#it’s fun! thinking about stories is fun! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

edenesth · 2 days

Text

ATEEZ as Disney Princes

Pairing(s): disney prince!ateez x disney princess!reader

Word Count: 14.4k

A/N: The title says it all. I thought it'd be fun to do something like this for the first time, deviating from my usual one member per story format teehee. Special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for helping me decide which Disney princes San, Mingi, and Wooyoung should be💘

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Hongjoong ↠ Li Shang (Mulan)

• Leadership • Discipline • Protector •

"The Huns have struck here, here, and here," the senior General Kim pointed to the map, his voice steady and commanding. "I will lead the main troops to the Tung Shao Pass and stop Shan-Yu before he destroys this village. You will stay behind and train the new recruits. When Chi Fu believes you're ready, you will join us, Captain."

"Captain?" Hongjoong repeated, his voice filled with disbelief. This was the moment he had been dreaming of for as long as he could remember. He had trained the hardest and longest among his batch, fighting tirelessly to prove his worth to his commanding officer. It was finally his time to shine and demonstrate his capabilities.

"I believe you will do an excellent job," General Kim affirmed.

"Oh, I will. I won't let you down, sir," the younger man replied with determination.

It was during the Imperial dynasty in China that, as the Huns attempted to invade, the nation plunged into war. Yet, not all hope was lost. The young and fiery Captain Hongjoong was assigned to take charge of the new recruits. He would motivate them and push them to reach their full potential. His ability to inspire and lead by example would soon become evident as he transformed a group of untrained soldiers into a disciplined unit.

⁞

Throughout the training, Hongjoong enforces strict discipline among his soldiers. He sets high standards and expectations, ensuring that the recruits develop the necessary skills and physical conditioning through rigorous exercises. His disciplined approach is crucial in preparing them for the challenges ahead.

You would know this firsthand. Despite your best efforts, you had lost hope, feeling out of place because, at the end of the day, you were not a man. But Hongjoong didn't know that. No one in the camp knew.

"You're unsuited for the rage of war. So pack up and go home," he had said, shaking his head in disappointment as he stalked off.

There was something about him that made you want to fight harder, to prove that you could do what the other soldiers could. To his pleasant surprise, he emerged from his tent the following morning to see your fellow soldiers applauding you for successfully completing the toughest task in the camp.

This was exactly what he wanted to see.

You used to fear him for his harsh and uncompromising behaviour, but now you understand. In the face of war, no one would show you kindness or consideration. Captain Hongjoong was doing exactly what he needed to prepare everyone for that reality.

⁞

"You think your troops are ready to fight?" Chi Fu scoffed. "They wouldn't last a minute against the Huns!"

Hongjoong scowled, clenching his fists. "They completed their training."

"Those boys are no more fit to be soldiers than you are to be a captain. Once the general reads my report, your troops will never see battle," Chi Fu sneered, gesturing for the younger man to leave.

"We're not finished!" Hongjoong called out, grabbing the man's arm.

"Be careful, Captain. The general may be your father, but I am the Emperor's counsel. And I got that job on my own. You're dismissed," Chi Fu said snarkily, pulling open the flap of his tent.

There it was—the comment Hongjoong hated most. Being called the son of General Kim. He had heard enough whispers of nepotism, undermining his hard-earned success. He didn't want to be seen as just the general's son; he had worked tirelessly to earn his position.

He stormed out of the tent, surprised to see you standing there. "Hey, I'll hold him, and you punch," you joked nervously, but he frowned and continued walking. "Or not." You bit your lip as he walked away. "For what it's worth, I think you're a great captain."

His steps faltered for a moment, and he turned to meet your eyes briefly. In that fleeting glance, his eyes seemed to show what looked like a hint of appreciation before he continued on his way.

At least someone still believed in him.

⁞

And that someone was… a girl.

Hongjoong discovered this during the mountain battle when the Huns ambushed and you saved him. You had lied, fooling everyone, even him. How dare you? How dare you… try to save your father's life by volunteering to fight in the war? After the initial feelings of disappointment and betrayal, he realised just how brave you were—a quality that put cowardly men to shame.

Not only that, your perseverance had ended up saving China, something he couldn't have done without you.

Guilt overwhelmed him after leaving you behind, injured and alone on the snowy mountain, after you had risked your life to save his. The image of you lying vulnerable and exposed in the small tent haunted him—your hair finally let down, revealing your true identity; your petite frame contrasting with the fabric tightly wrapped around your chest to hide your gender. In his emotional turmoil at the time, he had abandoned you. But if he could do it over, he knew he would have done everything differently to protect you.

That's why he was determined to make up for his mistake by protecting you now, even though he knew deep down that he would have protected you regardless.

"Where is she?! Now she's done it! What a mess! Stand aside! That creature's not worth protecting," the Emperor's counsel screeched, trying to push past Hongjoong, who was shielding you. He gestured toward the destroyed portion of the palace from your earlier battle with Shan-Yu and his men.

The captain stood his ground. "She's a hero."

"She's a woman. She'll never be worth anything."

"Listen, you pompous..." Hongjoong growled, grabbing Chi Fu by the collar.

"That's enough!" the Emperor roared, breaking the two apart. The focus shifted to what was truly important: the fact that the war was finally over, thanks to a certain female warrior.

⁞

While Hongjoong possessed exceptional leadership skills, discipline, and a protective nature, he still had moments of foolishness.

"You, uhh... you fight good."

Was that all he could muster? After everything you had been through together, perhaps you were overthinking it. Maybe he didn't see you in that way at all. Maybe you were just another good soldier to him.

"Oh. Thank you."

Like an idiot, he watched you depart, a sense of longing tugging at his heart. Unbeknownst to him, the Emperor appeared beside him, clearing his throat before speaking, "The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all."

"Sir?" Hongjoong blinked in confusion.

"You don't meet a girl like that in every dynasty," the Emperor remarked, indirectly calling the captain a fool, shaking his head in disbelief before returning to the palace.

Finally grasping the meaning behind His Excellency's words, Captain Hongjoong hastily mounted the nearest horse and rode swiftly to your family estate. He should have recognised the affection he felt for you sooner. Gosh, he truly had been clueless.

He arrived just in time to interrupt your tearful reunion with your father. "Uhh… you forgot your helmet!" he stuttered, turning awkwardly to the elderly man beside you, the one you had gone to war for. "W-well, actually, it's your helmet, isn't it? I mean…"

You suppressed a smile, feeling your heart flutter as you understood his obvious reason for visiting. Stepping closer to him, you reached out to accept the helmet. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

He blushed. "Dinner would be great."

Seonghwa ↠ Prince Charming (Cinderella)

• Gentlemanly • Graceful • Loyal •

"Miss! Are you alright?" the prince called out after helping you rein in your horse, which had been racing out of control. You huffed in frustration. "I'm fine, but you nearly scared the life out of him."

He frowned, confused. "Who?"

"The stag," you replied incredulously. How could he act so innocent when he and his group had been hunting down a poor creature? "What did he ever do to you to deserve being chased like that?"

His Highness struggled to suppress the smile tugging at his lips. The way you spoke of the animal as if it were a dear friend was endearing, and he could see that you genuinely cared for the animal. Not many girls your age, at least those he had met, would show such compassion. "Miss, what do they call you?"

Your smile faltered, memories of the cruel names your stepmother and stepsisters used flashing in your mind. "It doesn't matter what they call me."

"You shouldn't be this deep in the forest alone," he pointed out.

"I'm not alone. I'm with you, Mister...?" you said lightly, before pausing and glancing at him curiously. "What do they call you?"

Realising you had no clue who he was, he chuckled. "You don't know who I am?" His expression softened when he saw that you truly didn't recognise him. "Well... they call me Seonghwa. At least, my father does when he's in a good mood."

There was something refreshing about meeting someone who didn't know his royal identity, and he felt strangely free at this moment. Determined to keep it that way, he quickly came up with white lies to conceal the truth. Just then, you noticed the group of men who had been hunting with him gallop by, and you swallowed nervously. "You'll leave the stag alone, won't you?"

He paused, captivated by your sincerity and beauty—both inside and out—before nodding slowly. "I will."

⁞

"If I must marry, why not a good, honest country girl?" Seonghwa slyly suggested, posing for his portrait as part of the preparations for the royal ball, where he was expected to find a bride. Ever since meeting you that day in the woods, you hadn't left his thoughts.

The Grand Duke barely held back a chuckle. "And how many strong alliances will this 'good, honest country girl' provide us? How will she strengthen the kingdom? We are a small nation surrounded by powerful states, Your Royal Highness, and it's a dangerous world."

His Majesty sighed at the man's sarcastic tone and approached his son. "Listen, boy. I want to see you safe—and the kingdom secure."

Seonghwa's expression darkened at the gentle rejection. "Alright, Father, but on one condition. Let the invitations go to everyone, not just the nobility. The wars have brought grief to all of us."

That was all it took to set things in motion. "A ball for the people, a princess for the prince," the advisor muttered, unaware of how determined His Highness truly was. His plan to see you again was falling into place.

Days later, as you wandered through the town market, you heard the town crier make the announcement. "Know that in two weeks, a Royal Ball will be held at the palace. At said ball, in accordance with ancient custom, the prince shall choose a bride. Furthermore, by the prince's request, it is hereby declared that every maiden in the kingdom, be she noble or commoner, is invited to attend. Such is the command of our most noble king."

Eager to see the apprentice—at least, that's what he claimed to be—whom you'd met in the forest just the other day, you rushed home to share the news with your stepmother and stepsisters, brimming with excitement. But, of course, things were not going to unfold the way you had hoped.

⁞

"You shall not go to the ball!" were your stepmother's cruel words after she ripped apart your mother's old gown.

Yet here you stood, in front of everyone in the grand hall, now adorned in a magical gown and sparkling glass slippers, thanks to your fairy godmother. The prince's face lit up the moment he saw you, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful girl in the world—and to him, you were. No one could ever compare.

"Mr. Seonghwa," you called softly as the crowd parted, allowing you to approach him. His heart melted at the sound of his name on your lips. "It's you, isn't it?" he asked, smiling. "It is," you replied with a smile of your own.

Gathering his courage, he swallowed nervously. "If I may—it would be the greatest honour if you'd allow me to lead you in this first dance."

Your heart fluttered, and you nodded. With your permission, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. The proximity made your breath hitch as your hand rested on his shoulder. He spun you around, and for a moment, you caught the eyes of the crowd. "They're all looking at you," you whispered, turning to face him again.

He smiled softly, shaking his head. "Trust me, they're all looking at you." In that moment, nothing else mattered to him but you. Holding you close, he couldn't tear his eyes away, not even for a second. He could stay like this forever.

⁞

"So, you're the prince!" you exclaimed as he led you away from the crowd into a secluded room, offering you both a moment of peace and quiet.

"Not the prince, exactly," he replied with a playful grin. "There are plenty of princes in the world. I'm just a prince."

You chuckled softly. "But your name's not really Seonghwa, is it?"

He laughed. "Oh, it is. My father still calls me that—especially when he's not too irritated with me."

As you both shared a laugh, your eyes landed on a portrait hanging on the wall. "Is that you?" you asked curiously, moving toward it.

He sighed. "Ugh, I hate how I look in paintings. Don't you?"

You shrugged. "No one's ever painted my portrait."

He paused, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "No? Well, they should."

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as you stared at one another, neither wanting the moment to end. Reluctant to part from you, Seonghwa led you out into the palace garden.

"What's bothering you?" you asked, noticing the flicker of concern in his eyes as you strolled down the grassy paths.

He forced a smile. "When I go back, they'll try to marry me off to a lady of their choosing. I'm expected to marry for political advantage."

You gave him a gentle smile. "But surely you have a right to follow your own heart."

He sighed, wishing that were true. Not wanting the evening to end just yet, he guided you to a hidden spot. "A secret garden," you murmured in awe, stepping into the beautiful, secluded space. In the centre stood a swing, and at his insistence, he pushed you gently, laughing together until one of your glass slippers slipped off.

Like the gentleman he was, Seonghwa immediately knelt down to help you put it back on. Once it was secure, you found yourself sitting close to him, your breaths catching as he remained on his knees, gazing up at you.

"Won't you tell me who you really are?" he asked softly, a hint of desperation in his voice.

You swallowed nervously. "If I do, everything might change."

His expression tugged at your heart. "I don't understand... Can you at least tell me your name?"

You hesitated, then whispered, "My name is—"

The loud chime of the clock rang out, striking midnight. Panic surged through you. "I have to go! It's... hard to explain. Thank you for a wonderful evening. I've loved every moment!" were your final words as you hurried away.

⁞

"Miss, you are requested and required to present yourself before your king," said the captain of the royal guard, as your cruel stepmother finally unlocked the door to your attic room.

The king...?

That could only mean Seonghwa, with his father having recently passed. Despite your stepmother's desperate attempts to stop you, she could no longer keep you from meeting him. With nervous breaths, you made your way down to the living hall where he waited. Would you be enough? There was no magic to help you now.

"Who are you?" he asked, holding the single glass slipper in his hand.

With a deep breath, you finally spoke your truth. "Your Majesty, I'm no princess. I have no carriage, no parents, and no dowry. I don't even know if that beautiful slipper will fit. But if it does, will you take me as I am? An honest country girl who loves you."

A soft smile spread across his face. His loyalty has only ever been to you and only you from the very beginning. "Of course I will. But only if you will take me as I am."

In that final moment of truth, you sat before him just like that night, and without hesitation, Seonghwa gently slipped the shoe onto your foot. It fit perfectly. After searching the entire kingdom to find you, you were finally here, his at last.

A few days later, you stood beside him in a wedding gown, facing the people as their queen. "My Queen," he whispered, cupping your face amidst the cheers of the crowd.

"My Hwa," you murmured, just before he pressed his lips firmly against yours.

Yunho ↠ Prince Phillip (Sleeping Beauty)

• Brave • Romantic • Strong-willed •

"We want you to go pick some berries! Lots of berries! But take your time, dear. Don't wander too far, and remember—no talking to strangers! Goodbye, dear," your three godmothers chimed in unison as you waved them off. They were so charmingly silly, and though you knew they were up to something for your 16th birthday, you played along and agreed to leave the cosy little cottage you'd grown up in.

What you didn't know was that your godmothers were feeling bittersweet. After the celebration, they would be returning you to your true parents—the king and queen. They had kept you hidden all these years from Maleficent's curse, and now, believing it was finally safe, they prepared to send you home. Or so they thought.

Completely unaware of this, you happily made your way to the forest where you often spent your days, swinging the empty basket in your hand and singing a familiar tune.

Not far off, Yunho caught the sound of your voice—the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He pulled his horse to a stop, biting his lip in wonder. "What is that? It's... beautiful." Turning toward the source of the melody, he couldn't resist. "Come on, let's go find out."

In his haste to reach you, his horse galloped ahead, easily leaping over a low log—unfortunately, not quite low enough for the prince. Yunho yelped as he was thrown into a shallow pond, landing with a splash. He groaned, unamused, as his horse sheepishly returned, having noticed his rider was no longer on board.

So much for chasing the magical voice. Now he was stuck with wet clothes, needing to dry off before he could continue his search.

⁞

"Why do they still treat me like a child? They never let me meet anyone..." you sighed, speaking to the animals gathered around you. "But guess what? I tricked them. I have met someone—a prince. He's tall, handsome, and... so romantic. We walk together, talk together, and just before we say goodbye, he takes me in his arms, and then..." you teased with a playful smile. "I wake up."

"Yes, it's only in my dreams."

Pushing aside your wistful thoughts, you continued to sing softly while gathering berries. But to your surprise, another voice joined in—a deep, masculine voice. Before you knew it, a pair of arms gently mirrored the way yours had been swaying in your daydream.

"Oh. Oh!" you gasped, pulling away as you realised this wasn't a dream. A man was standing before you, real and not imagined. Not wanting to frighten you, he kept his distance and bowed politely. "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

You blinked, trying to calm your racing heart as you took in his features—he looked exactly like the man you had seen in your dreams. "Oh, it's not that... it's just that you're a..."

As you instinctively stepped back, he gently reached for your hand. "A stranger?" he finished for you, and you nodded. Before you could pull away, he smiled and held on softly. "But don't you remember? We've met before."

"We... have?" you whispered, your voice faltering.

He nodded, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. "Of course. You said so yourself. Once upon a dream."

You couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips as you turned away, amused by how he cleverly quoted your song. At first, you resisted, but soon you found yourself in his arms, dancing to the tune you had been singing. Except this time, you were no longer alone—you were dancing with him.

As if caught in a dream, you eventually leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as the two of you stood beneath a tree, gazing out at the beautiful view. His voice was soft when he asked, "Who are you? What's your name?"

"My name..." you started, staring up into his eyes, momentarily mesmerised by them. You almost gave him your name, but then reality hit you—you didn't even know him. With a gasp, you pulled away from his hold. "No, no, I can't. I—I have to go! Goodbye!"

Yunho panicked, not ready to let you slip away. Call it love at first sight, but he knew, deep down, you were the one. "But when will I see you again?" he called out, his eyes filled with longing as he watched you retreat into the forest.

"Tonight! At the cottage in the glen!" you blurted out, against your better judgement. Deep down, you couldn't bear the thought of leaving and never seeing him again either.

⁞

"This is the happiest day of my life!" you exclaimed, admiring the beautiful dress and the delicious cake your godmothers had made for you. "Everything is so perfect. Just wait until you meet him!"

"Him? Y-you've met a stranger?" one of the fairies asked, concerned.

You smiled dreamily. "Oh, he's not a stranger. We've met before—once upon a dream."

The fairies exchanged worried glances, their hearts breaking as they realised... you were in love. "Oh no, this is terrible. You're already betrothed."

"Betrothed?" Your heart sank.

"Since the day you were born, dear. To Prince Yunho."

You frowned in disbelief. "But that's impossible! How could I marry a prince? I'd have to be..."

