head at his ridiculousness. He glanced back at his phone, his eyes hovering over their mates name on the screen as a soft smile formed on his lips.

The beta smiled, happy for his best friend’s new found source of happiness.

“They really make you happy huh?”

The alpha nodded, leaning back against the couch,

“Yep.”

“Curious though, why Angel?”

He asked, tilting his head and looking an amused smirk.

“I dunno. Just felt right.”

He replied, a soft smile lingering on his lips as he stared at their mate’s name on his phone.

———

“This is it big guy! You’re getting married tomorrow! How’re ya feeling?”

He excitedly asked, taking a seat on one of the deck chairs, drinking as they took in the scenery of David’s backyard.

The alpha snickered, reaching forward to grab his drink and taking a sip, “Excited, Nervous, Terrified”

He replied, placing the glass back down as he leaned back against the chair, letting out a comfortable sigh.

“But I love them and I can’t wait.”

He said, smiling, something they’d gotten so used to seeing but still feels refreshing every time.

“You know,” He started, his finger tracing the rim of his glass. “I think I finally have an answer to your question about the Angel pet name.”

Asher’s eyes grew in surprise, he took a sip of his drink, giving him a nod to continue.

“I guess, I started calling them Angel because, in a way, they saved me.”

He continued, his expression falling into a soft smile as he reminisced about the past 4 years.

“They challenge me, get me out of my comfort zone in ways that I don’t know to this day.”

He chuckled, a smile lingering on his lips as he stared out into his backyard. Taking in the sight of the place he and his mate called ‘home’ the strings of lights thar gave the perfect ambience, the throw pillows on the lounge chairs they had crocheted, and the flowers that surrounded the place the two of them had planted, it made his heart swell.

“They carried me out of the darkness that came with losing dad and becoming alpha. They were my guiding light; my Angel.”

He said, turning to see his best friend weeping, moved by the sentiment behind the name.

Wiping off his face, he looked at his best friend with pride, through his puffy eyes.

“I’m very happy for you, bud”

His words genuine and full of love, he leaned forward wrapping his arms around the larger man.

“Thanks, Ash.”

[kenzieluvsnanami]

❝ 𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬, 𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 ❞ - flo, bending my rules *:･ﾟ✧。.: kenzieluvsnanami :: a nanami first date drabble

// cw slightly suggestive, reader is insecure and a lil damaged, a bit angst ig (like no happy ending.. yet), lowercase intended, v casual short prose // 0.7k words

thinking about going on a first date with my fave, the feeling of not just anticipation about what it'd be like moving your relationship into this new romantic space but also a distinct sense of... nervousness?

it wasn't like you had never been on a date, your experience of men being not incredibly extensive but enough to know how a first date should go: murmured compliments under the low light of an intimate restaurant as you got to know each other further. maybe even getting to know one another in a more physical sense, your entangled bodies getting impossibly closer in the early hours of the morning as you caressed crevices with a light touch as he methodically pushed into you, bodily fluids exchanging in an act which you would think make you even closer. it was like a ritual at this point, meeting someone, going on a few dates and then eventually the spark would fizzle out - not really due to anyones demerit but more just general incompatibility.

it was a cycle that you had seemed doomed to repeat... but somehow this date felt different? even the way it was arranged, nanami had clearly gone through a lot of effort to make the evening perfect for the two of you; you both communicating about what activities you preferred and also touching on what you didn’t as much (your mutual dislike for coffee dates was comforting).

most dates hadn't really bothered to ask some of the things that nanami had, assuming rather that you would like them to take charge and almost escort you to whatever place they deemed you to be worthy of. honestly, it was refreshing to be able to express your wants without feeling like you were being too confrontational or “bossy”.

the two of you had decided to visit the nearby beach that friday, the forecast predicting a beautifully clear day with an enjoyable light breeze. fate seemed to have lined up with both of you having a free spot in your schedules to meet up that evening and soak up the sunset at a nearby seafood restaurant.

now what may have been making you so nervous about this date is the fact that it was all so… new. most of your dates never seemed to want to make an attempt to be unique when it came to date ideas, trying too hard to play it safe (or cheap, depending on your viewpoint).

you were genuinely excited to go on this date as it was an actual outing - breaking away from the familiar inner city and travelling out to the rural coast. you loved the seaside; the fresh, salty air in your lungs alongside the silky sand beneath your feet seemed like exactly the relaxation you both needed after a long, stressful week.

thinking about how perfect this date would be is helping you to calm down slightly but another thought almost completely deflates you; what do you wear?

now the two of you had discussed going for a brief dip in the ocean so you should bring a swimsuit to change into. but then which one to bring? you didn’t want to cover up completely in a one piece but then you also didn’t want to be as bare as the typical triangle bikini left you.