"A princess," they finished for you. "And you are, dear. Tonight, we're taking you back to your father, King Stefan."

Shaking your head, you struggled to process the sudden revelation. "But... I can't! He's coming here tonight. I promised to meet him."

"We're sorry, child, but you must never see that young man again," one of them said softly.

It felt like a cruel joke. Just when you had finally met the man of your dreams, it all crumbled. That night, you cried yourself to sleep, your 16th birthday turning into something far from the magical day you had hoped for. And it was only going to get worse.

With a curse of eternal sleep.

⁞

"Oh, come now, Prince Yunho. Why so melancholy?" Maleficent's sinister voice echoed through the dungeon as he lifted his head, his hands shackled in heavy chains. She had trapped him during his visit to your vacant cottage and now kept him imprisoned on her Forbidden Mountain. "A wondrous future lies before you," she mocked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You, the destined hero of a charming fairy tale come true."

With a wave of her hand over the glowing crystal ball atop her staff, she smirked. "Behold, King Stefan's castle." A vision slowly materialised in the crystal, and his heart sank.

"In the highest tower, dreaming of her true love, lies the princess," Maleficent sneered. "But in a cruel twist of fate, this sleeping beauty is none other than the peasant girl who won your heart just yesterday." Her grin widened as the image shifted. "In an ageless sleep, she rests, untouched by time. A hundred years will pass in the blink of an eye for a steadfast heart."

The crystal revealed an older, wearier version of His Highness. "And now, the gates of the dungeon open, and our valiant prince rides forth, tall and noble, to wake his love with a kiss—proving that true love conquers all!"

Her wicked laughter filled the air as the prince surged to his feet, straining against the chains. The revelation hit him hard—you were his betrothed all along. His heart shattered at the sight of you, cursed to an endless sleep. But he refused to wait idly for a century. No matter the cost, even if it took his life, nothing would stop him from reaching you and breaking the spell.

⁞

Through trials that nearly cost him his life more than once, Yunho pressed on, driven by a love that burned stronger than fear. Every step, every swing of his sword, had been for you. Now, as he climbed the winding staircase of the tower where you lay, his heart pounded louder than it ever had. Strangely, facing you was far more terrifying than battling a dragon or plummeting from a cliff.

What if his kiss didn't wake you? What if he wasn't the one you dreamed of all this time? His mind raced with doubts, but all of them vanished the moment he laid eyes on you.

There you were, peacefully resting, untouched by the passage of time. His breath caught in his throat as he knelt beside you, his hands trembling slightly, almost afraid that if he reached out, you might disappear like a fading dream. Gently, he lifted a hand to brush your hair away from your face, his fingers lingering as they drifted down to caress your cheek. The softness of your skin beneath his touch made his heart clench. God, you were beautiful. Even in this endless sleep, you were breathtaking, and the thought that you were his—the one his heart had longed for—was almost too much to believe.

Ignoring the wild rhythm of his heartbeat, he leaned in closer. He hesitated, his lips hovering above yours, terrified and hopeful. Slowly, he closed the distance, pressing his lips tenderly against yours, his touch as gentle as a whisper. Time seemed to stand still. His entire world narrowed down to that single, precious moment.

Then, something incredible happened. He felt you stir, your lips moving ever so softly in response to his. Tears welled up in his eyes as he pulled back slightly, his gaze searching your face, desperate to see the miracle of your awakening. "Please," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "come back to me."

A soft smile played on your lips as your eyes fluttered open. "I'm here, stranger," you murmured. Yunho let out a tearful laugh, pure joy flooding his heart as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. Nothing had ever felt so perfect.

Yeosang ↠ Hercules (Hercules)

• Strength • Determination • Humility •

A scream pierced the air, and without a second thought, Yeosang urged Pegasus to dive down past the clouds toward the waterfall, where a damsel was clearly in distress. This was it—his first real chance to prove himself as a true hero. Soon enough, he'd restore his godhood and join his parents back in Olympus.

"I swear, Nessus, put me down or I'll—" you growled, struggling in the grasp of the River Guardian, a centaur who was supposed to be an ally on your mission for Hades, but he was proving to be more trouble than he was worth.

"Ooh, I like 'em fiery," the creature sneered, pulling you closer as you tried in vain to wriggle free.

The hero-in-training gasped, his blood boiling at the sight of you being manhandled. Not on his watch. Ignoring his trainer's advice to assess the situation, he charged forward recklessly. Phil groaned. "This kid is losing hero points fast!"

"Halt!" Yeosang called out, though his voice wavered when Nessus towered over him. "Excuse me, sir," he continued, much to the centaur's surprise. Who was this polite little pest? "I'll have to ask you to release that young la—"

You shot him a frustrated look. "Keep walking, junior."

He blinked, confused. "But... aren't you a damsel in distress?"

"I'm a damsel, I'm in distress," you snapped. "I can handle it. Have a nice day." Despite your sarcastic smile, you were still stuck in the centaur's grip, struggling to break free.

Yeosang, however, wasn't one to give up so easily. A bit flustered by your brush-off, he unsheathed his sword. "Ma'am, I think you might be too close to the situation to—" Before he could finish, Nessus sent him flying across the field.

After several clumsy attempts and a lot of trial and error, he finally managed to free you from the River Guardian's hold, though you both ended up soaked in the river. Quickly, he lifted you out of the water as if you weighed nothing and set you gently on a nearby log. "Oh, gosh, miss, I'm really sorry. That was... kind of dumb."

"Yeah," you replied with a crooked smile, wringing out your hair. Before you could say anything more, he dashed back into the fray. You smirked, amused by his naive determination and innocent sense of righteousness. It had been a while since you'd seen such a genuine do-gooder. "Is Wonderboy here for real?"

⁞

"So, did they give you a name to go with all those rippling pectorals?" you teased, bending over to adjust the skirt of your dress.

The hero's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as he stared at you, now bathed in the golden light of the sunset. You were a sight for sore eyes—more beautiful than Aphrodite herself, he dared to think.

He chuckled nervously, stammering like a shy schoolboy. "Uh, I'm—I… uh…"

You smirked, standing back up and retrieving the shoes he had been awkwardly holding for you. "Are you always this articulate?"

"Yeosang!" he blurted out, watching you walk away. "My... my name's Yeosang!"

Making your way to a nearby log to sit down, you glanced up at him with a playful grin. "Yeosang, huh? I think I prefer Wonderboy."

He bit his lip, completely unaware of how poorly he was hiding his emotions. It was obvious to anyone that he was completely mesmerised by you. "So, how'd you get tangled up with that..."

"Pinhead with hooves? Oh, you know how men are. They think 'no' means 'yes' and 'get lost' means 'take me, I'm yours,'" you quipped, your voice dripping with sarcasm. He blinked, clearly confused by your response. You rolled your eyes and gestured toward his trainer. "Don't worry, shorty here will explain it to you later."

Phil shot you an irritated glare, but you just waved him off. "Well, thanks for everything, Yeo. It's been a real slice."

You had barely taken a few steps when the hero called after you again, his voice full of determination. "Wait! Can we give you a ride?"

You glanced at Pegasus and Phil, both clearly unimpressed with you, and smirked. "Nah, I'll be fine. I'm a big, tough girl. I tie my own sandals and everything."

Leaning in, you gave him a quick boop on the nose, chuckling as he stood there with that dreamy smile still plastered on his face. "Bye-bye, Wonderboy."

⁞

You hadn't expected to see him again so soon, but there he was, and you had to act fast. Running up to him, you let out a false cry. "Please! Help! There's been a terrible accident!" You hated dragging him into this, but with Hades holding your freedom hostage, you had no choice. You had to lure him into the trap.

The hero's face brightened the moment he saw you, your name escaping his lips with excitement. After his earlier failure in Thebes, seeing you lifted his spirits. He needed this—he needed you.

"Wonderboy! Yeosang! Thank goodness!" you exclaimed, stumbling into his arms with an air of desperation. His grip on you tightened protectively, his eyes wide with concern. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice full of worry.

Sniffling, you wiped your fake tears away. "Outside of town... two little boys. They were playing in the gorge. There was a terrible rockslide. They're trapped!"

"Kids? Trapped? This is my chance! Come on!" Before you could object, he had already hoisted you onto Pegasus despite your protests. "No, wait! I... I have a terrible fear of heights!" But it was too late—you were already in the sky, holding on tightly as the wind whipped past.

When you finally arrived, he noticed how shaken you seemed. His brow furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"

You nodded weakly. "I'll be fine." But even then, he gently pulled you close, helping you down. The flutter in your chest was unwelcome—you shouldn't feel this way. You stayed back, watching as he rushed forward, unaware of the Hydra waiting to destroy him. Hades had set it up perfectly, and this was Yeosang's end. You should have focused on your own survival, but you couldn't help whispering under your breath, "Get out of here while you still can..."

Despite everything, he wasn't deterred. Time and again, he fought against what seemed like a certain defeat, his determination unshakable. Even after facing near death, he refused to give up, ultimately defeating the monster.

As much as you hated to admit it, seeing him fight with such bravery and resolve stirred something inside you. His courage, his power—it only deepened your admiration for him.

⁞

"Wow, what a day," Yeosang said with a wide grin, descending the stairs into the picturesque garden. "First, that restaurant by the bay, and then the play!" His voice was animated, clearly still buzzing from the events of your date. Meanwhile, you struggled to maintain your smile, Hades' voice echoing in your mind with his latest demand. His patience was thinning after so many failed attempts. Now, he wanted you to find the hero's weakness.

When he turned to you, thanking you for such a wonderful time, you winced inwardly. "Don't thank me just yet," you muttered, setting your plan into motion. You deliberately tripped on the stairs, conveniently falling into his strong arms.

"Oops! Weak ankles," you murmured, biting your lip as you savoured the feeling of being so close to him. His grip was firm yet gentle.

"Yeah? Maybe you should sit down for a bit," he suggested like the gentleman he always was, carrying you over to a bench and setting you down with care. But how long would he stay a gentleman?

You shrugged, letting one of your dress straps slide down your shoulder, flashing him a seductive smile. "So, do you have any problems like this?" you asked, testing the waters as you slowly lifted one leg onto his lap. "Weak ankles, I mean."

His eyes widened, and he cleared his throat, gently but firmly pushing your leg back down. "Oh, no. Not really..." he stammered, inching away while you leaned in closer.

"No weaknesses at all?" you teased, pressing against his chest. "No trick knee? Ruptured discs?"

Yeosang just chuckled nervously, his face reddening. Instead of falling for your flirtation, he reached over and pulled your strap back over your shoulder. "Nope. I'm... fit as a fiddle," he said, quickly moving away toward the fountain, where he clumsily tossed a coin and knocked over a statue.

You sighed, walking over to him. "Wonderboy, you're perfect," you muttered with a teasing laugh. Time seemed to freeze as your eyes met his, a flicker of something different passing between you. Biting your lip, you quickly looked away. Maybe, just maybe, he really was different from the men who had hurt you before.

⁞

"You know, when I was a kid, I would've given anything to be just like everyone else," Yeosang said softly, his eyes tracing the path of a shooting star across the night sky.

You scoffed, crossing your arms as you moved away to sit by the water, staring at your reflection with a bitter frown. "You wanted to be petty and dishonest?" You knew what people were like—you were one of them.

His smile faltered. "Not everyone's like that."

"Yes, they are," you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

"You're not like that," he said gently, appearing behind you. You smirked, feeling a tightness in your throat as you tried to keep your emotions in check. "How do you know what I'm like?" you croaked, wishing he'd stop making it so hard for you.

"All I know is you're the most amazing person with weak ankles I've ever met," he teased, his voice full of warmth. You chuckled until he continued, "When I'm with you, I don't feel so alone."

You avoided his gaze, your heart aching. "Sometimes it's better to be alone."

His smile faltered again. "What do you mean?"

You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper. "Nobody can hurt you."

He sat down beside you, reaching out to take your hands in his. "I would never, ever hurt you."

If only he knew...

Before you could say anything, he was already leaning in. Against your better judgement, your eyes fluttered closed, anticipation hanging between you. But just as your lips were about to meet, Pegasus and Phil appeared, breaking the moment and pulling Yeosang back to his training.

"I'm sorry for getting you in trouble," you murmured, feeling conflicted.

He just smiled, shaking his head, and handed you a small flower, gently pressing a kiss to your cheek. As he walked away, you were left behind—completely a mess.

⁞

"Wonderboy, why did you…?" you croaked, your voice weak after returning from death—literally. Yeosang had been crushed when he learned of your betrayal, discovering you had been working for Hades all along. But as you sacrificed yourself to save him, he realised none of that mattered anymore. Why hadn't he thought deeper about your reasons? If only he had understood that maybe you didn't have a choice.

In his selfless determination to exchange his life for yours, he had finally become a true hero. Tears welled up in his eyes as he helped you to your feet, pulling you gently back into his loving arms. "People always do crazy things when they're in love," he whispered—the same words you had said to him before your death.

So, he had felt the same all along.

"Now, at last, my son, you can come home," Zeus said, resting a proud hand on Yeosang's shoulder as he gestured to the now-open gates of Mount Olympus. The hero, now a god, beamed as the other gods swarmed him, celebrating his return.

From afar, you watched with a fading smile. Of course, he belonged to a different world. You were foolish to think you could ever truly be with him. "Congratulations, Wonderboy. You'll make one heck of a god," you whispered to yourself, turning to walk away.

But while the heavens rejoiced, Yeosang only had eyes for one person. His heart sank when he saw you leaving. "Father, this is the moment I've dreamed of my whole life, but…" He trailed off, racing after you and catching your hand. "A life without her, even an immortal life, would be empty. I… I wish to stay on Earth with her. I finally know where I belong."

And with that, he pulled you into his arms, the divine glow fading as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours at last.

San ↠ Kristoff (Frozen)

• Down-to-earth • Hardworking • Quirky •

"I was just wondering... has another young woman, maybe the queen, passed through here?" you asked, trying to sound casual, even though the bitter cold from Elsa's winter had you shivering uncontrollably. You were gathering what supplies you could from Wandering Oaken's Trading Post on your journey to find your sister. You needed to fix this, and to do that, she had to return to Arendelle.

"The only one crazy enough to be out in this storm is you, dear," the store owner chuckled, and you offered him an awkward smile. Before you could respond, the door suddenly swung open and slammed shut just as quickly. A man, completely covered in snow—literally—stepped in with a weary sigh, shaking off the frost by the entrance.

"You and this fellow," Oaken added, gesturing to the newcomer.

Without a word, the man walked straight to the counter, forcing you to step aside awkwardly. "Carrots," he muttered, stepping closer.

"Huh?" you blinked, confused by how close he was.

"Behind you," he clarified, and you realised you were blocking the carrots he was reaching for. Feeling a bit foolish, you quickly moved aside. "Oh! Right, sorry."

Through his conversation with the store owner, you caught a crucial piece of information. "The North Mountain..." you murmured to yourself, eyes narrowing in thought. That must be where Elsa had gone. At least now you had a lead—north it was.

"That'll be forty," Oaken said, ringing up the man's items.

"Forty? No, ten," the man countered, clearly unimpressed.

Deep in thought, you barely registered the tense negotiation between the two, both stubborn and unwilling to compromise. You only snapped back when you heard the man explain his dilemma—he sold ice for a living, and in this weather, he wasn't making any money. "Look, ten is all I've got. Help me out."

Before Oaken could respond, you jumped in. "Wait, just tell me one thing. What's happening on the North Mountain? Did it seem… magical?" There was desperation in your voice.

With an exasperated sigh, the man pulled down his scarf, revealing, to your surprise, a strikingly handsome face. For a second, you had thought him a brute. "Yes! Now back off while I deal with this crook."

Big mistake. The store owner stood up from his seat, towering over the both of you like a giant. "What did you call me?" And before the man knew it, he was tossed out of the shop—minus his carrots.

⁞

"Nice duet," you quipped, pushing open the door to the shack where you heard the man from earlier, now singing and impersonating his reindeer, Sven.

Startled, San jumped up defensively, only to relax with a sigh when he saw it was just you. "It's you again. What do you want?"

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward with determination. "I want you to take me up the North Mountain."

He remained unimpressed, sinking back down to resume his sleep. "I don't take people places."

You should've known it wouldn't be that easy. "Let me rephrase," you said, tossing a bag at him. He jolted up, wheezing from the impact. "Take me up the North Mountain," you repeated more firmly, though you softened a little as he raised a brow. "Please?"

Sven started sniffing the bag, drawing his attention. San opened it to find the tools he'd been after. You bit your lip. "Look, I know how to stop this winter."

With a sigh, he pulled his beanie over his face. "Ugh, we leave at dawn." Just as you were about to celebrate, he added, "And you forgot the carrots for Sven."

Frustrated but undeterred, you hurled another bag at him, this time hitting him square in the face. He grunted in pain, sitting up again. Your eyes widened in panic. "Oops! Sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean—" you stammered before regaining your composure. Clearing your throat, you declared firmly, "We leave now. Right now." You turned and marched out, letting out a breath of relief the moment you were out of sight. He really was intimidating.

Unbeknownst to you, he watched you leave, eyebrows narrowed. Not out of anger, but something else—a mix of mild annoyance and, oddly enough, admiration. You were quite the character.

⁞

"So, uhh, tell me—what made the queen go all ice-crazy?" San asked, trying to pry some information as the two of you sat on his sled, the cold winter night biting at your skin.

You gulped, unsure where to begin. "Well... it was kinda my fault. I got engaged, and she freaked out because I'd just met him that day, you know? She refused to bless the marriage and..." You trailed off, noticing the way he was staring at you.

"Wait, hold on—you got engaged to someone you just met that day?" he asked, his face a mix of disbelief and judgement.

You nodded, waving it off like it was no big deal. "Yeah, anyway, I got mad, she got mad, she tried to leave, and I grabbed her glove..."

He blinked and turned fully towards you. "Hang on! You're telling me you got engaged to a guy you just met that day?"

"Yes," you sighed in frustration. "Pay attention. The point is, she always wore gloves, so I figured maybe she has a thing about dirt or something."

San couldn't believe what he was hearing. You'd agreed to marry someone you'd only met that very day? Even if that someone was a prince, at the end of the day, he was just another man. The idea of it baffled him to no end. He couldn't help the surge of protectiveness that welled up in him. Sure, you seemed a little silly and unhinged compared to the girls he'd met, but you were still an innocent young woman—too trusting for your own good. And that could get you in serious trouble.

If judgemental had a face, it was sitting right next to you. "Didn't your parents ever warn you about strangers?"

You paused, the comment sinking in, and shifted uncomfortably, inching away from him. "Yes, they did. But Hans isn't a stranger."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That led to a back-and-forth about how much you really knew the Prince of the Southern Isles. The more you talked, the more San found himself silently shaking his head at your naivety, though he couldn't help but feel a small, growing fondness for you, as crazy as your story was.

Suddenly, he stiffened. "Stop talking."

You scoffed, still mid-argument. "No, no—"

Before you could finish, he slapped a hand over your mouth. "No, I mean it," his voice tense, eyes scanning the dark forest ahead.

⁞

"Wolves?" you asked anxiously, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of your chest. "What do we do?"

"I got this," he said, busy moving around like he knew exactly what he was doing. But your nerves wouldn’t let you sit still. "Just… don't fall off and don't get eaten."

You frowned, stepping up beside him. "But I want to help!"

"No!" he barked, pulling you back.

"Why not?!"

"Because I don't trust your judgement!"

Your jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Who marries a guy she just met?!" he shouted as he pushed you behind him and kicked away a wolf that had nearly pounced on you.

"It's true love!" you yelled back, swinging his guitar wildly. Startling him, but you managed to knock another wolf away. "Woah!"

Slightly impressed, he froze for a second, but in that moment of distraction, a wolf sank its teeth into his jacket, pulling him off the sled. You gasped, screaming, "Santiago!"

He grunted, grabbing onto the sled's rope, and glaring up at you. "It's San!"

"Ow!" he yelped as the wolves bit into his back. Despite barely knowing him, your heart dropped, hoping he wasn't seriously hurt. In a burst of quick thinking, you grabbed a bundle of cloth, lit it on fire, and threw it at the wolves, scaring them off.

As you regained control, you realised the sled was speeding toward the edge of a mountain. Your breath caught in your throat—the only way to make it across was if the reindeer jumped. "Get ready to jump, Sven!"

San shot you a look. "You don't tell him what to do. I do!" He shoved a bag into your arms before tossing you onto Sven's back. As you neared the cliff's edge, he shouted and cut the rope tying the reindeer to the sled. "Jump, Sven!"

After landing dangerously close to the mountain's edge, San's sled lay in ruins below, and he muttered something about just having paid it off. The narrow escape from death weighed heavily on you, especially when you saw him lying on the ground, an arm thrown over his eyes in sheer exhaustion. He was so done.

"I-I'll replace your sled and everything in it," you mumbled, guilt creeping into your voice. "And... I get it if you don't want to help me anymore." With a heavy sigh, you turned and started walking away, your heart sinking. Of course, he wouldn't want to stick around now. You'd caused him nothing but trouble, and he hadn't even volunteered to come with you—it was all your fault.

San groaned in frustration, his reindeer nudging him persistently, nodding toward your retreating, disheartened figure. "Of course, I don't want to help her anymore," he grumbled, sitting up. "This whole mess has cured me of ever helping anyone again."

"She'll die out there on her own," Sven's eyes seemed to say.

"I can live with that," San muttered, though his voice lacked confidence.

"But no new sled if she's dead!" The silent reasoning gnawed at him.

He slumped, casting an irritated glare at Sven. "Sometimes, I really don't like you." But as he heard you stumbling and fumbling your way through the snow, likely still trying to reach your sister, he rolled his eyes in dramatic defeat before shouting, "Hold up! We're coming!"

You turned around, your face lighting up before playing it off coolly. "You are? I mean... sure, you can tag along."

He chuckled, shaking his head, though he couldn't quite hide the smile tugging at his lips. Maybe, just maybe, he found you... kind of adorable. In fact, you were probably the most adorable person he'd ever met, if he were being honest. Not that you needed to know that. Hans was a lucky guy... maybe.

⁞

As the journey dragged on, San found himself increasingly drawn to you in ways he hadn't anticipated. He had written you off as reckless, even naïve. But the more time he spent by your side, the more he found himself softening.

It began with the small things—your silly jokes, the way you smiled at him even in the direst of situations, and the surprising concern you showed for his struggling ice business, despite the weight of your own problems. A part of him tried to deny it, chalking up his protectiveness to simply being a decent person. Yet, as the days went on, the truth became harder to ignore, especially as you started to weaken.

The first time he truly noticed was when you faltered, clutching your chest as the icy curse gripped you. His heart clenched painfully at the sight of you, pale and fragile in a way that scared him. At first, he didn't understand what was happening—until he saw the streaks of white creeping into your hair. His stomach twisted in fear as he watched you shiver uncontrollably.

San tried to fight it at first, keeping his feelings hidden behind casual smiles and forced reassurances. He'd wrap you in his cloak, telling himself that he was just looking out for you like anyone else would. But inside, he was terrified. Each time you winced or stumbled, the protective instinct inside him flared, and it became harder to ignore. He wanted to hold you, to keep you safe, but he told himself that keeping his distance was for the best.

Until it wasn't.

After watching you grow weaker, he couldn't stand it any longer. You were so cold, so frail, barely able to keep yourself upright. Your hair had turned almost entirely white, and the violent shivering never stopped. When you could no longer walk on your own, San didn't care anymore. He scooped you into his arms without hesitation, cradling your fragile body against his chest. Your icy fingers clung weakly to his sleeve, barely able to hold on.

Perhaps the trolls had been right. Maybe what you needed was true love's kiss. The thought sent a wave of fear through him, not because he doubted it, but because he wanted it to be him. Holding you close, trembling as he tried to keep you warm, he swallowed hard, fighting back the lump in his throat.

"We've got to get you back to Hans," he whispered, though the name felt like a sharp blade twisting in his chest.

"A-are you g-gonna be okay?" you asked, voice weak and trembling as you struggled to stay conscious. Your eyes fluttered open, full of worry, and San's heart ached even more.

He forced a smile, though the pain in his chest was undeniable. "Don't worry about me," he said, though the crack in his voice betrayed him. He couldn't tell you the truth—that the very thought of giving you to Hans was tearing him apart.

⁞

As he left the castle gates, his arms now empty without your fragile form, the weight of his feelings bore down on him, suffocating. Even Sven could sense it. His reindeer nudged him softly, as if to say, you can't let her go.

San clenched his jaw, shaking his head at the reindeer's knowing gaze. "No, Sven! We're not going back! She's with her true love."

But none of that mattered the moment he noticed the fierce snowstorm suddenly engulfing Arendelle. His eyes widened with panic as he realised something was terribly wrong. Without a second thought, he sprinted back toward the castle, his heart racing, your name ripping from his throat as he shouted through the howling winds.

Snow and ice whipped through the air, blinding San as he fought against the wind, desperately searching for you. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat louder than the roar of the storm. Then, through the blizzard, he saw you—a frail figure swaying weakly amidst the violent storm.

His breath hitched, a strangled cry escaping him as he realised how dire your condition was. Your hair was completely white, and your skin had started to turn into a translucent blue, as if turning to ice. Panic surged through him, and without hesitation, he dashed toward you, every muscle in his body straining against the storm.

You took tiny, shaky steps towards him, your voice barely audible above the howling wind. "San..." The way you uttered his name sent a jolt through him, a painful reminder of just how close he was to losing you. He pushed himself harder, the distance between you seeming to stretch endlessly.

"Hold on!" he shouted, though he wasn't sure if you could hear him over the storm. He could see the effort it took for you to move, each step a struggle against the encroaching ice.

Just when he thought he might finally reach you, you changed direction abruptly. His heart stopped as he watched you rush towards your sister, trying to protect her from Hans. The realisation hit him like a thunderclap: in your attempt to shield your sister, you were sacrificing yourself.

He watched in horror as you turned completely into ice, your form crystallising before his eyes. The storm seemed to quiet for a moment, a heavy silence descending as you stood there, frozen.

Desperation clawed at him, and he fought through the storm to reach you. When you returned to your normal state, he was already there, cradling you in his arms. He refused to be a coward again, not after everything you had been through. The fear of losing you was unbearable, and he was determined not to let go.

Holding you close, he buried his face in your hair, breathing in your warmth, feeling your heartbeat against his chest. "I'm not letting you go," he whispered fiercely, his voice breaking with emotion. "Not now, not ever. If you'll let me, I'll hold you close forever."

His heart ached as he clung to you, the world around him fading into insignificance. The storm may have raged on, but in that moment, all that mattered was you.

Mingi ↠ Flynn Rider (Tangled)

• Charm • Wit • Adventurous •

"Is this… hair?" Mingi croaked in confusion as his eyes fluttered open to the unexpected realisation that he was tied up. The last thing he remembered was climbing up a tower hidden in the forest to escape from the royal guards and the Stabbington brothers.

"Struggling…" came a feminine voice from somewhere in the shadows. "Struggling is pointless."

He furrowed his brows. "Huh?"

"I know why you're here, and I'm not afraid of you," you said, gripping your frying pan tightly as you slowly emerged from your corner and finally stepped into the light.

Oh me, oh my. What do we have here?

The intruder looked genuinely confused as he took a moment to register your appearance. You were a sight to behold, that much was undeniable, but you were also threatening him with a kitchen tool, and truthfully, he wasn't very into that.

"Who are you and how did you find me?" you asked, glaring at him.

But man, were you beautiful.

"Uh huh…" was all he could muster.

Frustrated, you repeated yourself, raising your weapon higher. "Who are you and how did you find me?"

Clearing his throat, he began his rehearsed speech for situations like this. He had yet to meet any lady who wouldn't fall for his charms. As much as he would love to hang around, he had more important things to do. "I know not who you are nor how I came to find you, but may I just say…" He looked down momentarily, then met your gaze again with a rather... questionable expression. "Hi. How you doin'? The name's Flynn Rider. How's your day goin', huh?"

To his surprise, your hostility persisted. "Who else knows my location?" you demanded, aiming the pan at him.

Man, how did the smoulder not work?

⁞

Mingi let out a long sigh, staring ahead in exasperation as you ran circles around him with boundless enthusiasm. Lord, how did he get himself into this? He was stuck in this ridiculous situation because he needed the crown he had just stolen from the palace. The deal was simple: he would take you to see the lanterns and bring you back.

But he had no time for that.

Determined to avoid the whole ordeal, he hatched a foolproof plan. He would take you to the Snuggly Duckling, a tavern with a motley crew of thugs and ruffians. Surely that would scare you off.

As you twirled around, he muttered under his breath, "This is going to work. It has to work."

You paused mid-spin. "Did you say something?"

"Nothing!" he replied, forcing a smile. "Just… thinking about how much fun we're going to have."

He let out a sigh of relief as the Snuggly Duckling came into view. He couldn't help but grin at the look of horror that flashed across your face when you saw the rowdy tavern. This was going perfectly.

"You don't look so good, blondie. Maybe we should get you home, call it a day. This is a five-star joint, after all. If you can't handle this place, maybe you should be back in your tower," he said, trying to sound sympathetic while suppressing a smirk.

Just as he thought his plan was working, Mingi cursed under his breath as the main door slammed shut, and a burly man pressed a "Wanted" poster of him against it.

"Is this you?" the man growled, squinting at the poster.

Crap, crap, crap. This is not good.

The thief's eyes widened in dread as he moved the man's finger off the painting of his nose. His heart sank even further. They had gotten his nose wrong... again.

"Now they're just being mean," he muttered to himself, more upset about the artistic injustice than the actual danger he was in.

⁞

The last thing Mingi expected happened. As the thugs closed in, you suddenly began to sing a silly little song about having a dream. At first, he stared at you in disbelief, but then something miraculous happened. The roughest and toughest of the bunch started to join in, swayed by your infectious innocence and charm.

A reluctant smile soon spread across his face. As impractical as it seemed, your innocence had saved you both. "I can't believe that worked," he muttered, watching the formerly hostile crowd now swaying together harmoniously.

But the relief was short-lived.

The doors burst open, and royal guards flooded the tavern. "There he is!" one of the guards shouted.

"Time to go!" He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards a hidden exit. The chase led you to a dangerous cave, the sound of the guards echoing behind you.

The thief's adventurous spirit shone brightly as he led you through perilous situations, always thinking on his feet and embracing the thrill. He expertly navigated the cave, his confidence never wavering even as the path grew treacherous.

But things took a dire turn when the cave began to collapse. Rocks tumbled down, trapping you both under the debris. Water started to fill the cave, and panic set in. Despite his fear, he remained focused. He pulled you out of the water when you dipped back under, refusing to let you drown.

"Hey, there's no point. It's pitch-black down there," he said, gently moving some hair out of your face, his eyes filled with a rare vulnerability.

You felt a pang of guilt as you saw the hopelessness in his expression. "This is all my fault," you whimpered. "Mother was right. I never should have done this. I'm so sorry, Flynn," you cried.

He sighed, gazing at you sobbing pitifully before whispering, "Mingi."

"What?" you turned to look at him, confused.

"My real name is Song Mingi. Someone might as well know."

You smiled softly through your tears. "I have magical hair that glows when I sing."

His eyes widened in exasperation. "What?"

⁞

Just as he thought he couldn't possibly be more amazed, his admiration and affection for you only grew. He watched in awe as you healed his injury with your glowing hair, the pain ebbing away under your touch. Listening to your story, he saw the depth of your courage and determination, traits he deeply admired.

For the first time in his life, Mingi felt comfortable enough to open up about himself. He let down all the walls he had built over the years, sharing his dreams, fears, and the loneliness that had always shadowed him. Something had changed since then, and neither of you had been more certain about your feelings for each other than on the night of your birthday.

He had kept his promise and taken you to see the lanterns. As you both floated on the water, surrounded by the magical glow of thousands of lanterns, he realised that seeing you happy meant more to him than the riches he had dreamed about for so long. This moment, this connection, you—mattered more than anything.

The thief realised that none of the money or recognition would ever mean anything if it meant being without you. Perhaps Flynn Rider was so much more than just a witty and adventurous prince; he was also a romantic at heart. This truth became painfully clear as he prepared to sacrifice his own life to free you, the love of his life, from the clutches of your kidnapper.

On the verge of his own death, he made a heartbreaking decision. He would rather cut your hair, stripping it of its magical properties before you could save him, than allow Mother Gothel to use you any further. With a swift motion, he severed your once-blonde hair, watching as it returned to its original colour.

"Mingi!" you cried, watching in despair as the magic faded. You pulled him into your arms, cradling his face. "No, no, no. Mingi," you pleaded desperately. "Look at me. I'm right here. Don't go. Stay with me."

He smiled weakly, his strength fading. He cupped your face with a trembling hand. "You were my new dream."

Your heart shattered as tears streamed down your cheeks. His hand fell limp beside him, his eyes closing as his life slipped away.

"And you were mine," you whispered, your voice breaking as you held him close, the pain of losing him overwhelming.

⁞

But things took a miraculous turn. Your magic, which had always been tied to your hair, still remained in the essence of your tears. As you cried over him, a single tear fell onto his face, glowing brightly before seeping into his skin.

Suddenly, his breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered open. Life returned to him as the magic worked its way through his body. You gasped, pulling him closer, barely able to believe what was happening.

"Mingi!" you exclaimed, joy and relief flooding your heart.

He looked at you, his eyes filled with wonder and gratitude. "You're magic," he whispered, holding you tightly. Without another word, he pressed his lips firmly against yours, pouring all his love and thankfulness into the kiss.

As he held you close, he silently thanked the heavens for granting him a second chance at life. He vowed to start over and be a better person for his princess. At that moment, everything felt right, and he knew that his new life with you would be the greatest adventure of all.

Wooyoung ↠ Aladdin (Aladdin)

• Energetic • Street-smart • Charismatic •

"Hey! You there, stealing from my brother!" the merchant barked through the bustling market as you handed two starving children the bread you had taken.

You blinked, caught off guard. "Stealing? No, I—"

"You either pay, or I take the bracelet," he sneered, his hand reaching for your mother's bracelet clasped around your wrist. "Let go of me!" you cried, struggling in his grip.

Before the situation could escalate, someone swooped in and pulled you free, placing you protectively behind him. "Easy, Jamal," the young man said calmly, trying to diffuse the situation. But the merchant only glared at you. "Kalil turns his back for a moment, and this one," he jabbed a finger toward you, "steals the bread!"

You huffed in frustration. "Those children were starving!"

The young man sighed, turning to you and lowering his voice. "Do you have any money?" You shook your head. He smiled softly, then gripped your bracelet. "Okay, trust me." Something in his gaze made you feel secure, so you did—against all odds, you trusted him.

You watched in disbelief as he removed your bracelet and handed it over to the merchant. "Here, this is what you wanted, right?"

The merchant grinned, satisfied. "Yeah, thank you!"

"And here's an apple, for your troubles," the young man added with a grin, tossing the merchant a fruit before quickly pulling you away, ignoring your protests. "Hey! I'm not leaving without my bracelet!"

He pulled you closer as you hurried through the market. "You mean this bracelet?" he murmured, revealing the very same bracelet in his hand. Instantly, your worry melted. "Come on."

As you both moved, you suddenly heard the merchant shout behind you, "Wooyoung! Jung Wooyoung! Thief!"

You turned, your breath catching. "Are we in trouble?" you asked. He smirked, his confidence unwavering.

"Only if we get caught."

⁞

"I can't believe..." you trailed off, staring at the breathtaking view from his balcony. "I can't believe we actually did that. That I did that. That we made it out alive!" you exclaimed, still reeling from the intense chase that had led you here. You couldn't shake the memory of him holding your hands, guiding you to safety.