it felt almost… shameful to be that “naked” infront of nanami. you didn’t want to come off as being “easy” or feel like your being judged. you knew nanami wasn’t really the type to infer or assume anything based purely of something so superficial like what bathing suit you wore but you just really wanted him to… like you. you didn’t want him to reject you in the same way that other men have. you really wanted this to work.

thursday evening left you tossing and turning in bed, sleep seeming like a fantasy at this point - your nerves turning into stomach churning anxiety. what if he didn’t like your hair? your body? your smile? or just you in total. maybe you were better off as acquaintances, his mellow and calm demeanour clashing with your more uninhibited, affable disposition.

i guess you’d only find out tomorrow.

a/n : i love this song sm like i must have listened to it at least 100x. i do want to write abt the actual date but itll take me a hot minute.

credits to @/cafekitsune for the dividers!!!!!!

likes and reblogs make me squirt!

[onlyonetifosi]

Hey, could you write something for Valentine’s day in Behind the camera please 🫶

Bonus behind the camera -> Valentine's day especial

lets pretend Carla and Arthur are still together (i loved them, i miss them) and that Lorenzo and Charlotte are engaged

series masterlist my main masterlist

The sun had just begun to illuminate the picturesque streets of Monaco as Yn woke up to the sweet aroma of breakfast in bed. She rubbed her eyes, smiling as she saw Joris, her boyfriend and childhood best friend, placing a tray filled with delicious treats on her lap

"Joyeuse Saint-Valentin, ma belle," Joris greeted, presenting her with a tray laden with heart-shaped pancakes, fresh fruits, and a steaming cup of coffee.

"Bon matin, ma belle," Joris greeted, leaning in to give Yn a tender kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning, my love," Yn replied, her heart fluttering at the endearment. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to have Joris in her life. This looks amazing, you're spoiling me already" Yn exclaimed, giving him a sweet kiss.

As they enjoyed their breakfast, Yn and Joris spoke of plans for the day. Little did Yn know, Joris had arranged a surprise spa day for them.

"J'ai réservé une journée au spa pour nous deux, mon amour," Joris revealed with a twinkle in his eye. (I've booked a day at the spa for us, my love.)

Yn's eyes lit up with excitement. "C'est parfait! Merci, Joris!" (That's perfect! Thank you, Joris!)

After a relaxing spa experience and a luxurious massage and some time in the sauna, they felt refreshed and ready for the rest of their day. 

As they relaxed in the spa's thermal pools, Yn sighed contentedly. "C'est vraiment le paradis, Jo." (It's truly paradise, Jo)

Joris chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from Yn's face. "Je suis heureux que tu apprécies, mon cœur." (I'm glad you're enjoying it)

The couple returned home for a cozy afternoon nap. Wrapped in each other's arms, they exchanged sweet nothings, cherishing the simple pleasure of being together.

"Wake up, sleepyhead. Let's enjoy the city, ma chérie." Joris whispered as Yn stirred from her nap

"Alright, let's go" Yn looked at him with sleepy eyes but agreed

Upon waking, they decided to take a leisurely stroll around Monaco. Hand in hand, they wandered through the charming streets of Monaco, taking in the breathtaking views of the Mediterranean. Yn's favorite boutiques beckoned, and they stopped for coffee at her beloved café.

"Mon amour, j'adore passer du temps avec toi." (My love, I adore spending time with you.) Joris whispered, intertwining his fingers with Yn's

"Et moi aussi, Jojo. C'est une journée parfaite." (And me too. It's a perfect day)

As evening approached, Yn and Joris joined her family for a Valentine's Day dinner. The Leclerc household buzzed with laughter and joy as they all gathered around the table.

"Bonsoir, ma sœur! Joyeuse Saint-Valentin!" Charles exclaimed, kissing Yn on both cheeks.

"Bonsoir, Charlie! Joyeuse Saint-Valentin à toi aussi," Yn replied, returning the gesture.

The dinner table was filled with lively conversations, as they all shared stories and laughter. 

As they sat around the table, Lorenzo had an announcement.

"Nous avons une grande nouvelle à partager," he said, holding Charlotte's hand. (We have some big news to share.)

Yn's eyes widened as Charlotte showed off her engagement ring. "Nous allons nous marier!" Lorenzo announced happily. (We are getting married!)

The room erupted in cheers and congratulations. Yn hugged her brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law, genuinely happy for them.

Yn stole glances at her older brother Charles, happy to see him so content with his girlfriend, Alexandra.

"Je suis tellement heureux pour toi, Cha," Yn said, expressing her happiness for her brother. (I am so happy for you, Charles.)