"Thank you... for getting me out of there. Wooyoung, right?" you smiled bashfully, and he rubbed the back of his neck, a little shy. "You're welcome..." he gestured toward you, waiting for your name.

You froze for a split second. "I... I'm Dalia," you blurted out, using your handmaid's name as a cover. No one could know your true identity—not even him.

"Dalia... from the palace," he said, his tone more knowing than surprised. You stayed silent, your back to him. How did he— "Only someone from the palace could afford a bracelet like that," he continued. "And that silk? It's imported, comes straight to the palace from the merchant ships. But not for most servants, which means... you're the handmaid to the princess."

You sighed, finally turning to meet his eyes, a small smile on your lips. "Impressive."

"If you think that's impressive, you should see the city from up there," he said, pointing to the second floor of his humble home. You didn't need to be told twice and eagerly headed up. "Agrabah... it's beautiful. I really should get out more."

He chuckled. "You should tell the princess that." Your smile faded slowly. "The people haven't seen her in years."

Your fists clenched slightly. "They won't let her. Ever since... the queen was killed, the sultan's been terrified. She's kept locked away."

He looked down, a touch of sadness in his voice. "Seems like everyone's been living in fear since then. But the people of Agrabah loved her. The queen."

Your heart warmed at his words. "They did, didn't they?"

As the conversation shifted to his past, you were saddened to learn of the hardships he had endured. He sighed deeply. "Every day I hope things will change, but it never seems to. Sometimes, I feel like I'm just..."

"Trapped," you finished for him, your voice soft. "Like you can't escape what you were born into?" He nodded, meeting your gaze. For a moment, you thought you could trust him. But that hope wavered when he struggled to return your bracelet at your departure.

"So you are a thief," you said, your voice tinged with disappointment. "I'm so naive."

⁞

"But Dalia, I was born for more than just marrying some useless prince!" you argued after meeting yet another potential suitor from Skanland that afternoon.

Your handmaid sighed. "If you had to marry a useless prince, you could certainly do worse than this one. He's tall, handsome, and yes, a bit dim, but it's just a marriage. Although, I suspect you'd rather marry that boy from the market," she finished, and you scoffed.

As she went off to prepare your bath, there was a knock at your door. With a frown, you opened it. "Can I help you?" you asked, and the person turned around. Your eyes widened in shock. "You? You! What are you doing here? Get in here!"

Wooyoung smirked. "I came to return your bracelet."

"My bracelet? Where is it?"

"On your wrist," he replied, and you gasped, glancing down to see it securely in place. "Wait, how did you get past the guards?" you asked in disbelief.

He grinned mischievously. "That was tricky, but I have my ways. While the princess is out, how about a stroll? We can chat."

You crossed your arms, half-irritated, half-amused. "You are unbelievable," you muttered, annoyed at his audacity but even more so at how attractive he was. "You can't just break into the palace and act like you own the place!"

"If you don't have anything, you've got to act like you own everything," he shrugged, flashing a grin. You stared at him, realising you'd never met anyone like him—because no one was like him. "So, what do you say?"

"No! You need to leave, now!" you insisted, pushing him toward the door.

"Fine, but I'm coming back tomorrow," he said confidently. "Meet me in the courtyard by the fountain when the moon is above the minaret." He gestured behind him, and before you could react, he removed your hair clip, waving it teasingly. "To return this."

Your breath caught when he leaned closer, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His voice was a whisper. "I promise." Perhaps you were a fool; you should have known better than to believe him.

⁞

The next time you saw him, you barely recognised him, thanks to the Genie's magic. He was now Prince Young of Wonderland—a clumsy prince who seemed to be trying to "buy" you with his riches, or at least that was what he said, as he awkwardly stumbled over his words. His first impression was far from impressive, and despite his best efforts, nothing he did seemed to win you over.

After countless failed attempts, he finally realised what he needed to do: just be himself. "There's a whole world beyond these books and maps. You should see it."

"How? Every door is guarded," you replied, a bit wistful.

"Who said anything about a door? Sometimes, princess, you just have to take a risk," he said with a grin before climbing over your balcony and leaping off. You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth, heart in your throat. "What just happened?"

Moments later, he reappeared on a floating carpet. You sighed in relief. "Is this…?"

"A magic carpet? Yes," he smirked, offering his hand. "Do you trust me?" Your heart skipped a beat as those words echoed something familiar. "What did you say?" you croaked. He repeated, his eyes steady on yours. "Do you trust me?"

You hesitated before nodding and placing your hand in his. "Yes."

As the carpet soared over a village, you watched the people below celebrating around a fire. You smiled as the prince draped his coat around your shoulders. "Of all the places you've shown me, this is the most beautiful."

"Sometimes, you just have to see it from a different perspective," he replied. You shook your head gently. "No, it's them—the people. They make it beautiful. And they deserve a leader who understands that. I don't know why I think it could be me."

He turned to you, his expression sincere. "Because it should be you."

"Do you really think so?" you asked softly. He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and for a moment, you froze. Only one other person had done that before—

"Does it matter what I think?" he asked, breaking the spell.

By the end of the night, you learned he was who you had suspected all along, though you were now convinced he had been a prince from the start. Wooyoung, caught up in the joy of the moment, kissed you goodnight, only to later drown in constant guilt and worry that the lie he was still hiding could ruin everything.

⁞

But none of that mattered when you discovered it had all been a lie. Even caught up in the battle against Jafar, Wooyoung was still the one you trusted most. And you knew you were right to trust him because, despite the difficult situation, he chose to return to your side and protect you. His actions proved his genuine care for you.

Your feelings for him deepened when he made his third and final wish. Instead of using it to abolish the law that required the princess to marry royalty, he selflessly used it to free the Genie.

"You shall be the next sultan," your father said. "As sultan, you can change the law." He gestured to where Wooyoung had stood moments earlier, but now he was gone. Your heart sank, and your father gently nudged you. "Go after him before it's too late."

And you did just that.

Breathless, you found him only a few steps outside the palace, your hair clip still in his hands. "Stop, thief! Your sultan commands it!" you called after him, your tone teasing.

He turned, biting his lip and holding up the clip. "Sultan? Does that mean I'm in trouble?"

Your heart fluttered at those familiar words. With a smile, you approached him. "Only because you got caught," you whispered before kissing him. The crowd around you erupted in cheers as he pulled you close, returning your kiss with equal passion. At that moment, he realised his wish had come true after all.

Jongho ↠ Prince Eric (Little Mermaid)

• Kind-hearted • Brave • Dependable •

"Max! Come here, boy," the man on board called out to his dog, who had momentarily been distracted by your presence near the side of the ship. Your eyes widened as you took in his striking features—he was human. You'd never seen one this closely before.

Carefully staying hidden, you continued to watch as an elderly man stepped forward to quiet the crew. "Silence, silence. It is now my honour and privilege to present our esteemed Prince Jongho with a very special, very expensive, and very large birthday present," he announced, gesturing toward a massive object draped in cloth at the center of the ship.

"Ah, Grimsby, you old beanpole, you shouldn't have," said the handsome man, whose name you now know to be Jongho and that he was... a prince.

The old man smiled bashfully. "I know. Happy birthday, Jongho." With that, the cloth was pulled away to reveal a heroic statue of the prince. Instead of reacting as Grimsby had likely hoped, the prince grimaced slightly. "Uh, gee, Grim..." he cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's, uh... really something..."

"Yes, I commissioned it myself. I had hoped it would be a wedding gift." Grimsby's tone was hopeful, but Jongho just chuckled. "Come on, Grim. Don't start. You're not still upset that I didn't fall for the Princess of Glowerhaven, are you?"

"Oh my, it's not just me. The entire kingdom wants to see you happily settled down with the right girl."

Jongho smiled, leaning against the railing. "Well, she's out there somewhere. I just... haven't found her yet. But trust me, Grim, when I do, I'll know. It'll hit me, like lightning—no question about it."

Your heart fluttered as you listened from just below. You'd never felt this way about any merman, but you wanted to be that girl for him. He seemed so near, yet impossibly far at the same time.

⁞

Perhaps he shouldn't have said those words—maybe he jinxed it. What started as a cheerful celebration turned into chaos within seconds, as lightning struck and set the ship ablaze.

You watched anxiously from the sidelines, praying he'd be alright. But your heart sank when you saw him dive back into the ocean from a lifeboat, only to return to the ship to save his dog. Though he managed to rescue the pet, he put himself in grave danger, trapped as the ship exploded. Gasping, you swam toward him, just in time to see him weakly cling to a plank before slipping into the water.

Without hesitation, you dove in, gripping his larger frame and fighting through the waves to bring him to the surface. With sheer determination, you swam to shore, finally laying him on the sand as the sun began to rise.

"Thank goodness, he's still breathing. He's... beautiful," you whispered, gently brushing his wet hair and caressing his cheek. As you sang softly, a familiar tune you'd often hum when dreaming of life on land and now... of him, you saw his eyes flutter open. He smiled at you, placing his hand over yours.

Before you could say a word, you heard Grimsby's voice echo along the beach. In a flash, you were gone before Jongho could fully grasp what had happened.

"Jongho! Oh, Jongho! You really enjoy testing my poor heart, don't you?" the old man grumbled, helping him up.

"A girl... she saved me. She was singing... with the most beautiful voice," the prince murmured dreamily, his eyes still scanning the horizon. Grimsby chuckled. "Ah, Jongho, I believe you've swallowed a bit too much seawater."

You watched from afar, your heart aching as they walked away. Did he feel the same way you did? Was this... love? Because you missed him already.

⁞

Humming the melody that had lingered in his mind ever since you rescued him, Jongho was interrupted by the sudden arrival of his dog. Max sprinted across the sandy beach, barking and leaping excitedly at his owner. "What's up, boy?"

The dog darted forward, and without hesitation, he chased after him. You gasped when Max ran up to you, quickly scooting back onto a rock to keep your distance from the unfamiliar animal.

"Max? What's gotten into you?" the prince's voice called out as he appeared, just in time to see his dog circling you. His breath caught when his eyes landed on you. "Oh... I see."

"Are you alright, miss?" he asked softly, stepping closer. "I'm sorry if this troublemaker scared you. He's harmless, I swear..." His voice trailed off as he looked from his dog to meet your eyes. "You look... familiar. Have we met before?"

You nodded immediately, a beaming smile lighting up your face.

"It's you, isn't it? The one I've been searching for," he murmured, gently taking your hands in his. "What's your name?"

But when you opened your mouth to speak, no sound came out. That's when it hit you—you had given your voice to Ursula in exchange for legs, and now had only three days for Jongho to kiss you with true love's kiss, or else you'd belong to the sea witch for an eternity.

"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned. You pointed to your throat, shaking your head. "You can't speak? Oh..." His expression fell. "Then you can't be the girl I thought..."

Frustrated, you frantically waved your hands, trying to show him that you were the one. In your desperate movements, you lost your balance and stumbled forward—right into his strong arms.

"Woah, careful!" he said, holding you close to steady you.

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze as the two of you stood still, his arms wrapped securely around your waist while your hands clung to his shoulders. He gazed into your eyes, his expression softening. "You've been through something, haven't you? Don't worry—I'll help you."

⁞

Despite finding your quirks a bit odd, Jongho couldn't help but be charmed by your playful nature. On top of that, you were easily one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. He had noticed it when he first met you, but after the maids had cleaned you up and dressed you like a princess, he could barely tear his eyes away. For a moment, he even forgot about the girl he had been searching for, now looking forward to spending the next day showing you around town.

Time flew by, and your second day on land seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. You wandered through the streets together, hands intertwined, sharing meals, dancing, and laughing. Each moment felt magical, filled with heart-fluttering closeness that made it feel like the two of you were already a couple. It was the best day of your life, a world apart from anything you'd ever known. It would've been perfect—if only he would just kiss you.

But there was still time, and you held on to hope. That evening, he took you on a romantic boat ride, and it felt like the moment was finally about to happen. He leaned in a few times, but each time, he hesitated, as if reminding himself you weren’t the one he thought he was looking for. Your heart sank with every pause. Still, after learning your name and feeling a deeper connection, he came so close...

Close enough for Ursula to interfere.

That night, he stood outside, looking melancholy as he hummed the same song that had haunted him since he was rescued. "Jongho, if I may," Grimsby said gently, approaching him. "Sometimes, the best match isn't a dream girl, but someone of flesh and blood—someone warm, caring, and right before your eyes," he suggested, gesturing toward your room, where you were absentmindedly brushing your hair with a fork once again.

Jongho chuckled softly, shaking his head at your antics. Perhaps Grimsby was right. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you weren't the girl he had been searching for... after all, you made him happy. But before he could think further, a woman named Vanessa appeared, casting him under a spell that blinded him to everything—especially you.

⁞

Wiping away your tears, you knew you had to find a way to get to him. Your heart was shattered when you heard he was marrying another woman, but deep down, you should have known something was off. Of course, it was the sea witch and her wicked schemes.

Thankfully, Max, the loyal dog, seemed just as frustrated with Vanessa as you were. He aggressively tugged at her dress, refusing to leave her alone. In the chaos, her seashell necklace—the one that held your voice—fell to the ground and shattered. At last, the spell was broken, and you could speak again. The moment Jongho heard your voice, recognition filled his eyes. "You're the one. It was you... all along."

You nodded, your voice trembling with emotion. "Yes, Jongho. I've been trying to tell you."

"No! Stay away from her!" Vanessa screamed, but the prince ignored her, pulling you close and leaning in to kiss you. Before he could, you gasped, falling to the ground as your legs transformed back into a tail. Ursula's wicked laughter echoed as she returned to her true form, slithering towards you and grabbing hold. "So long, lover boy," she hissed.

His heart nearly stopped as he watched the witch drag you into the depths of the sea. But he wasn't about to lose you again. This time, he would fight with everything he had to save you.

And he did. The battle was fierce and exhausting, but he remained determined. Jongho cleverly commandeered a ship and steered it straight into Ursula, risking everything to put an end to her reign of terror.

Even in his exhaustion, he didn't rest until he found you. This time, you had legs—real, permanent ones—granted by your father after seeing the love you shared. And when he finally reached you, he pulled you close, refusing to let go. "I'm sorry I made you wait so long, but I'm yours now if you'll have me."

I'm aware the format for each story is kinda inconsistent HAHA but that's because this has been in the works for a while now, and the time taken to finish these one by one was long enough for me to develop a new style for nearly every story when I get to them.

Not sure if this was any good. While proofreading, I realised there's a chance this might not make much sense for readers who have not watched these movies. But y'all, let me know your thoughts! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |

@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |

@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot @vic0921 @vnessalau @apriecotte |

@bangtannie7 @vtyb23 @khjoongie98 @scuzmunkie @anxiousskylar |

@bunny4yungi

444 notes · View notes

darlingdaisyfarm · 3 days

Text

Tourist trap (Stan Pines x fem!reader)

minors dni

Stan is very fond of tourists who believe his stories.

tags: nsfw, smut, p in v, fingering, riding, desk sex, semi-public, praise, sir kink, rough sex

You shifted nervously from one foot to the other, wide-eyed and excited, as you clutched your little Mystery Shack brochure in your hand. It was all crumpled from being folded and unfolded too many times, but you couldn’t stop reading all the incredible things advertised on it.

"See the world-famous Sasquatch Skull up close! Touch the Alien Artifacts nobody else believes in!"

You believed it all. Every last word. After all, you’re such a lover of the unknown.

Your group of tourists shuffles around you, mostly adults who looks really unimpressed, grumbling about the entrance fee. You’re the only one whose eyes are wide with excitement and who literally trembles from excitement to see everything the Shack have to offer. And that’s exactly what catches his eye.

Stan Pines stands in the doorway, leaning on his cane, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. You don’t notice how his eyes scans over you, how he takes in every little detail: the innocent excitement, the way you’re practically throwing your money at the gift shop already and that naive, gullible glow about you. You practically skip forward, not noticing how Stan’s eyes linger on you. He can tell right away — you aren’t just any tourist. No, you’re special. Too trustful. Sweet. The kind that believe every ridiculous thing he’d ever put on display.

And isn’t that just. . . adorable?

The tour starts and you trail behind him eagerly, eyes wide and shining as he tells stories about the various "creatures" and "relics" in the Shack. Part of you is convinced that every word is true, that you’re standing in the presence of real magic, real mystery.

Stan notices you hanging on his every word and it makes something stir in him. The way your lips parts just a little, these little “wow” and “ohh” you make, the way your eyes follow his every move. Meanwhile other tourists roll their eyes or sigh, bored out of their minds, but not you. You’re his favorite kind of visitor — the kind that made his job fun

"So," Stan starts, turning to you with a glint in his eye as the rest of the group wanders off, "what do you think of this, doll? Pretty impressive, huh?"

You nod enthusiastically, clutching your bag of over-priced trinkets and souvenirs. "It’s amazing, sir! i can’t believe im seeing all this in real life! i mean, is the Sasquatch skull really real? And the alien artifacts, are they, like, actually from space?!"

"Well, aren’t you just the cutest little tourist I’ve ever seen,” he smiles, leaning slightly towards you and letting out a chuckle “most people come in here and they laugh it off. Say it’s all fake, but not you. You really believe in this, don’t you?”

“Yeah! ive always dreamed of visiting such a cool place! thank you, sir, it’ll remain a good memory,” you giggle.

“Ohh, sweetheart, if you’re such a fan, maybe i can show you some of the mysteries we keep hidden from the average tourists.” he absolutely loves how wide-eyed and trusting you are. You really believe every word he tells you?

Your eyes light up, completely oblivious to the hungry look in his eyes. "Really? You’d do that?"

Stan rubs his chin, pretending to think it over, though the grin never left his face. “Hmm,” he looks at you for a couple more seconds before he tells you you. “for you, dear? Anything.”