"Merci, Yn. Et toi, Joris, prends bien soin de ma sœur, d'accord?" Charles playfully warned Joris. (Thank you, Yn. And you, Joris, take good care of my sister, okay?)

Joris nodded with a smile, "Bien sûr, Charles. Toujours." (Of course, Charles. Always.)

The night concluded with shared desserts, laughter, and a feeling of warmth that only family and true love could bring. As Yn and Joris exchanged glances, they knew that this Valentine's Day would be etched in their hearts forever.

taglist: @love4lando@gcldtom@im-mi@hiireadstuff@celesteblack08@reblog-princess@sunf1ower16@janeholt3@athena-artemis-dorian-gray@minkyungseokie

[showmethesneer]

Something very specific about how Jaskier's bi/pan sexuality was portrayed really resonated with me.

The scene with Vespula when they talk about him having a crush on Radovid...

I am a bisexual femme, married to a woman. I have only had serious, meaningful relationships with women. I have only casually dated, slept with, had crushes on men. My feelings for/attraction to anyone at any given time has never negated my feelings for/attraction to anyone else. For the most part, my partners have understood that. Sometimes, talking about my crush or experiences with one person has even been a kind of foreplay with another person. I don't think I've ever seen that specific thing portrayed before.

Vespula is telling Jaskier all about himself, talking about this crush he has on this other man, whilst crawling into the bed to sleep with him again. She not only accepts his crush on someone else, she playfully teases him about that crush and uses it to flirt with him; all while acknowledging that Jaskier having that crush does not take away from how excited he is to be in bed with her in this moment.

I felt so seen.

I'm not saying this is everyone's bi/pan experience. I'm just saying this is something that was extremely familiar to my own life and I was blown away seeing it depicted.

And i wonder how much of that was Joey Batey's input. The way he talked about avoiding stereotypes and how he had to personally rip the first drafts apart and explain how to handle this story properly, I can imagine how that relationship was originally handled. I can imagine a draft of the script where Vespula addresses this crush and accuses him of not being genuinely into women at all or some other bi/pan erasure bullshit that is all too common with bi/pan characters. It was refreshing to see this portrayal play out. And more than refreshing, it felt like my actual life.

[queenshelby]

Daddy Issues (Part Four)

Pairing: Dominant!Cillian Murphy & Shy!Reader (& Jamie Dornan)

Warning: Smut, BDSM, Daddy Kink, 4-Somes, 3-Somes, Sugar Baby Arrangements

Summary: Through your best friend, you meet actor Cillian Murphy and come to some kind of arrangement involving intimacy in exchange for being spoiled financially.

Written with: my beautiful wife @darkshelbyfiction

Your PoV

At around eight o'clock in the morning, you woke from your slumber feeling refreshed and pleasantly worn out. It appeared that the entire night's events had left quite an impression on you. In fact, just recalling the events brought forth surges of excitement which you had never felt before. 

The memory of having heated intercourse with Cillian in particular induced goosebumps, sending shivers along your flesh, making you wonder what the day ahead might bring.

When you stumbled into the living room however, only Emma could be found while Jamie had already left in order to go for his usual morning run.

Meeting your eyes, Emma began speaking immediately. "So, did you sleep alright?" She asked kindly, showing genuine concern.

"Yeah, surprisingly enough," you admitted honestly, thinking back to the incredible experiences you had just undergone.

"Cillian did not stay. He never does," Emma explained quietly, running her hands through her messy curls, wondering whether you were upset by how things had ended last night, namely with him leaving. 

"I don't blame him. I hate sleeping in the same bed with strangers anyway," you told Emma lightheartedly, immediately sensing her relief.

"Really? Because I absolutely love staying in the same bed with Jamie. He is surprisingly cuddly," Emma laughed before querying directly how you felt about last night's events.

"Do you have regrets? About last night?" Emma asked, searching your eyes earnestly. There was something unspoken lingering between you two, a bond formed amidst shared experience.

She needed to understand where you stood, emotionally and, much to her surprise, you smiled slightly and leaned closer to her, taking her hand into yours.

"Not really. If I regret anything, it's that our little tryst didn't happen sooner. It was fun and I feel surprisingly comfortable with what happened between the four of us," you confessed casually, raising your eyebrows playfully. "Maybe even too comfortable," you added and, immediately, Emma grinned widely as she stretched herself comfortably.

"I am so glad because I honestly thought I went too far. I never intended to push you into anything like this, knowing how reluctant you usually are when it comes to intimacy," Emma expressed sincerely, cupping your cheek affectionately. Her honesty touched you deeply, and it struck you that perhaps your friendship hadn't changed irreparably due to all the strange occurrences lately.

"No, I didn't feel pushed into anything, Em. We are all good, alright?" you said reassuringly, giving her a gentle smile. You then continued, "I am curious though, Jamie did not appear to be as dominant as I had expected. Is he usually this timid?" 

 Glancing away for a second, Emma responded hesitatingly, "He can be dominant, but most of the time, he prefers to let me lead..." She trailed off, seemingly unsure whether she should continue discussing this or not. 

Feeling somewhat confused, you pressed further, asking "But why is he so generous then? What is his deal if control is not what he is after?" Your expression grew increasingly perplexed as you tried to piece together your understanding of Jamie's behavior.

 Emma shrugged slightly, choosing her words carefully before answering. "Well, think about it like this - a man like him might get bored easily and there is always a risk, considering that he is somewhat famous. He wants security, but without any feelings or strings attached. He has a high libido that needs to be satisfied. He is really into adventurous sex, but he is not Christian Grey. He does not like to exercise dominance. All he wants is to have fun with someone he can trust," Emma explained. 

Your brow furrowed in thought, processing the idea as you mulled it over.  Then you contemplated, "But when he is done with that, doesn't that mean he may stop supporting you sometime, once he wants something more serious with someone else?" These questions seemed pertinent given the circumstances. But Emma, ever resourceful, had answers prepared.

"It's true, Jamie may not stick around forever. However, I believe it's more beneficial for me than harmful," she asserted firmly. "He gives me everything I need right now, and once I'm ready to leave him behind, I will. Until then, it works perfectly for both of us," Emma defended fervently, a stubborn glint in her eye. It occurred to you then that despite Jamie's apparent lack of commitment, his support provided stability and security for Emma during her financial struggle at university.

Perhaps Jamie saw something in Emma beyond mere sexual attraction; something deeper that kept him interested. Maybe it was trust and security that he was after, just like Emma had suggested. Or maybe, he simply enjoyed being able to provide such benefits to someone in return for the pleasure she gave him.

Regardless, your curiosity was piqued about this kind of arrangement, one based solely upon mutual satisfaction and desires. As you delved deeper into conversation with Emma, your initial confusion gradually dissipated, replaced instead by fascination.

"You know, Cillian might be looking for something similar to what Jamie and I have in place, some form of temporary companionship rather than romantic attachment. He just separated from his wife and with this new movie coming out, he is reluctant to continue his usual behavior," Emma pondered pensively, drawing you into the nuances of these unusual arrangements before suggesting that this may be an option for you.

Her proposal was unexpected but certainly interesting. While you initially dismissed the notion, deep down, a part of you couldn't help but entertain the possibility of exploring such an arrangement yourself, especially after witnessing firsthand the dynamic between Jamie and Emma. This type of setup, founded entirely on fulfilling needs and mutual desire, appealed to you tremendously.

But then again, Cillian was much older than you. He had experience and you could not match this experience. He also had a reputation of being a womanizer and you read about several cheating scandals in the past. He was clearly sleeping around and the last thing you wanted was to be one of many. 

"I don't think so, Em. Cillian is extremely gorgeous, but he is not the kind of guy I should get myself involved with. Besides, he's way older than me," you replied, attempting to dispel the suggestion gently. Emma raised an eyebrow at your comment, acknowledging your reservations about age differences, although her gaze suggested a hint of intrigue.

"You are right. Maybe he isn't for you. He is into some kinky shit too. At least so I've heard," Emma murmured suggestively, flashing a devilish smile that made you raise an eyebrow in response.

You couldn't deny that you had always been curious about experimenting with different aspects of intimacy, pushing boundaries and exploring limits. Was it possible that this was just another opportunity presenting itself to indulge those curiosities?

"What kind of kinky shit are you talking about? I mean, we just had a foursome, and I don't think it can get any kinkier than that," you joked, feigning disinterest. But inside, you knew you weren't telling the truth. You secretly craved more intense thrills, more deviant experiences. Deep down, a small voice whispered seductively, tempting you to consider the possibilities that lay beyond vanilla. Yet, you remained hesitant – partly due to fear, partly due to uncertainty regarding the path laid before you.

"Well, apparently Cillian actually likes some elements of bondage and discipline", Emma divulged nonchalantly, smirking teasingly as she awaited your reaction. "Maybe he should have played Christian Grey instead," she then mused, referencing Fifty Shades of Grey again. 

"How do you even know this stuff?" you asked Emma, clearly caught off guard by this revelation. Emma smiled mysteriously, crossing her legs provocatively as she spoke.

"It came up a few weeks ago when we had this threesome. Jamie mentioned it in passing," Emma giggled softly and your face flushed red instantly, unable to hide your embarrassment or curiosity. Clearly, this topic aroused you greatly, but you did not want to admit this to your friend.