He leads you away from the main part of the Shack, down a hallway lined with dusty old portraits and broken light fixtures. You don’t even notice how quiet it is now as the rest of the tour group far behind. All you can think about was the excitement bubbling inside you, the thrill of seeing something “exclusive.”

Stan opens a creaky door at the end of the hall and motions for you to step inside. You eagerly obey, stepping into a dimly lit room filled with more strange objects, things that weren’t part of the normal tour. At least, that’s what Stan told you.

He closes the door behind him with a soft click, the two of you now alone and you never really noticed how close he suddenly got, his hand resting on your lower back as he guides you further into the room, its cluttered with strange artifacts, most of which hadn’t made it to the main display.

You’re buzzing with excitement as you look around at the dusty shelves. "Wow!" you gasped, wide-eyed. “What’s that? and that?! oh my gosh, is that a real shrunken head?!”

Stan chuckles, settling himself down in an old chair near desk before patting his lap. “Why don’t you come here, doll? I’ll give you a closer look.” there was something in his voice. . . something that should alert you, but you’re too caught up in your excitement to notice it.

Without a second thought, you plop yourself down on his lap, leaning forward to inspect the nearest artifact, still firing off a barrage of questions. "What’s this one? and where did you get it? oh god, is it really cursed?!"

Stan grunts, adjusting you a bit closer as his hands settled on your hips. He leans forward slightly, his mouth near your ear as he begins to explain some ridiculous story about the origins of the objects. But you barely notice how his fingers start to slip lower, just lightly brushing along the hem of your skirt.

You keep talking, completely oblivious, your words spilling out in an excited rush. “This is so cool! i can’t believe no one else gets to see this! i-“ your voice hitches as Stan’s hand slides further up your thigh, his thick fingers grazing the edge of your panties.

He continues talking as if nothing happens. “This here is an ancient artifact from South America. Supposedly cursed, but, eh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” he pauses, his hand gently pressing against the softness of your thigh as he keeps you pinned on his lap.

Your breath caught in your throat, but you tried to focus on his words, nodding as you squirmed a little. “W-wow, that’s- that’s so cool!” your voice breathy as Stan’s fingers brushes lightly along the edge of your panties, teasing you.

“Yeah, real cool, huh?” he asks you, still as if nothing happened, his other hand sliding up your waist to grip your side, so you wouldn’t move that much. His fingers dip lower, grazing the fabric of your panties before slipping just beneath it. “aaand this one here,” he continues, “it’s said to have belonged to an ancient tribe. Powerful stuff.”

You can barely process what he’s saying, your mind blank as his fingers lightly tease along your slit, collecting the wetness that was beginning to pool there. You shift in his lap, trying to stifle the soft whimper that escape your lips, your legs pressing together.

“Something wrong, doll?” he asks in a playful, no, mocking tone, while his fingers now lightly caressing your clit. “You seem a little distracted. Thought you wanted to hear about all these mysteries*.”

“I- I do!” you stutter. “It’s just- s-sir!”

“Just what?” Stan interrupts, his fingers now slipping lower, pressing firmly against your entrance. His other hand grips your waist, holding you firmly in place as you instinctively try to buck your hips against his hand.

You whine softly, barely able to form a coherent sentence. "I-I just. . . oh god-“

Stan smirks. “You’re so cute, sweetheart,” he nuzzles your neck, his fingers now teasing your entrance, pushing just the tip of one finger inside your throbbing cunt. “asking all these questions while sitting in my lap like a good little girl.”

You sob, your hips rocking against his hand without even realizing it. You can feel his cock, hard and pulsing beneath you, pressing against your ass, but Stan keeps his focus on you, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your wetness, never stopping his stories.

“This one is said to have special. . . powers. Like it can make someone go crazy with just one touch.” he chuckles, his finger curling inside you, hitting that spot that made you gasp and clench around him.

Your head spinning, your body aching with need, completely at his mercy as he tease and play with you, all while still pretending like it was just another tour.

Stan’s smirk widens as he feels you trembling in his lap, the way you quietly moan, your face and body both hot. He keeps his voice steady, still saying some ridiculous story about the artifacts, but his fingers never stops their teasing.

“So, this piece here was said to be used in rituals. Uhh, something about unlocking a person’s deepest desires, makin’ ’em lose all sense of control.” its not difficult for him to imagine these false stories, he is an experienced lier after all. You try to listen, try to understand what he’s saying, but that’s just impossible to do as he presses his thumb harder against your needy bud, his fingers sliding through your slick folds. You whimper, barely able to focus on his words. Your body burning, every nerve ending tingling as his rough fingers stroke and tease your throbbing pussy. Your hips rock against his hand, desperate for more, but you’re too shy, too embarrassed to ask for it.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? you were askin’ so many questions before, now you’re all quiet?” his thumb circles your clit a little bit faster and your body jolts from pleasure, a soft cry escaping your lips before you could stop it.

“I’m just-“ you stammer, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you squirm in his lap. “I c-can’t, sir, can’t think”

He chuckles, now pushing two thick fingers deep inside your tight, clenching cunt. You gasp and your back arch against him as he starts to pump them slowly, curling and scissoring his fingers just right, hitting that spot inside you that made your whole body tremble. What a lovely sounds you’re making.

“Aww you poor thing, so lost, huh? cant even think straight, can ya?”

You whimper, biting your lip as you try to stifle the noises that are spilling out of you, but it’s useless. Your hips are moving on their own, grinding against his hand as you clung to his shirt, “sir” and “please” leaving your mouth as his fingers stretch you so well.

“Just relax, doll, I’ll take care of you. Just listen to me.” his fingers pumped harder inside your pulsing pussy. “you wanted a tour, right?”

You nodded weakly, not even listening him, unable to focus on anything but the way his fingers were fucking into you, the wet sounds of your dripping pussy filling the small room. His thick digits stretch you open just good, making you lose your mind.

“So this here,” he continued, his voice still calm despite the way you were practically writhing in his lap, “was used by an ancient tribe. Supposedly, they thought it could help them communicate with the gods, but I think it’s more useful for somethin’ else. . . don’t you, sweetheart?”

You could only sob in response, your body trembling as his fingers drove deeper, stretching your tight walls, his thumb never leaving your poor sensitive clit, your muscles clenching around his fingers as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re such a good girl,” he praises as he watches you squirm in his lap, your wetness coating his fingers. “so cute, all worked up like this. You gonna cum for me, doll?” you nod , your hips bucking against his hand, his fingers thrusting deeper inside your aching cunt. Stan laughs at that pathetic sight, his fingers moving faster now, fucking you hard and deep, your pussy clenching around his digits. “Go on, princess, cum on my fingers.” you exhale when Stan finally let you finish. With a strangled cry, your body shakes, your cunt clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you. Your eyes rolled and brain fucking melted as you shudder in his lap.

Stan grinned, watching you with a satisfied smirk. “Good girl, such a good little doll for me.”

His hand rests on your breast, first slowly and gently caressing it. His fingers find your nipple and give it a light squeeze, drawing another sound from you. Stan smirks to himself as he feels you shaking in his lap, your body responding to every little touch he gave you. His fingers still buried deep inside you, moving at a slow, teasing pace that had you on edge, desperate for more. You can barely sit still, squirming against him, your breath coming out in soft, shallow gasps.

His fingers curling inside you again, and you whimper, your hips jerking in response. “You want somethin’, don’t you? you gotta tell me what you need, doll.”

Your mind foggy, every nerve in your body on fire as his fingers keep working you over, drawing soft, desperate noises from your parted lips. You could barely think straight, let alone put together a proper sentence. “pl-please, sir”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your struggle. “Please what, sweetheart? you gotta use your words if you want somethin’ from me.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep yourself together, but it’s damn impossible with the way his big fingers thrusting inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. You can feel the heat building inside you again, that desperate, aching need, but of something bigger than just his fingers. You need to be filled, to have your brains fucked out. “I need more. . .”

“More, baby? you want my fingers to go faster? is that what you mean?”

You shake your head frantically, your whole body aching for something else. “No, I need- need your cock, sir-“

He raise his eyebrows in a fake surprise. “Oh, is that what you’ve been tryin’ to say this whole time? you’re beggin’ for it now, huh? pretty little thing, all desperate for me to fuck you?”

You whimper softly, your hips moving on their own, trying to push down on his hand for more friction, more pressure, but he holds you still, keeping you right where he wanted you. “Please, sir,” you whisper and nearly cry because of horrible emptiness you’re feeling. “please just fuck me, sir, i need you!”

“You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous today, sweetheart,” he tells you, his hand finally pulling away from your dripping slit. “don’t say i never gave you nothin’.”

Before you can even process whats happening, Stan shifts you in his lap, his strong hands lifting your hips and positioning you right above his length. You can feel his cock, already hard and throbbing beneath you, pressing up against your soaked entrance, and your whole body tense, your breath catching in your throat.

Stan’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he lines himself up with your glistening cunt, spreading your folds. “You ready for it, doll?” he asks. “this what you’ve been beggin’ for?”

You nod quickly, fuck enough of questions, you thought. “Yes,” you whisper. “yes yes yes, ple-“ but before you can even finish, he slowly pushes inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. You immediately gasp at the new sensation, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as your body adjusts to the sudden fullness. Oh god, it’s thick, so hard, filling you completely and you can feel every inch of him throbbing inside you, every vein, it feels so hot.

Stan huffs out, his grip on your hips tightening as he buries himself to the hilt. “Fuck, you’re tight. like you were made for this, doll.”

You whimper softly, holding on him, your body trembling as you try to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It’s almost too much, the way he stretches you so perfectly, the way he fills you completely. You can barely breathe.

Stan gives you a moment to adjust. his cock pulsing inside you. “There we go,” he mutters watching your brows furrowing. “Just like that. . . you’re doin’ so good, babygirl.”

You moan again, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, and you feel him twitch inside you,. “I. . . nhhah, s-sir”

He leans towards you and kisses your forehead, his hands guiding your hips to start moving, slowly at first. “Go on, princess. Ride me, let me see how bad you want it.”

You bite your lip nervously as you’ve never been in this pose before, you slowly start to move, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down onto his cock. It feels incredible, the way his cock stretches you open, hitting all sweet spots inside you. You feel the tension building inside you again, that same desperate, aching need, and you whimper again and again, your hips moving faster as your cunt tightening around him.

Stan’s eyes locks with yours as he guides your movements, kissing your neck. “That’s it, sweetheart, you feel so fuckin’ good, yesss, such a good girl, ridin’ me like that.”

You cry out at his words, what a sweet praise, your body moving on its own now, your hips grinding down against him, taking him deeper with each thrust. You can barely think, barely breathe, the pleasure overwhelming your senses, your mind clouded, you can’t even maintain the eye contact.

Stan’s hands moves to your waist, holding you steady as he starts thrusting up into you, meeting your movements with deep, powerful thrusts. You whine, your hands gripping onto his shoulders for support as he fucks you, your mouth hangs open while he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust, he holds you so tightly, squeezing your body while you ride him.

You gasp. “I- I’m gonna-“

“Go ahead, doll, cum for me, let me feel it.”

Your body tensed, your walls clenching around his cock as your orgasm hits you hard. Your body shaking, trembling in his lap as you cumming, rambling pleas leave your mouth when you feel the tip of his cock rubbing sweetly against your cervix. Stan groans, his grip on your waist tightening as he thrusts up into you harder, deeper, drawing out your pleasure as long as he can. “That’s it, such a good girl, baby. . . so fuckin’ tight.”

You fall on his chest, still shaking, your mind still spinning from the intensity of it all. You can feel him still throbbing inside you, still hard, and you whimper softly, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, he’s clearly not planning on pulling out.

After you manage to get your breathing back to normal at least a little you feel his hands still all over you, roughly dragging you up and laying you out on the old wooden table. Your legs tremble, spread wide as he stares down at you, taking in the sight like you’re his prize, his fucking reward.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” grin crosses his lips as he grabs your thighs, pulling you right to the edge of the table before slamming his cock back inside your pussy, forcing a cry from your throat. Your body jolts at the sudden penetration, and you moan again, legs wrapping around his waist as he starts pounding into you again. Hard. Rough. Fast. There’s not a drop of mercy in his movements, he's not holding back, fucking you like you're just a thing for him to use. Your sweet moans and that pathetic "sl-slow down!" sound like music to his ears.

His hands all over you, squeezing, groping, touching. He grabs your breasts, kneading them, pinching your nipples through your shirt so hard you whimper, arching your back off the table. He groans at that, leaning in close, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, “Fuck, you feel heavenly, baby, can’t get enough of this sweet little cunt.”

His fingers finds your clit, rubbing circles around it, teasing you until you can’t stop the pathetic whines spilling from your lips. He keeps fucking you harder, his hips slamming against yours, the table creaking under the weight of it all. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mixed with your gasps, your moans, your begs and his grunts as he’s pounding into you like he was starving for it.

“Look at you,” he looks down at your flushed, wrecked body, his hands gripping your waist tight enough to bruise. “Such a fucking good girl for me, huh? letting me use this pretty little pussy however I want.”

You can’t really form words, can’t do anything but take it. Your so brain fucked, body burning, you’re so close you can’t think straight. He’s rough, fast, his fingers rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, pushing you higher, higher, until you can’t hold back anymore. You cum hard, again, your pussy squeezing his cock well.

But Stan doesn’t stop. He just keeps going, fucking you right through it, ruining your pussy, even harder now, his hips snaps into you, faster, rougher, and you can feel the slick mess between your thighs, the obscene sound of it only making it filthier. You're choking on your moans.

“Ugh, gonna cum inside you, doll,” he groans. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, you want that? you want me to fucking fill you up?”

You nod frantically, too far gone to care about anything else, and with one last, hard thrust, he buries himself so deep, his cock pulsing as he finishes inside you. You feel how warm it is, his cum filling you up, spilling out of you as he keeps thrusting, riding out his high.

Finally, he slows down, pulling out with a groan, and you collapse back on the table, spent, utterly wrecked. Youre literally shaking, panting, his cum dripping out of your used pussy onto the wood below. Stan stands there, catching his breath, looking down at you and all that dirty mess, what a beautiful sight: your legs trembling, your body marked with his touch and his cum leaking from between your thighs.

He leans over. “you know, guess I'll give you a discount for that pretty face of yours.”

#stan pines smut #gravity falls smut #gravity falls x you #gravity falls x reader #x reader #Smut #stan pines x reader #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines #stanley pines x you #gravity falls #stan pines x you

303 notes · View notes

bunnys-kisses · 3 days

Note

Your writing is so good! I hope this request is okay.

Could I please order some chocolate cake and shortbread squares please with some juice for Carlos sainz. Maybe friendly rivals. :))))

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! there's tons of things to order from it! i really enjoy making these and i love what ya'll have prompted me! so thank you! and for this lovely anon i hope that you love this story!

chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + shortbread squares ("you're just mad that that my cock fits perfectly in you now. must be a blow to the ego that we're a perfect match.") + juice (cockwarming) served by carlos sainz jr (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, cockwarming, (friendly) rivals, driver's room sex, semi-public sex, secret relationship, a lot of kissing

"you drive me crazy, mi amor." carlos said as he started to unzip his driving suit, your hands were on him in return. your lips were dangerously close together.

"please." you replied, "i don't think this is the hottest you've ran." you leaned in to seal the deal as he got the driving suit off of his shoulders. his lips tasted like heaven, he even used the lip balm that you suggested.

you and carlos were like thunder and lightning on the track. he had the speed while you had the power. and together you made quite the storm. some would call you rivals, but when it was the two of you alone in the driver's room long after everyone went home, you were more like lovers.

it was late into the evening, most had gone home. and you two were supposed to be in your respected motor homes for the night. but george and charles were doing you both favors while you two had some alone time in carlos' driver's room.

"i think he went out to dinner." charles shrugged when an assistant asked where carlos went.

and george's excuse was the tried and true method, "you know how she always walks for miles when she's on the phone with your mother." followed by a laugh. you owed both of these men so much.

the door to the driver's room was locked and you slowly got out of your driving clothes and could feel carlos' gaze on your body. you knew he loved the site of you, your curves that you had. you could easily drive him wild.

"don't look like a dog, sainz. have a little respect."

he shifted in his seat on the couch and palmed through his briefs. he licked his lips. he leaned a little bit and asked, "do you see that? that's what happens when i think about you all day."

you watched him get his cock out of his briefs and relaxed further against the couch. his smile hung and you felt a stutter in your heart. you hated how he could read you inside out and backwards. damn, sainz. but yet you were enticed to come closer and eventually got onto his lap. the both of you near naked, at least your bottom halves were.

you even got yourself out of the printed socks you wore today. you were still in your sports bra while he was shirtless. you looked into his dark eyes and smiled at him, "see what happens when i think about you all day?" then smiled.

carlos palmed our breasts and pressed his face between them. he looked up at you with those doe eyes that could put deer to shame. he replied, "i can hear your heartbeat."

you combed your fingers through his hair as you rubbed your bare pussy against his cock. you swallowed, "i thought about you all day." you held his face and looked down at him, "i have to be honest. you make racing fun, my red rider." then with a little help you sank down onto his cock. your toes curled.

"shit."

"fuck."

"come here." you said as you pulled him in for anther heated kiss. you didn't ride him. due to the hour of the day (or rather night), you two could go slower. you could cockwarm him while your lips got familiar with his. you held his face once more and he wrapped his arms around you tightly. he gazed up at you almost with love and you smiled before you kissed once more.

you hated to admit it but, you liked cockwarming him. and if you could've been in the motor home together tonight without having to worry about being too loud for your teammates, you would've happily had the comfort of a shared bed.

at least there was the off-season. you had, without the prying eyes of the press, moved some of your belongings to his home. it was a spare lip gloss here, your spare retainer, there were a few more mercedes shirts in the closet. even a stuffed animal that carlos got you after you won your second gran prix (winning twice meant it wasn't a fluke).

"you feel good against me." he said with a smile.