"So, he likes to be the dominant then, I assume? Is that what you call it?" you ventured hesitantly, intrigued yet still apprehensive.

Emma nodded affirmatively, adding with mischievous excitement, "Yes! And trust me, there is no better feeling than knowing exactly what you want and getting it. He was being gentle with you. He was much more dominant when the three of us...you know...never mind...," Emma trailed off but you would not let loose.

"Well, I am not you, obviously.  He was probably cautious, seeing that I was really nervous," you said with blushing cheeks, and Emma went on to explain that, in other aspects of life, Cillian was rather timid.

"He is a nice, caring and somewhat gentle guy, who seems to like rough sex," Emma said with a mix of admiration and amusement, as though recounting a personal experience. Your head spun with thoughts as you processed the information she had revealed. Intrigued by the prospect of engaging in a more liberating, uninhibited form of sexual encounter, you found yourself questioning whether you were truly capable of embracing such a radical shift in your usual approach to sex. You wanted to be more open to your needs, but could you?

"Interesting. Well, I am sure there are many suitable women for this kind of power exchange. But, I am not one of them," you determined in the end, finally voicing your inner concerns.

"Are you sure? Because, I could see how attracted you felt towards him, and you are clearly asking a lot of questions. That alone tells me that this might indeed be worth considering. Everyone starts somewhere Y/N," she encouraged gently, her tone persuasive and compelling.

As she spoke, images of your steamy encounters danced through your mind, leaving you yearning for more intensity and eroticism. How would you react in such a situation?

Would you dare take the leap? Your imagination raced ahead, visualising every detail of such a forbidden scenario vividly. You felt your heart race, pounding loudly within your chest. You looked towards Emma inquiringly, seeking confirmation and guidance. She studied your face closely, reading your thoughts accurately. With a sigh, she acknowledged your internal turmoil, saying quietly, "Of course, only you can decide what is right for you." Emma's calm demeanor served as a reminder that ultimately, the choice rested squarely upon your shoulders.

After all, it wasn't as if you hadn't fantasized about this kind of liaison before. The difference was merely the scale of risk associated with it, compared to the rewards it offered.

The thought sent waves of heat coursing through your body, causing goosebumps to rise along your skin and, yet, you declined the notion to engage in something like this. 

You realized that perhaps you were not quite ready for this change just yet and, with that, you were determined not to take Cillian up on his offer on catching up with him again.

Cillian’s PoV

Meanwhile, after his morning run, Jamie caught up with Cillian at his hotel where, in the neat little coffee shop downstairs, they exchanged some lighthearted banter.

"So, did you have fun with Y/N last night?" Jamie asked casually, sipping his espresso.

"Yes. She is rather cute and we managed to find our rhythm pretty quickly," Cillian responded, equally casual in mannerisms, albeit with a touch of melancholy evident beneath his exterior composure. His fingers traced absentmindedly across the rim of his cup.

Jamie observed Cillian closely, picking up subtle cues which indicated that, perhaps, Cillian wanted to see you again after last night's encounter. 

"Are you going to see her again? You seemed to get on quite well," Jamie probed further, raising a brow quizzically. Cillian considered the question for a moment while thinking about how shy and inexperienced you were.

"We did get on, but she is quite young and inexperienced so it might be a waste of time," Cillian mulled out loud, his gaze far away, likely contemplating memories of the sensuous encounter he shared with you earlier that evening.

Jamie noticed the introspective look on Cillian's face and decided to leave him with his thoughts. After a brief pause, he changed the subject abruptly, hoping to redirect the discussion.

"Hey, speaking of time, let's grab dinner tonight, shall we? It's been ages since we caught up properly, without women being involved," Jamie proposed cheerfully, breaking the heavy silence that hung thickly around them.

Cillian glanced at Jamie briefly, acknowledging the suggestion with a slight nod.

Despite the camaraderie among themselves, both men understood perfectly well why they sought solace in casual affairs and no-strings-attached hookups - it allowed them to temporarily escape the monotony of daily routines. They knew how fleeting pleasures could provide much needed respite amidst hectic schedules.

***

Over dinner, Jamie and Cillian discussed their respective lives, ranging from acting projects to failed romances. Their rapport was effortless, built on honesty and understanding.

Despite the surface conversation about work and women, Jamie picked up on undercurrents of dissatisfaction swirling beneath Cillian’s placid exterior that day.

Cillian was about to divorce his second wife, who was an actress as well but was tired of living in his shadow. He had grown weary of the superficiality that accompanied stardom while she indulged on it whenever she could. As he continued drinking, Jamie noted Cillian's solemn state and wondered what demons haunted him behind closed doors these days. 

He appeared drained – not just physically, but emotionally too. There was an air of vulnerability about him that piqued Jamie's interest even more. It occurred to Jamie that Cillian was essentially similar to himself, searching for true fulfillment amidst an empty world full of deceiving facades. 

Without warning, Cillian began discussing his marriage and its eventual end. As he narrated tales of his failing relationship, his hands moved nervously across the table, giving the impression that his thoughts were almost tangible.

“She’s so… demanding,” he uttered with a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Always wanting attention, accolades, and constant validation.”

"And just an hour ago, she sent me a text. She now does not want to go through with the divorce, claiming that 'we need to try harder'. What's left to try?!" exclaimed Cillian bitterly, slumping back into his chair. This latest development added fuel to his frustration, making the already volatile mixture inside him reach boiling point.

There was a palpable sense of despair and exhaustion hanging heavily in the room as Jamie listened intently, offering nothing more than comforting silence. He recognized these feelings well, having grappled with them countless times during his own tumultuous past relationship. Jamie too was divorced, and this is why this arrangement with Emma came as solace to him as he could be himself without judgment from her.

Having been in this situation himself, Jamie could relate to Cillian's predicament because he experienced it firsthand. It took him several months of therapy post his split with his wife, but eventually, he emerged stronger – wiser. Now, his priorities revolved mainly around his career and maintaining a healthy balance between his personal needs and work.

"You need to find a balance man," Jamie thus suggested earnestly, hoping his advice resonates with Cillian.

"And how will I do that?" Cillian questioned, genuine curiosity lacing his words.

"By focusing less on other people and instead turning inward, examining what brings you joy or contentment. You do not need to make everyone else happy. You just need to look after yourself for now. It may sound cliché, but discovering your own needs can sometimes be the most difficult task," Jamie advised earnestly, knowing that self-exploration isn't always easy.

Cillian mulled over Jamie's advice, reflecting deeply on it. He appreciated Jamie's sincerity, but the truth remained that achieving equilibrium required more than just insightful counsel. One must also possess courage to actively pursue personal happiness. Despite feeling exhausted, a spark of hope flickered within him as he grasped onto the potential of redefining his life.

Meanwhile, outside the restaurant, the streets bustled with people hurrying home from work. Neon signs advertised trendy bars, flashing enticing invitations to indulge in late-night escapades. Jamie stood up from the table, signaling the end of their evening, but suggesting a drink at a local bar named "Soho". 

"Let's go and have a few pints before calling it a day," said Jamie gesturing towards the exit.

"Alright, where to?" Cillian enquired, his tone teetering between amusement and weariness.

"Just follow my lead," Jamie replied with a grin, taking charge. Leading the way towards Soho, he guided his mate through crowded streets filled with pubs, restaurants, and colorful storefronts. Everywhere, there was music blaring from clubs and pubs, adding to the vibrant atmosphere. People passed by them in a blur, seemingly lost in their own adventures.

***

With a familiar ease, they entered the dimly lit Soho bar. Dimmed lights cast warm, alluring shadows upon the walls, creating an ambiance perfect for anyone's mood.

Unbeknownst to Cillian, both you and Emma worked at Soho as part-time employees due to your close connections with the bar's owner, Michelle.

Michelle was a woman in her thirties who, just like you and Emma, attended law school during the day. 

Unlike you, however, she was rather wealthy after having inherited a good fortune from her late father, allowing her to own and operate various establishments throughout London. This included "Soho", which was one of her favorite spots. The bar held sentimental value for her, serving as an oasis where she found solitude amidst the bustling city. 

The pair settled into comfortable chairs near the bar counter, surveying the cozy yet lively interior decorated with exposed brick walls, antique mirrors, and tasteful light fixtures casting a soft glow on patrons.

"Couldn't stay away, could you?" Emma asked Jamie after she had spotted him while, all at the same time, you dropped your utensils when Cillian came into view. For some reason, you had not expected to see him again, but here he was, at your work, having a few drinks with Jamie. 

"No, I couldn't," Jamie teased without showing her genuine affection in public. For what Michelle and the other waitresses knew, Emma was nothing but an acquaintance to Jamie Dornan and, ironically enough, most of them wanted her to introduce them to the famous actor. 

Jamie and Cillian ordered a couple of bottles of beer, taking a seat against the wall. Tired from the evening's events, they sank deep into their seats, watching the crowd move restlessly around them.

Cillian occasionally glanced over towards you, unable to help stealing subtle peeks every once in a while. His gaze then drifted towards the bar, where rows of whiskey glasses gleamed seductively under the low lights.

"Stop starring at her. You are making her nervous, "Jamie joked as he noticed Cillian's frequent glances toward you. 

"I am not starring!" Cillian defensively responded, sipping his beer and averting his eyes.