"oh shut up, sainz." you arched your back a little bit as his cock nudged against one of your sweet spots and it made you feel hot all over.

he chuckled, warmth in his voice as he said, "you're just mad that that my cock fits perfectly in you now. must be a blow to the ego that we're a perfect match."

you looked down at him and held onto his face a little tighter, "oh, i've seen your cock compared to some of the others. i think that maybe danny or max will suit me just fine." you moved your hips a little and watched carlos melt a little, "if i want something that doesn't bruise my cervix, maybe your teammate charles will a work.. or maybe my own teammate."

carlos made a face, "you better not be running off into george's arms. if you know what's good for you." then shuddered when you started to move a little more. he groaned against you. he knew that you'd have to cockwarm him again and sometime soon.

you two kissed while you continued to move against him. he held onto you tightly while you rode his cock. the kisses became messier the more you moved against him. it was hot and left a fire in your gut.

you both didn't last long, carlos' dirty words in your mouth as you rode him on the couch. he said to you, "next time. next time i'm keeping you on me all night. sleep together like that. i want to wake up and feel you." he said as he groped your breasts. you could feel your heartbeat in your chest as you reached your climax.

your toes curled once more as you panted heavily. you pulled him into another hot kiss. you whimpered into the kiss while he held onto you, meeting you staggered pace. he groaned into the kiss as he finished inside of you.

you both slowed down and you rested against him for a moment as you tried to catch your breath. he kissed the side of your head with love. you held onto his shoulders and composed yourself.

"next time, sainz." you said as you patted his chest, "we're doing this all night. and it'll be after i beat you on the track." that rival streak was coming out of you as you gazed at him.

he chuckled and looked at you, "sure, mi amor. now why don't we get dressed before someone tries to find us. our lie can't work forever." then kissed up your chest.

"yeah, george and charles have done enough for us tonight." you knew you'd get an earful from your teammate, but at that moment when you watched carlos redress. it was worth it. <3

378 notes · View notes

deliasmilkshake · 2 days

Text

☀️FNAF DCA x Y/N Fic Recs🌑

All of them are DCA x Reader Fanfics. NSFW fics will have a 🔞sign (I tend to like those that have plot and/or have fluff <3)

Inspired by: Pillowspaces' DCA Fic Recs.

Each I've read and made me fall for Sun&Moon all over again.

If you see your fic, you can ask for it to be removed if not comfortable with it being here.

PLEASE check each fics tags before reading them.

Last updated: 23/Sept/2024 [Gave Naff's two mer fics a doodle]

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦······················•✦•······················•✦

☀️Solar Lunacy by BamSara (AO3 account required)

Same body!Sun/Moon/Eclipse x Staff!Reader

~~ [Designs by: @bamsara]

You weren't a technician, you weren't a security guard, you weren't a daycare assistant. You're just an employee. Staff. The ‘jack-of-all-trades’ employee with mediocre at best skills and specialty in none, tasked with doing miscellaneous jobs that robots couldn't do and human staff couldn't care to. The job is unpredictable, but it pays good and it's relatively easy.

Except for the part where all the animatronics are more sentient than you thought, and you're roped into a mystery surrounding the Daycare Attendants, who are bit too curious about you for your liking.

You don't think this was in your employee contact.

| Words: 225,814 | Chapters: 16/?

🌑Love, Death and Rollerskates by Spadillelicious

Rollerskater!Sun, Janitor!Moon, Metalstar!Eclipse x Staff!Reader

~~ [Designs by: @spadillelicious]

After moving to Crescent City in the 80s, you pick up a job at the local roller rink Party Planet. Ironic, considering roller skating is definitely not one of your talents.

On the bright side, you get to work with the friendly Sun. On the other hand, you also have to interact with the gruff janitor and security guard Moon on a daily basis.

But when staying after hours one day, despite being strictly instructed not to, you find out a terrible secret that changes everything you knew about Sun, Moon and Crescent City forever.

| Words: 98,091 | Chapters: 18/?

☀️Celestial Sundown by clutterspace

God!Sun, God!Moon, God!Eclipse x Human!Reader

~~ [Designs by: @pillowspace]

There was something slumped beneath a tree, and you had no idea what it was. The sunlight shone brighter where it laid, despite the leaves above not differing from any of the other foliage.

It was such a small thing to notice in comparison to everything else, but it brought a small hysterical giggle out past the lump in your throat as it finally clicked in place what you were seeing.

It was a god.

You are a peasant living in the middle of the woods, Sun is the god of day you brought back home with you, and Moon is the god of night tucked away in the Celestial Realm.

| Words: 83,805 | Chapters: 7/?

🌑Celestial Omens by BamSara

Siren!Sun, Siren!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [Designs by: @bamsara]

When you are ten years old, you find two creatures, bloodied and injured, trapped a net on the beach near your home. You save them, make friends with them, and return them to the sea, leaving you to wonder later if your friends with the Sun colored scales and fins that shone like the full Moon were real or imagined up by a childhood of loneliess.

Time passes. You hear stories of monsters, Sirens in the water, one that is a good omen if spotted, promising your safe voyage as long as you respect the rules of the ocean, and one that sinks ships and eats people for fun. Just folktales meant to scare children.

A decade later, they return the favor, though they don't plan on leaving you so easily this time.

| Words: 36,318 | Chapters: 3/?

🔞The Pizzaplex Nighttime Mechanic by crickyluv

Same body!Sun/Moon, Glitch!Eclipse x Mechanic!Reader

~~ [Sun Design by: @crickyluv, Yn,Moon&Eclipse: Me & @crickyluv]

You finally got the job as the nighttime mechanic at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex! Unfortunately, you get a double shift. At least you get to spend time fixing the animatronic you knew best: Sun!

This is a slow burn that eventually turns into NSFW. There is a TON to get to before the spice comes.

| Words: 213,892 | Chapters: 47/?

☀️In Deep Dreams Between the Waves by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Mermaid!Eclipse x Human!Reader

~~ [Designs by: Me & @naffeclipse]

You see a fish, but the fish isn’t really a fish, because he looks up at you with big yellow eyes, wide with fright. Large black pupils dart around frantically. He’s small, less than half your size, which surprises you. You know mers are supposed to be big sea monsters that sink boats or cause storms, but you don’t see a monster. You think of a baby while staring at his chubby round face, creased with fear, and his small tail.

| Words: 55,644 | Chapters: 5/5

🌑Song Fish Amid the Stars by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Mermaid!Sun, Mermaid!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [Designs by: Me & @naffeclipse]

This is a type of sequel to In Deep Dreams Between the Waves.

A pang hits your heart, going out to the little fish struggling to escape the cruel and entrapping lagoon.

But they look like mers. Sea monsters.

| Words: 69,362 | Chapters: 6/6

☀️Sleuth Jesters by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Detective!Sun, Detective!Moon, MafiaBoss!Eclipse x Vigilante!Reader

~~ [Yn,Sun&Moon Designs by: @sunnys-aesthetic, Eclipse: Me & @naffeclipse ]

“If I may, Detectives, I believe that the score is set at a tie on how many times you’ve both let me slip away under your watch.” You grin at the sun and moon like faces of your opponents in this game of cat and mouse. The narrow slice of Detective Moon’s gaze becomes threatening, where Detective Sun curls and uncurls his fingers in anticipation of whatever scheme you’re concocting.

| Words: 174,134 | Chapters: 15/15

🌑Pisces Caelestis by S_V

Mermaid!Sun, Mermaid!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [Designs by: @sortvaniliekrans]

Underneath the glowing eyes, a great maw opened to hiss at you, baring several rows of needle-like fangs, wicked looking and sharp and also glowing in the blacklight. As the thing hissed, the cries started up again, more frantic this time, and accompanied by- it almost sounded like scratching?

And it was coming from behind you.

The bleeding creature had never been the one wailing.

| Words: 76,588 | Chapters: 13/?

🔞Demon support by Megafacts

Demon!Sun x Demon!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [Designs by: @megafactuals & Me]

You decide to try and summon a demon to destroy the world as a big bang to end all of humanity. Then earn the lavish life you wanted when you went to hell.

Instead you get two small demons who say they can satisfy your very desire, except the desire you called them for.

Bull. Shit.

| Words: 10,801 Chapters: 2/?

☀️Cryptid Sightings by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Cryptid&Animatronic!Sun/Moon x CryptidHunter!Y/N

Perhaps this would scare a person, being all alone in the woods in the dark, but not you. You’re too intertwined with the paranormal and inexplicable. It’s in your blood. That doesn’t mean your heart won’t pound with terror when you face something with fangs and hungry eyes for flesh, but you don’t run away, and that’s what matters most.

~~ [Designs by: Me & @naffeclipse]

You will face the monsters.

| Words: 253,823 | Chapters: 21/21

🌑Apex Polarity by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

SirenOrca!Eclipse x Photographer!Y/N

~~ [Designs by: Me & @naffeclipse]

n the Arctic, all is beautiful and cold and lethal. You tread over ice and underneath, a dark, powerful siren stalks you. Though you try to resist, you succumb to the lure of the mer and his decision to have you.

How do you survive an apex predator?

| Words: 125,998 | Chapters: 12/12

🔞Love for the endangered by Megafacts

Seahorse!Sun x Seahorse!Moon x Researcher!Y/N

~~ [Designs by: @megafactuals & Me]

You worked as a researchers for endangered species at a sanctuary.

One day, two of the newly discovered seahorse merfolk species come into the sanctuary after being caught in a net left in the ocean. Instead of releasing them back to the wild, the upper ranks at the sanctuary decide to use them for a breeding program.

Over the next few months you must decide to help your new friends escape or force them to spend their first mating cycle trapped inside of the sanctuary.

| Words: 28,299 | Chapters: 2/2

If you have any fic you wish to recommend me, please do!

Though that will not guarantee it entering this list.

#fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf dca x y/n #fnaf dca x reader #dca x yn #dca x reader #sun x reader #moon x reader

342 notes · View notes

deerspherestudios · 3 days

Note

Hi there! I just wanted to let you know that I love your games! Mushroom Oasis especially has an especially place in my heart. Mychael is such an interesting character and one of my favorite types of yanderes—not violent towards his object of affection but still manipulative and willing to cross lines even if he feels guilty about it. Thank you so much for the work you have done; it’s obvious this game is a labor of love and I am looking forward to see how the story progresses.

In the meantime, I have to ask, do you think there might be a future option where the player can cook for Mychael? Totally okay if that is a little too specific. Cooking is just a love of mine and I love to cook for people I love and I feel that is something that Mychael would appreciate.

Also—and forgive me if you have answered this already—but I was curious to see where Mychael’s affection lands on the scale you created by the end of day 3. Or would there be more than one answer since it seems actions taken on this day might start to split between the platonic and romantic routes.

Thank you again for your time and for creating this wonderful game. Your art is so lovely and you have a real knack for fun character design.

HELLO!! Thank you so much for the kind words!! For me personally I've never been a fan of "if I can't have you no one can <3" type yanderes so knowing that it's a shared sentiment means a lot!!

I actually have something of an idea where MC does something nice for Mychael for a change in Day 4!

It was closer to buying a gift and the players can choose what they'd get for him but adding a cooking/baking option (or a more diverse set of gifts rather than just shopping for it) seems like a good idea! As usual the script is still cooking so we'll see!

As for the charts, they're answered here and explained here!

Also,,, idk if you'll ever read the addition below but I'm holding back on gushing rn because uh, this is for you personally but it's basically an appreciation post for being one of my fave authors <3!!!:

AAAA A A 11 !! ??

I'm gonna try and articulate myself in the best way I can but I have been a FAN of your writing since??? Gosh, 2015??? I was following your blog back when the pfp was a torchic (and a treecko i think??) and the header was Swiggity swiff Gotta Yiff ?? Idk if you're comfortable with people knowing of your writing but let me know if I should edit anything here!!!

I LOVED your writing so much it was silly and witty but you can do drama and heart and spicy just as well it was a major inspiration!!! I genuinely though it was a little goof when I saw you were following my blog the other day and THEN YOU SEND ME AN ASK??? IM, , , THROUGH THE ROOF, I would mention my fav fics of yours by name but I'd be outing myself but the scope is huge <3

I've been thinking of how to respond to this all DAY and decided to just be honest but but just know I love what you do <3 Admittedly idk if you still write these days but either way I hope you're doing well!!!! <3

#mushroom oasis vn #mychael ask #jar of fireflies #IM IN THE JAR RN /J #this genuinely made my day im so serious ty for being you <3 #flashbacks to a younger me reading my first few yn fics.... from the rockin the muffin...#me being embarassing under the read me LOOK AWAY EVERYONE LOOK AWAY!!!#light spoilers #bts

205 notes · View notes

sunlit-mess · 2 days

Note

That person who'd asked if Alastor was your favorite or Lucifer, did you answer the question? Like I'm stupid- If you did then I haven't figured it out yet- Could you say it in words please 🥺 Alastor Or Lucifer

:3 Favorite of both... But in these sense:

- Down bad for Alastor. I'd eat him cannibalistically.

- Relates to Lucifer 100%

Merchandise and whatever physical collectables/stuff speaking... I'm in an Alastor simp competition and my competitor is Vox.

#messyr #yea i did and it's being a big luci kinnie while an alastor simp #im normal about alastor im normal about him im– guys i think I like alastor ( is obsessed )#while fav luci bc hes very relatable! so many things i can do w this character under self projection and it still fits his story/personality #both characters are fun to explore at too. so i cant just choose one ::')

116 notes · View notes

melodiesinmotion-if · 3 days

Text

demo - character bios - pinterest - spotify

“God, I fucking hate musicians. Get me off this tour bus."

Assholes with massive egos? Check.

Tension between the band members? Check.

Various narcotics stuffed inside multiple suitcases? Check.

A contract that says you have to keep your hands off the talent? Check.

Just remember this is all for YOUR big break, not theirs. Go on tour with the band, write the biography, collect the check, and make a name for yourself. Simple.

‘Melodies In Motion’ is a wip, dramatic and romantic, interactive fiction that tells the story of you, a music journalist, joining ‘St. Skeleton’ on their upcoming tour in order to write their first biography. It is rated 18+ for sexual content, drug use, hot people being extremely questionable, so and so on.

Build your own MC. Play as male, female, non-binary, or trans; straight, gay, or bisexual. Customize your appearance and shape your personality.

Make choices that have meaning while building fun stats.

Romance 1 (of 5) characters or unlock the secret, friends-with-benefits route with a completely different character.

Conduct interviews with St. Skeleton and write your first book.

Help fix the tense relationships in St. Skeleton or make them worse if you think that'll help your book sales.

Fuck a rock star? Take scandalous photos with the band’s personal photographer? Fight a stalker? Do drugs off a drum kit? The world is truly your oyster, honey.

↳ Violet l She/Her l 31 l St. Skeleton's Lead Singer

Violet is arguably the most famous alternative singer in the spotlight right now. On stage, she's known for her smooth vocals, killer high notes, and charismatic personality. Off stage, she's known for her impulsive personality and a publicist that works harder than god.

↳ Jett l He/Him l 29 l St. Skeleton's Lead Guitarist

Jett is known among the fans for his insane guitar solos and being in a bit of a daze constantly. Among the members, he's known for his short temper, endless supply of sarcastic comments, and the whisky bottle that rarely leaves his hand.

↳ Jagger l He/Him l 29 l St. Skeleton's Bassist

As with most bassists, Jagger is a bit overlooked by the fans, but he doesn't mind. To be honest, he doesn't give a fuck about St. Skeleton. He's only here to keep an eye on his twin brother, Jett, and make sure their family secrets remain just that.

↳ Mikki l Gender Selectable l 30 l St. Skeleton's Drummer

Mikki has a small, but very dedicated fan base. They're often labeled as the backbone of the band. It was never about being rich and famous for them; they just wanted to play music. It's all they know how to do anyway.

↳ Ryder l He/Him l 33 l St. Skeleton's Tour Photographer

Ryder is known among the band for his easy-going personality and ability to make everyone feel seen, with or without his camera. But if he's taking care of everyone else, who's taking care of him?

↳ Star/Dallas l Gender Selectable l 27 l Violet's Assistant l Secret Route

↳ Aspen l They/Them l 31 l St. Skeleton's Second Guitarist

↳ Valen l She/Her l 37 l Tour Manager

↳ Stevie l She/Her l 25 l Your Assistant

↳ Mia l She/Her l 30 l Aspen's Wife

#interactive fiction wip #choicescript wip #music if #romance if #upcoming if #wip into

207 notes · View notes

loudclan-clangen · 18 hours

Note

Fish in a birdcage for Rosehip amd Dodwood tho

YES

Bee is not one of the rogues himself, but two of his sons are! Also one of Butterfly's sons, and two of Coal's sons that he had after Fiercestripe left. They aren't really important to the story so they don't get names or anything, but I think that it makes everything a little bit more tragic that Fierce is fighting her nephews who she would have loved to watch grow up and might recognize her from when they were young.

2. Kingfur and Sockeyepelt would both be pretty devastated if Chumtail dies, she's similar to Dashpaw in that she's kinda the mediator between her two more polarized siblings. Really everyone who's up on the chopping block is the most stable of their family, meaning everyone is going to be very NORMAL after this, I'm sure. Also thank you!

3. Yes! There will be stickers of the mediator kids (especially now that you've asked). I'm drawing sketches based on what people have requested, and I'll make a post letting everyone know when they go up. Currently I have Weed, Siltsplash, the Mediator Kids, and some couple stickers in the works.