"You are. But that's okay. After all, you got to fuck her last night. Just calm down and let her work though, alright?" Jamie said, smirking playfully.

Cillian hesitated slightly, trying to suppress his growing desire. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact with you before realizing that hiding his attraction would only become increasingly challenging as the night wore on and the drinks kept flowing. 

"Look, let's call it a night soon," Cillian finally spoke up, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen upon them. "These drinks are starting to get to us anyway," he pointed out just as Emma knocked off and walked over towards their table with a drink in her hand. 

"True," agreed Jamie, nodding along, though a faint smile played on his lips. "Do you want to come to my place? I am sure Emma would like you to join us again," Jamie invited Cillian with a slight pause. 

"Not tonight. I need to catch up on some sleep before my interviews tomorrow," Cillian declined, his eyes betraying a twinge of reluctance while Emma suggested that, at the very least, he should finish his last bottle of beer.

"Sounds like a plan," Cillian conceded, his focus returning to his half-empty bottle while you, too, finished up your shift and joined the trio.

"Hello strangers! How are we feeling tonight?" you asked casually, placing two extra bottles of beer on the table - much to the delight of Jamie who was not yet ready to leave.

Cillian, on the other hand, was yawning and you too were exhausted from your long shift.

After a while and some more conversation between the four of you, you decided to finally excuse yourself and head back to your flat since it was getting quite late. 

"How are you getting home?" Cillian enquired as you made plans to depart, alone.

"I parked out the back. I don't like taking the tube at night on my own," you answered nonchalantly and, much to your surprise, he seemed relieved.

"That makes sense," acknowledged Cillian as he drained the remainder of his drink. "I will walk you to your car and then head off myself, alright?" he suggested to which you nodded agreeably. 

***

As Cillian accompanied you to your car, the night air felt fresh despite the humid summer heat while his body itself was radiating warmth. There was something incredibly attractive about him which intrigued you and he was aware of your attraction too, evident in the way he looked at you — those intense blue eyes burning brightly even under the streetlights, the curve of his mouth hinting at something far beyond simple friendliness.

Yet, you didn't dare say anything. Instead, you chose to walk alongside him silently, cherishing these fleeting moments together, unsure if they would ever happen again after you had already made up your mind not to call him following last night's encounter. 

As you approached your car, however, everything else came to a standstill.

"So, um..." you stammered. "How are you getting back to your hotel? Do you need a lift?" you offered politely, suddenly finding yourself wishing to prolong your unexpected reunion.

Cillian looked surprised but grateful as he accepted your offer without hesitation. 

"That would be grand, thank you," he expressed, reaching for the door handle to open yours for you before walking towards the passenger side of the car and taking a seat next to you.

Your hands trembled slightly as you tried inserting the key into the ignition slot. This small gesture of kindness brought forth so many mixed feelings.

Embarrassment quickly flooded your face, turning redder than usual. Trying hard to regain composure, you attempted to start the engine of your car but your efforts were futile. The car would not start. 

"God dammit," you cursed, hitting the dashboard lightly with frustration. Cillian simply watched, observing how your cheeks flushed deeper with embarrassment as you struggled with the malfunctioning engine before speaking up.

"Don't worry about it. Let me call roadside assistance. They are usually pretty quick in London," he said with a gentle tone while tears started forming in your eyes from pure exhaustion, relief, and vulnerability. It dawned on you – no matter how much you desired to forget your meeting with him, fate conspired otherwise in the most irritating way possible. 

"No don't. I can't...." you began to say, panicking and desperately hoping that he wouldn't notice how utterly disheveled you truly were beneath your professional exterior. "But thanks. I appreciate it." 

"Y/N, you can't just leave the car here. You will get fined if you do," Cillian stated firmly while watching you lose your mind. "It's alright. It's not a big deal. We will just make the call and they will come out and probably replace the battery. I will wait with you. It's all good," Cillian confidently declared, trying to calm you down but you kept shaking your head.

"I can't afford it. It will cost at least a few hundred pounds," you explained with a defeated voice, looking away as Cillian raised an eyebrow, sensing your less than fortunate situation.

He moved closer, offering a sympathetic grimace. "Don't stress, Y/N. I can pay for it," Cillian assured you gently, reaching for his phone and dialing the emergency number as you continued to argue with yourself mentally, debating whether accepting his generosity might compromise your independence. 

"No, I can't accept this, really. Thank you, though. Seriously," you pleaded; however, your pleading fell on deaf ears as he put on his best persuasion tactics.