There were many factors in Fiercestripe's decision. 1. Thorn was 4 moons old by the time Fiercestripe left, so she was well past carrying size (especially with Fiercestripe being a small cat). Even if Wildfirecry could carry her, or she walked on her own, it would slow their pace significantly and require them to take more breaks, leading to the farm cats likely catching them. 2. If Fiercestripe had taken Thorn then the farm cats would have more justification to track them down and forcefully bring them back. It's one thing for a she-cat to leave, it's another for a she-cat to take her mate's kit with her. (part of why the farm cats have made it to loudclan now is because they're chasing a pregnant she-cat). 3. Wildfirecry hadn't agreed for Fiercestripe to come with him. He was a stranger who had stayed a couple nights with the farm cats and was just as likely to turn her away or harm her as he was to allow her to come with him. He would have been a lot less likely to agree to travel with her if she came with the responsibility of a kitten. 4. Wildfirecry and Fiercestripe did not have an easy journey. They didn't have a destination or a set path, they just wandered from place to place for years until they were convinced to join Loudclan. It's pretty likely that had Thorn been brought with them she would have frozen, starved, drowned or been eaten by a predator given that Wildfirecry was the only one with any hunting or fighting skill, and kittens aren't as tough as grown cats. All in all, bringing Thorn along wasn't really an option. Fiercestripe's only choices were leave Thorn or stay with the farm cats and hope that another outsider came along later when Thorn was grown. (Thorn's story is a bit different, Frost and Spider were outsiders who joined the farm cats later in life, so Frost knew how to hunt and fight, thus allowing them to wait for their kits to grow before they left.)

I designed them on my own! I find pretend genetics very fun and it gives me a chance to think more in depth about the rough backstories I have for these characters and how their childhood would have affected the way that we see them act in the story.

#loudclanasks #loudclan #clangen #line art and flat color are finished for Moon 29 Part 2!

154 notes · View notes

narryffdreaming · 3 days

Text

lia and harry's story (two)

summary: harry is a bartender and lia lives right across the street. rating: +18 || warnings: mental health (anxiety) and smut (here and there) word count: 15,7k

(ONE)

Harry never texted her.

Of course he didn’t. And it wasn’t as if Lia actually expected him to, but then why did he even bother asking for her number in the first place? Why pretend he wanted to talk to her? Why pretend there was the slight chance they would ever interact again?

Lia tightened the grip around her grocery bag and sighed. Her mind was about to explode. It really was. She was too tired, and not even the fact that it was already Friday and the weekend was ahead of her was enough to cheer her up.

There was just too much going on. She couldn’t stop thinking, so she hadn’t been sleeping very well.

After Harry had left her apartment, Lia had locked the door and leaned her back against it. And then she’d closed her eyes and recalled everything that had just happened — from Harry running after her, to him looking one last time over his shoulder and waving one final goodbye before walking down the stairs.

Their interaction had started for the wrong reasons, but it had been too good to be true, and not at all a fantasy of her mind.

Harry standing in her living room had been real. His words, his stare, his smile. The sound of his laughter. The way he had cared about apologizing to her…

It had all been real, it had all actually happened.

And it had stirred a new feeling of excitement in the pit of her stomach. It had made her walk to the kitchen with a massive grin on her face, then giggle to herself while preparing things for the next day.

Then of course, as minutes went by, everything she had just spent weeks promising herself she wouldn’t do anymore, happened all over again.

She wasn’t proud of it. She tried to stop herself, but she couldn’t. No matter how innocent his actions had been, they were enough to fuel her with endless ideas and possibilities of how that night could’ve ended instead. And although she felt terribly embarrassed to admit, for more than one second she’d allowed herself to truly entertain those thoughts.

She imagined a conversation where she had been interesting and fun enough to captivate him. Or to fascinate him, just as much as he had fascinated her. She imagined her acting confident enough to seduce him, confident enough to flirt with him. She imagined Harry reciprocating the feeling. And a moment where, instead of leaving to go back to work, Harry ended up touching her freely and thoroughly. She imagined him hugging her, kissing her. Making her feel everything she so desperately wanted to feel. She so desperately needed to feel.

By the time she was lying in bed in silence and staring through the window, reality had hit her again: inviting Harry inside of her apartment had been a terrible, terrible idea.

She’d just gone from wondering what being around him would look and be like, to actually knowing it. And no matter how great she could be feeling right then and there, at the end of the day it would only complicate things. She knew that. It would only make everything worse.

At the same time, as ashamed as Lia felt of her imagination, the truth is that Harry’s real words weren’t helping her, either — like when he mentioned he owed her a drink, or when he asked for her number.

Those very real words weren’t easy to get rid of. They echoed inside Lia’s mind constantly, ruining all of her attempts of never thinking about him again. They kept her company in the mornings while getting ready for work, then at lunch and in between classes, and also all over the afternoons. They popped up again, randomly, as she jumped off the bus and waved a timid goodbye to the very well-known driver, and again later at night when she took a shower, ordered takeaway and went to bed once again.

During the weekend, because she needed a distraction, once again she’d taken a train back to her parents. And it helped her, mostly because it meant also getting to see her brother and sister-in-law. Something she enjoyed. Something she always thought she should do more often, anyway.

But then it was Monday, and she was back into the real world. Going from her apartment to work. And from work to her apartment.

By Friday, after almost getting no sleep all week and paying no attention to anything but work, she wasn’t only ashamed and embarrassed—she was also sad and frustrated at how lame and uneventful her life was.

She was tired of living inside of her imagination, and angry at only watching others reaching their dreams and happiness. She was mad for not being able to let things go, and she was bored of the way she handled things.

And, above it all, she was longing for someone who could take all her loneliness away.

It was a mix of emotions that she could only express by huffing and grumbling to herself as she stood in front of her building, one hand inside of her stupid gigantic bag while she frowned and blindly searched for her keys.

She had only left the house to go to the grocery store, so why did she even take that thing bag with her? And why was there always so much stuff inside it?

She was so distracted and so madly annoyed at herself and her life, that she didn’t hear the bam when Harry closed the door of his car; nor the beep beep when he pressed the alarm and locked it; nor the pitter-patter when he got closer to her building. She also didn’t notice when he stopped by the first step, nor when he leaned his side against the railing and crossed his arms on his chest, nor when he watched her with an amused smirk on his face.

“Need some help there?”

Lia jumped and turned around, and the gasp that left her mouth was muffled by the crash of her bag hitting the ground, right next to her feet.

“Shit.” Harry ran up the steps in a blink of an eye, then squatted in front of her.

Lia tucked her chin and looked down, letting her arms hang loosely by her sides and watching as he gathered the few objects that had fallen from her bag and threw them back inside.

He was wearing her favorite t-shirt — again. The old tight fabric perfectly outlining the muscles on his back and shoulders as he moved his arms here and there.

His voice was a soft murmur in the back of her ringing ears, and she only noticed he was actually saying something when he placed one elbow on his bent knee and looked up at her with a frown on his face.

“Sorry.” Lia shook her head and took a step back. “W—what?”

“I was just apologizing.” He stood up, pulling her bag along with him by the thick strap. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Lia tightened her fingers around the single grocery bag she was holding, gripping at it as if her sanity depended on that frozen pizza she’d just bought for dinner.

“Right.” She nodded slowly, then licked her chapped lips. “It’s fine, yeah. You didn’t scare me.”

Harry half-snorted, half-scoffed. “I sure did, love. Is everything alright?”

Lia slumped her shoulders, and a lough sigh escaped through her lips and nose. She closed her eyes and scratched her forehead, then told him the exact same lie she’d been telling every single person who’d asked that same question in the last couple days.

“Yeah… Everything’s fine. Long week at work, that’s all.”

Harry hummed, and when she opened her eyes again, she found him leaning his lower back against the railing of her building.

He looked at her curiously, green eyes staring at her as if he could see a different answer written all over her face.

It was unsettling, but also oddly comforting at the same time.

“Haven’t seen you at the bar anymore,” he finally said.

Lia looked around the street, watching the few people walking by.

She didn’t know how to answer him. She didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t even a question, to begin with. He didn’t see her at the bar, because she didn’t go to the bar. Period. It seemed obvious, and boring.

Was there anything else she could say instead? Something that would be more… Interesting?

“Hey.” Harry circled her wrist with one hand, then gently squeezed.

Lia looked back at him, only to be met with the beautiful sight of a closed-mouth smile, a dimple, and wrinkles around his eyes.

“You sure you’re ok?” He let his arm fall back to his side. “You look tired.”

Lia shifted on her feet and looked down, pulling her hair over one shoulder. She used her fingers to brush through her locks and put down some of her untamed strands. Then, as she rubbed under her nose with the side of one finger, she took her occupied hand to pull the hem of her sweater down.

“I look like a mess, I know,” she mumbled, shrugging one shoulder. “I guess… I haven’t been sleeping that much.”

Or at all.

“That sucks.”

The tone of his voice carried his sentiment, and she fed her curiosity by glancing at him. Once again, she met his green, caring and concentrated eyes, and for a moment she was convinced the entire world had stopped just for them.

There was a curl threatening to fall onto his forehead, and a very obvious stubble around his soft mouth — covering his chin, the sides of his face and the mole on the left side of his bottom lip.

The smoothness of his facial hair drew even more attention to his unprompted dimples, and the boyish breeze around him clashed with the intensity pouring out from his broad shoulders, sharped jaw and thick neck.

He stood so unconcerned in front of her, casually leaning against the cold iron that led to the front door of her building and holding the strap of her bag with both hands as it hung in between his parted legs and—

“Oh my God!” Lia gasped. Shit. She straightened her back and took a step closer to him, stretching her arm to clasp her fingers around the strap of her bag. “‘M so sorry. You’ve been holding this and I just… I didn’t… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Shaking her head, Lia pulled one side of the strap towards her chest, expecting Harry to easily let it go.

Harry tugged back, though, yanking her forward and in between his legs.

A yelp left her throat as she stumbled on her feet, her hand flying up along with the grocery bag to hold herself on his chest.

Harry’s free hand landed on her waist, keeping her in place while his other hand remained attached to the strap of her bag, just like hers.

“Just to be clear,” Harry murmured, sinking his fern green eyes into her dark brown ones. “I never said you look like a mess.”

Lia pressed her lips together and breathed out through her nose, then drifted her eyes down and between them.

Her hand was still on his chest, and a tingling swept up through the back of her neck and across her face — she had just shoved a grocery bag into Harry’s chest. A grocery bag, with a frozen pizza in it.

And he didn’t seem at least one bit bothered by it.

“It’s not what I meant, either, y’know,” he added. “When I said you look tired.”

Lia swallowed the nervousness down, ignoring the way her cheeks were burning.

(Or, well, maybe actually trying to ignore the way her entire body was burning.)

“What… Uh… What did you mean, then?”

Harry shrugged, slightly digging his fingers into her waist. The way he held her, so firmly and yet so casually, made her heart skip a couple of beats. It was hard to pay attention to what was happening whilst also being hyper-aware of everything she was feeling, and an overwhelming emotion she couldn’t name spread all over her chest.

“Just that I can tell you’re not doing ok.”

Oh.

Lia frowned.

Was that…

Was that supposed to make her feel better?

Harry let her waist go and reached for her hand, covering her hold around her bag. “May I?”

She answered by loosening the grip on the strap, and his response was just as instant — he slid his fingers under her palm and held her firmly, meanwhile lowered the item to the floor with his other hand and slowly dropped it between his feet.

“I can also tell you could use a good night of sleep… Or maybe two,” he added. He took his new free fingers to his chest, removing the grocery bag from her other hand and putting it on the floor, too. “Probably could use some loosening up. Have some fun. Laugh a little.”

“Right,” she whispered, if only to stop him from listing everything that was wrong with her life. Or everything that could be better. Or everything that was missing. “That…” She cleared her throat. “Was that supposed to make me feel better? Because… I mean… None of that sounds good, y’know?”

Harry’s lips twitched up.

“Yes, I know…” He nodded. He took his hand up to her face, brushing her skin while putting her hair away and locking it behind her ear. “Sorry. Promise it’s coming from a place of worry, though. That’s all.”

Her chest tightened, and her stomach swirled.

“I—I mean…” Lia licked her lips. “No need to worry. I’ll be fine. It’s nothing.”

“Hmm…” He let his arm fall on his lap, but his other hand kept holding hers, thumb moving in circles and gently brushing her skin. “Is there anything I can do? I’m here if you need any help.”

Lia furrowed her brows. “Like what?”

“I don’t know…” Harry shrugged. “Whatever you need. Or want.”

An awkward laugh left Lia’s mouth, and she shook her head.

If Harry knew what was keeping her awake at night, he wouldn’t be offering that.

“It’s fine. Thank you.”

“Ok,” he murmured. “What about tonight, then? Any plans?”

“Well… I just bought myself a frozen pizza, so…”

“Hmmm.” Harry smiled. “Yummy…”

Lia bit her lip. The low and teasing tone of his voice made her skin tingle.

“And what about after dinner?”

“What—What about it?”

“Any chance you’ll come over to the bar? I still owe you a drink, remember?”

She brushed the tips of her fingers on his t-shirt, drawing random patterns before slowly pulling her arm away from him.

“I... I don’t think so. Sorry. I just... I’m really tired, and I don’t think being around too many people will help… It’s just… I don’t know… I guess… A lot of information? If that makes sense? Sorry, I don’t know how to explain it and—"

“Hey,” he called, squeezing her hand. “I get it. Makes perfect sense.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. Of course. The bar can get really loud and crowded… Not fun at all if all you want is to relax.”

“Yeah…” Lia blinked. Again and again. “That’s… Yeah. Thank you.”

He tilted his head. “Why are you thanking me?”

“I don’t know… For understanding? I guess? Not a lot of people do that.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s ‘cause people suck.”

Lia snorted, and chuckled. She dropped her head, covering her mouth while her shoulders moved up and down.

Hopefully, even though he was standing extremely close to her, Harry wouldn’t see the way her entire face scrunched up when she laughed. It wasn’t a very pretty sight to see.

“Lia?”

She cleared her throat, shaking her head twice before taking a deep breath in and lifting up her chin.

“Yeah?”

Their eyes found each other, and Lia immediately froze.

Harry wasn’t laughing, and he wasn’t smiling. But he wasn’t mad, either. He held her stare with an inquisitive look, and it was so intense that it made her gulp down, unsettled by the hint of something flashing through them—something she was afraid to name, but wasn’t so hard to guess.

“I’m glad you called me an asshole.”

She raised her eyebrows, and her voice was barely a whisper when she asked, “You are?”

“Mhm.” Harry nodded. “I really am.”

“W—why?”

He slid his tongue between his lips, getting them wet. They glistened under the sunset shades that surrounded them, and Lia stared at their slow movements as he spoke. “It brought us here, didn’t it?”

Shutting her mouth, Lia blinked blankly at him.

“I mean, of course I wish I hadn’t made you feel like that in the first place, but still… I’m glad you called me out for it.”

“Yeah I don’t… Usually do that, y’know? That’s why I freaked out and… Why I was so embarrassed about it. I guess I’m just… I’m just not brave enough to speak up. I don’t know.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll respectfully disagree with that. You seem a lot braver than most people I know.”

Lia looked down, not able to hold back a smile.

“I think…” she murmured. “I think I should go. It’s getting late.”

“Is it? Huh… Could stay here for hours.”

Heat flushed up her neck, then spread all over her face.

“Don’t you have to work tonight?”

“Oh, ooook then.” Harry laughed and stood up, straightening his body and causing her to stumble backwards. “Gotcha. Message received. I’m leaving now.”

“What? No!” Lia shook her head. “What message? I wasn’t—I just… It’s Friday, so I know it gets busier at the bar and… I wasn’t… Y’know… I didn’t mean… I just—"

“Hey, hey…” Harry squeezed her hand, pulling her to step closer and into him again. “I know. I’m just teasing you, love. It’s fine.”

“Ugh… I really suck at this.”

“You don’t.”

“Of course I do.”

“You don’t, and I mean it. If anything, I think it makes you even more interesting.”

They stared at each other.

Stared at each other.

And stared at each other.

They stared and stared, until the trembling inside Lia’s belly felt too much and she looked away.

Harry cleared his throat.

“Ok… I’ll let you go now, since it’s getting late and you’ve got a frozen pizza to cook…” he teased, happiness lingering in his voice. “But I’ll see you around, tho, right?”

“Y-yeah, sure… I—I’ll see you around.”

Lia nodded, forcing her smile to stay longer even though the idea of saying goodbye to him only brought sadness to her chest.

What the hell was happening?

And how long would it take until she saw him again?

— — — — —

Pam was on the phone with her mom and Jim had just walked in the office when Lia’s phone buzzed on the couch, next to her thigh.

How’s pizza? Keeping you company?

Lia furrowed her brows, checking twice that the texts had been sent by an unknown number. And then her heart skipped a beat, and her hands began to sweat.

The idea of Harry reaching out was just as exciting and joyful as scary and unbelievable. To be fair, she couldn’t imagine who else it could be, but she also was too afraid to just assume. What if someone was pranking her? What if he was pranking her?

Her phone buzzed again.

This is Harry, btw.

“Shit,” Lia murmured.

She sat upright and pulled the blanket off from her lap, then grabbed her phone with her trembling and nervous hands.

It took her at least five minutes to come up with a calm and collected answer.

still in the oven hi harry:)

Heat spread through her cheeks.

She was so lame. So boring.

Why was Harry even texting her?!

Her phone buzzed again.

Hii :) That’s a shame You should’ve found yourself better company

Lia stared at her phone and bit her lip.

The opportunity was there, right in front of her. In a fantasy world, she would’ve pointed out how he should’ve kept her company instead. Or maybe she would have invited him to be that better company.

Both options ran through her mind. Both options tinkled on her fingers. And yet, it was Lia’s world she lived in, so she settled for the safest words to say.

it was the best thing I could find at the grocery store

Opposite from her, he didn’t take a second to reply. As if he didn’t even need to think before he spoke.

Hmmm Maybe next time you should try somewhere else, then

She read his text once, and twice. For a moment, an empty feeling in the pit of the stomach turned into nausea, but then her mind seemed to act on its own. Disconnecting from the rest of her body as it directed her fingers to type again.

I might… do you have any recommendations?

The three dots on Harry’s side of the conversation came up quickly, then they flashed for a while. And then, they disappeared.