"Y/N, please. Let me take care of this. Trust me, you can't leave the car here. You will get fined more than the battery would cost, especially if you get towed overnight," he told you and, with little room left for refusal, you caved in, feeling torn apart inside. Despite wanting to maintain your distance from him, there was still something undeniable about the man. Perhaps it was his raw charm, captivating presence, or his sincerity.

"I will pay you back when I can," you whispered quietly, attempting to hide your shame at accepting such an act of kindness from someone you barely knew.

"There's no need," he replied firmly, holding your gaze intimately, but you insisted. 

"No seriously Cillian. I will pay you back

when I can," you repeated resolutely, determined to hold onto what remained of your dignity. Yet, even through the dim street lamps, you could see the intensity in his eyes, burning right through your resolve. He took your hand gently in his, rubbing comfortingly with his thumb.

"Y/N, stop. It's fine," he whispered softly before, finally, roadside assistance picked up the phone.

After providing the necessary information, Cillian handed it over to you. With his guidance, you navigated through the automated system until a service provider confirmed the arrival time. Relief surfaced across your face.

Cillian smiled, recognizing your gratitude. "Thank you," you breathed deeply, feeling calmed momentarily, allowing yourself to relax against the cold leather seat, your heart racing as you realized how close you now stood to him due to the limited space within the confines of the car.

"Do you want to go back inside while we wait?" you asked, but Cillian shook his head head decisively. "No, let's stay out here. I prefer it outside," he stated firmly, pulling out a cigarette packet from his pocket and lighting one up. His eyes turned glassy as smoke swirled around him, creating an ethereal aura surrounding him. Your eyes followed his every move.

"You know you don't actually have to wait around with me. You can go with Jamie and Emma," you said sheepishly, glancing at Cillian briefly, trying to gauge his reaction. He only chuckled softly, shaking his head playfully, clearly unbothered by your suggestion.

"No, I had enough excitement last night and, to tell you the truth, these things are a lot of work," he admitted candidly, blowing out a cloud of smoke before continuing.

"So, you are saying that threesome are hard work, huh?" you questioned curiously, raising an eyebrow while secretly admiring his frank honesty. He smirked wryly, tossing the cigarette stub away into the darkened street below.

"Yes, don't you think?" Cillian asked before continuing this conversation. "I mean, they are fun, occasionally, but not regularly," he admitted candidly, making eye contact with you once more. You couldn't help but feel drawn to him as he spoke with such openness, his words resonating deep within your core. You found yourself unable to resist probing further.

"So, you prefer one on one encounters then?", you queried curiously, amused yet somewhat confused by his admission. "Well, mostly," he responded candidly, blowing out another puff of smoke. "Though sometimes it depends on who I'm with and the chemistry." Cillian added thoughtfully just as, finally, roadside assistance 

arrived to change your dead battery. Their appearance provided temporary reprieve from the escalating sexual tension between both of you.  

The mechanic worked efficiently on your car, carefully replacing the old battery with a new one. While they completed their task, Cillian and you stood outside and you were getting visibly cold. 

He noticed your shivering and pulled off his jacket to drape it over your shoulders, engulfing you warmly. You felt like a bird trapped in a cage - caught up in the magnetic pull that seemed to exist between you two. Unconsciously, your body shifted slightly closer to his, seeking some form of heat from his frame. But, instead of reacting, he merely stared straight ahead, appearing unfazed by your proximity.

When the mechanics were finally

done fixing your car, you silently wondered why he bothered helping you tonight. Hadn’t it been too much trouble for him? Nonetheless, you refused to express any signs of indebtedness or sentimentality and, after he paid the mechanic's bill, you both jumped into your car.  

Despite the late hour, traffic was relatively smooth and quiet, allowing you to navigate the streets together seamlessly. As you cruised along, the mood became increasingly awkward.

You exchanged polite, neutral conversation which did nothing to alleviate the palpable tension. Despite sharing laughter over trivial matters, you couldn't shake the feeling that the air was charged, electric even. You attributed it to the circumstances under which you met – a combination of intense desire and circumstance, but you also couldn't deny that something else lay hidden beneath it all. Something far more potent than simple attraction.

Unphased by this however, you dropped off Cillian at his hotel. After thanking him profusely again for everything, he said goodbye, kissing you on the forehead tenderly before stepping out of the car and heading back inside.

"It was good to see you again, Y/N. Call me know if you ever want to catch up," he said and, with that, the door closed behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sat there for a moment, taking in the lingering scent of his cologne mixed with your own musky pheromones. The memories of your passionate encounter played vividly in your mind, consuming you completely. Your fingers traced light patterns upon your skin where his hands had held you so tightly. Unable to escape the power he held over you, you drove back home, haunted by his touch, knowing deep down inside that you should not be getting involved with this man. It was something you should not pursue and, with that, you remained resolute to avoid him from that point forward. 

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