Lia swallowed hard, watching the screen for another minute or two just to make sure that no more answers would come through. When they didn’t, her stomach clenched, and the nausea became hard to ignore. So she put her phone away and stared back at the TV, pulling her knees to her chest and pretending to pay attention while she kept checking through the corner of her eyes. Then wincing every time she thought about her last text to him. Or how she never got a reply.

Not then, not ten minutes later, and not even half an hour later.

No matter how much she checked her phone, or how many times she peeked at the screen for a new notification, Harry’s answer was nowhere to be seen.

— — — — —

Half a pizza and three episodes of The Office later, a loud knock on her door had Lia jumping on her seat. She paused the show with a frown, then waited to see if something else would happen.

Maybe she could get away with pretending she wasn’t home. Maybe whoever was on the other side would give up and move on to the next door.

But then…

Another knock. And another one.

And Lia finally got on her feet — because what if something bad had happened? What if someone was hurt?

Another knock on the door.

“Just a second!” she yelled, walking as fast as she could with her slippery purple socks.

She rubbed the tip of her nose and took a deep breath, then turned the key around and stepped aside to reveal…

Harry?

Lia jerked her head back, chin slightly going down while she blinked at the tall figure standing in front of her.

“Good evening, miss,” he said with a thick British accent and overly-polite voice. A proud smirk matched the twinkle in his eyes, and it only got deeper when he raised one hand and showed off a glass. “Did you order a mojito?”

Lia just… Stopped functioning? Or her mind went completely blank. And then, after a moment, her body reacted unconsciously, all at once—her arms fell to her sides, her mouth fell open, and her eyes widened.

Maybe only a second passed until Harry chuckled and spoke again. Or maybe a minute, or maybe an hour. It would be hard to tell, and she wasn’t even paying attention to that. It didn’t really matter.

“Surprised?” he asked.

Lia blinked once. Then twice. Then a couple of more times.

“I…”

Dizzy, she shook her head and closed her mouth, swallowing the awkwardness down and darting her tongue between her lips.

“I mean…” She pulled each side of her cardigan with one hand and crossed her arms on top of her belly, covering the old white loose tank top she had at some point of her life turned into pajamas. “Yes? Y—yes! Of course! What are you doing here?”

Harry shrugged. “I brought you a mojito.”

Lia glanced at Harry’s hand, then at his face, then back at his hand. The glass looked minuscule while wrapped inside his long fingers, but it was there. It was actually there.

“But I don’t… I didn’t …”

She furrowed her brows, and slowly dragged her attention back to his eyes.

What the hell was happening?!

“I know.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I brought you a mojito.”

“Why?”

Harry shrugged.

“Because I wanted to cheer you up.”

“But why?”

Amusement crossed Harry’s face. He tilted his head to the side, and his lips twitched into a smile.

“Sorry,” Lia said. “I just…”

She glanced at the glass in his hand. Green leaves, ice cubes and lime wedges. Her stomach fluttered, and she tightened the grip around her own body.

It truly was a mojito. A mojito.

Out of all the things he could’ve surprised her with, that’s what he had chosen?

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, then slowly released the air out of her body. It was embarrassing to have to do that in front of him, but it was the only way she knew to be effective and get rid of the tension off her shoulders. It was what she did all the time — breathe, sigh, breathe again. Calm down her desperate heart.

“Sorry.” She blinked, then focused back on his green stare. “I just honestly don’t know how to react… I mean… I wasn’t expecting this. At all.”

His face softened, and he shrugged one shoulder.

“No need to react,” Harry said, putting his free hand inside of his pocket and stretching his other arm towards her. “Just take it inside with you. Drink it. Give it to your plants. Flush it away. Whatever you want. I’ll never know.”

Lia chuckled.

She unclasped her arms calmly, lifting one of them to wrap her fingers around the glass. They inevitably brushed Harry’s skin, and her breath sped up, matching her already racing heart.

“Thank you,” she said, holding his stare as she pulled the drink closer to her body. “Of course I’ll drink it.”

He smiled into her eyes, and Lia glanced down to the mojito.

“Did you make it?”

At that, Harry scoffed. “‘Course I did. Why? Should’ve I asked Rohan?”

Lia furrowed her brows.

“What? No.” She shook her head. “That’s not… He never gets it how I like it.”

There was a pause, then a soft chuckle left Harry’s mouth.

“Oh my God.” Lia widened her eyes, then raised her chin to stare back at him. Harry was laughing silently at the floor. “Please don’t tell him I said that.”

“I won’t.”

“I mean, it’s not that I don’t think he’s good… Shit. Not him… The mojitos… I mean… His mojitos are good… It’s just… He’s not… I don’t… He’s—"

“Hey.” Harry placed his hand on her shoulder, and Lia pressed her lips together. He wasn’t laughing anymore, and his eyes soothed her. “I won’t say a word, I promise.”

Lia sighed.

“Thanks.”

Harry let her go, shoving his now-mojito-free hand inside of his other pocket and curling his lips up.

“Hope you’ll like mine, tho.”

“I… I will. Yeah.”

I always do, she wished she could add.

Making sure the words wouldn’t slip out of her mouth, she lifted the glass up to her lips and took a timid sip out of it.

Almost immediately, heat radiated down her throat and through her chest. So she closed her eyes and took a second and longer sip, focusing on properly tasting it this time.

The flavors were all easy to recognize—the mint, the lime, the club soda, and the rum. When she swallowed, she pressed her lips together in a smile, unintentionally humming at the sweetness and freshness.

It was… Delicious. The perfect balance between all ingredients, including the amount of sugar and ice.

Harry cleared his throat, and Lia batted her lashes to focus her sight on him once again.

He watched her with a grin on his face, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” Lia whispered. “Really good. Delicious, actually.”

Harry grinned even wider, and Lia found herself smiling, too.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Of course. Maybe next time you can get some mojitos instead of pizza. I’m sure they’ll enjoy keeping you company.”

Butterflies batted their wings in her belly, and a rush of adrenaline bolted through her veins.

“T—they?”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah… Y’know… The mojitos… Me…”

Lia shuffled on her feet, wiggling her toes inside her purple socks.

“I was going to tell you that earlier, by the way,” he added, saving her from the embarrassment of letting him know she had no idea how to answer that. “But things got crazy at the bar and I had to put my phone down so… Sorry.”

“That’s—That’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” She cleared her throat, then tightened the grip of her fingers around the glass. “Do you… Uh… Do you have to go? Or… Maybe… I don’t know… I mean… Would you… Would you like to come in?”

Harry tilted his head and, just like earlier, his eyes twinkled with something. Something different, though. Playfulness, maybe? Or amusement?

Mischief, perhaps?

Lia wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, it didn’t make her uncomfortable, nor embarrassed.

“Would love to, really. But I gotta go back to work… I’m sure my break ended a while ago.”

“Oh… Y—yeah, right. Of course. Sorry.”

Harry chuckled. “Don’t be. I’d rather stay here with you, to be honest.”

Feeling herself about to smile again, Lia looked down at the drink in her hand and bit her lip.

“Uh… And what… What time do you finish work, then?”

“Tonight?”

“Mhm.”

Harry took a tiny step forward, and Lia held her breath.

“Well… We close the bar at two.”

“Right.”

The last t left her mouth and echoed in the hallway, and Lia watched Harry’s feet get closer and closer as he walked forward, stopping only when he was right in front of her.

He took a hand out of his pocket and lifted his arm, then placed his fingers under her chin and forced her to look up at him again.

The butterflies seemed to abandon her belly and fly all over her body, because every inch and every corner inside her tingled and fluttered.

Harry wasn’t smiling anymore. The playfulness on his face had been replaced by determination, but his eyes were still soft and gentle when staring inside hers.

“Any chance you’ll still be awake by then?”

“M—maybe? I mean, I could be.”

“You could, huh?”

Lia shrugged, then nodded.

The smirk grew easily on his lips.

“You sure? It’s gonna be late… I don’t wanna bother you.”

Lia’s heart pounded inside her chest. So loudly she was afraid even Harry could hear it.

Truthfully speaking, there was absolutely no way Lia would ever stay awake so late just to meet someone.

However this wasn’t just someone, was it? It was Harry.

Harry.

The guy she had been secretly dreaming about for almost a year now.

Would she be able to forgive herself if she didn’t try?

Of course she wouldn’t.

So Lia silently and slightly nodded again.

“Hmm…” He brushed his thumb up and down her jaw. “In that case… How do you feel about watching a movie?”

Lia licked her lips, and swallowed. “Here?”

“Mhmm.”

“After your shift?”

Harry nodded.

“I—Yeah. Okay. I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Will you stay awake for me, then?”

“Mhmm… I’ll… I’ll be awake.”

“Good.” He moved his thumb up and down again, then slid his hand to her neck and held her for a moment before he dropped his arm back to his side. “See you in a couple hours, then.”

— — — — —

At 2:17am, Lia buzzed Harry in.

She waited for him in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed under her chest. Her insides blazed with anticipation, and the sweating of her hands was getting hard to control—and even harder to hide.

Everything was silent. Quiet. Empty. The perfect scenario for her to get lost inside her mind and start doubting every decision she’d ever made leading to that exact moment in time.

Shit.

Lia looked down at her feet and tapped her heel on the floor.

She couldn’t start spiraling. Not right then. Not when she was about to see the guy she had fantasized about for so long. Not when she was about to watch a movie with the guy she had crushed on for so long. Not when she was finally getting attention from the guy she had silently dreamed about for so long.

She couldn’t. She really couldn’t.

And yet…

She should’ve put on something more flattering to see him... Shouldn’t she?

She didn’t want him to notice she had showered, shaved, and changed her underwear just to see him, so she had put on the same outfit he’d had seen earlier—the same gray loose pants and basic white tank top, and even the same beige cardigan and purple socks. Which was also the same outfit she had slept on the night before, and that she was planning to wear to bed again that night.

Shit.

What was wrong with her?

Why couldn’t she have tried a little bit harder?

Desperation sparked and unrolled inside her, but then the sound of Harry’s feet reached her ears, loud and clear — walking up the stairs, a floor or two below. And that was enough to absorb all of her attention. To make her forget all about everything and look up.

Look up and just wait for him.

Wait to see him.

Those minutes it took for him to get to her floor were the worst. And the longest. Harry took his time, climbing step by step. And the anticipation inside Lia’s body seemed to increase a hundred times.

By the time she finally saw him, her heart was racing, and her belly quivering.

Harry looked handsome. Like earlier, and like he always did.

He was wearing all black, though, something she hadn’t noticed earlier, when he’d brought her the mojito. Wasn’t he wearing her favorite t-shirt when they’d met outside?

His curls were messier than before, too. His cheeks were flushed, and there was a glimmer of sweat peeking from the back of his neck.

He seemed tired, and it made sense that he was.

Guilt flared all over her.

Friday nights at the bar were busy. Anyone could imagine that. And Lia not only could have figured that all by herself, but she had also seen it happening right in front of her eyes at least once or twice.

What kind of person made plans at 2am on a Friday?

Or, well, technically, on a Saturday… But still…

Was that even normal?

Was it a thing?

Was she out of her mind?

Harry looked up before reaching the last flight of steps.

As soon as he met her eyes, he curled his lips slightly up.

“Hii,” he murmured.

Lia bit her lip.

Despite everything, there he was. Casually walking under the yellow lights of her hallway, as if that was exactly where he was supposed to be. Stopping by her door with certainty, as if he had been on the exact same spot hundreds of times before. And looking at her with softness and tranquility, as if she was the only cure for his exhaustion.

Lia liked that. She didn’t know what was happening or why, but she liked that.

She liked that a lot.

“Hi,” she murmured back, offering him a soft smile. “Come on in.”

She gestured behind her, determined to offer her couch if only for him to sleep for as long as he needed to.

“Thanks.”

Harry walked past her with a polite smile on his face, stopping by the door to take his shoes off and then moving towards the couch.

Meanwhile, Lia shut the door, turned the key around, and locked them inside.

And then…

Her heart skipped a beat, and her stomach twirled.

It was just the two of them.

Lia and Harry. Harry and Lia. And no one else.

She hugged herself with her cardigan and breathed in, then out. When she turned around, it was just in time to see Harry drop his weight on the middle of her couch.

Thankfully, he didn’t need an invitation to make himself at home. He put the fluffy blanket next to him and scooched backwards, squaring his shoulders against the dark pillows and spreading his legs slightly open. Next, he sighed, dropped his neck, and rested the back of his head on the edge of the couch.

And then, he tilted his chin to the side, and finally faced her.

His strong eye contact captured her, and a shiver ran over her skin.

Harry curled his mouth into another smile.

“So, did you enjoy your mojito?”

Tightening her arms under her chest, Lia looked at her feet and nodded.

“Y—yeah… I… It was really good. Thank you.”

“‘Course. Any—” A yawn got in the way of his answer, and Lia darted her eyes up.

Harry faced the ceiling now. His eyes were shut and his mouth was wide open. His chest went up, up, up. And then he exhaled, loudly, and his chest went back down at the same time he slowly closed his mouth.

Lia pressed her lips together and covered half of her face with one hand, stifling her own yawn.

“Shit.” He chuckled, shaking his head briefly then looking back at her. “Sorry. Long night at the bar.”

She shook her head and dropped her hand on top of her other arm.

“‘S fine. Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I’m feeling kinda guilty, to be honest.”

“Guilty? Why?”

Lia shrugged.

“For making you come here after work? I mean…” She looked at the TV on the wall across from him, and then at her feet. “It’s so late… I get it if you’re tired. I should’ve thought about that."

There was a pause.

A beat.

Maybe two.

Or maybe three.

Or maybe none.

It didn’t matter. The silent air wasn’t heavy around them.

Eventually, she gathered enough courage to lift her head and look at him again. It wasn’t necessarily a surprise to find Harry already staring, but it still made her chest tighten.

So she bit her lip.

And Harry blinked. Several times.

Then, he cleared his throat.

“You know I wanted to come here, right?” he asked. “I thought I was being obvious, but I don’t mind saying it. Like, I was the one who suggested this, so if anything I’m the one who feels like a dickhead for making you stay up so late.”

An amused—yet small—smile grew on Lia’s face.

“I didn’t mind.” She shrugged. “I wanted to wait.”

Harry smiled, too.

“And I wanted to see you. So that’s settled.”

Warmth filled Lia’s chest, and her body tingled. Unable to hold herself from stupidly smiling, she pursed her lips tightly, then bit the insides of her bottom lip. The feeling took over her brain, though, and without any warning, happiness erupted out of her mouth in the form of soft and genuine giggles.

“Sorry,” she said, taking a hand up to her face and covering her lips.

Harry sighed.

“C’mon now,” he said, patting the cushion next to him. “You’re too far away.”

It was hard to contain the butterflies and nerves, but she still found a way to move her legs and shortened the distance between them. She uncrossed her arms to put her hair behind her ears, looking at the floor and being careful to not step on his feet or trip on his ankles as she made her way past his knees.

His head followed her movements along with his eyes, turning from one side to the other.

When she sat next to him and lifted her chin, she glanced directly at his eyes.

Harry was already beaming at her.

“Hi,” he murmured.

Excitement fluttered deep in the pit of her stomach, and Lia smiled.

“Hi,” she murmured back. “I love mojitos.”

Harry chuckled, moving his head and closing his eyes to the ceiling.

Damnit.

Turning slightly to see him better, Lia observed him with adoration. It felt impossible not to. He was captivating. There was something truthfully genuine about him. A simplicity surrounding his eyes, wrinkling his skin in a boyish way. Even tired, and even after a long shift, a glowing energy surrounded him. And it was mesmerizing.

He was mesmerizing.

“You do, yeah,” he said, still smiling, and tilting his head to face her again. “I’ve noticed.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“I… That’s…”

Lia blinked. Actually, she didn’t know what to say, so she furrowed her brows and shut her mouth.

What did he mean by that?

Had he noticed how much she loved mojitos in general, or how much she loved his mojitos?

And what else he had noticed about her?

Had he noticed how deeply into him she was?

How much she stared at him?

How much she daydreamed about him?

“I should’ve asked you on a proper date, y’know?” Harry said. A playful smile grew on his face, and his tone came out teasingly. “Take you out somewhere nice… On normal hours… After at least taking a shower…”

He sounded calm, as if that was the most natural thing he could say to her.

Lia’s chest, on the other hand, kept moving up and down quickly, as if her heart and lungs had completely forgotten how they were supposed to function to keep her alive.

“A—a… A d—date?” she barely managed to ask.

“Well, yeah.” Harry dragged his eyes off hers, only to watch himself raise his arm and reach for a lock of her hair. “A date feels more… I don’t know… Gentleman…ly?”

He chuckled — tiredly, but honestly.

“Is that even a word?” he asked, twirling her hair around his finger. “Anyway…”

He stopped moving, yet didn’t pull his hand away. Meeting her gaze again, uncertainty flashed through his eyes, but soon was covered with the comfort of his smile. “I should have, but… I guess I just didn’t want to wait. So this late night thing just kinda happened, y’know?”

Lia swallowed.

“Y—yeah… I know.”

He placed his hand on her neck, resting four fingers on the side of her throat while his thumb stroked up and down her jaw and cheek.

“You have a beautiful smile, by the way,” Harry suddenly pointed out.

“W—what?”

“I wanted to tell you earlier, but…” He shrugged. “You hide everytime you smile or laugh, and it’s just... I don’t know. It’s beautiful to see you smiling. That’s all.”

Lia’s neck burned, blood rushed through her cheeks, and the cardigan she was wearing turned out to be too much for her now boiling body. Thoughts swirled so quickly that it was hard to catch them. Her mind raced, and it yelled. It yelled so loudly that it became silent, and everything went blank—as if her brain had finally given up on her.

“Sorry,” Harry said, dropping his hand and shaking his head. He shifted on the couch, then. Straightening his back, he turned sideways and fully faced her, then folded the leg that was closest to her body up on the couch and squeezed his ankle underneath his other knee. “Bet you didn’t think I could get this soppy, huh?”

Harry joked and chuckled.

Lia blinked a couple of times. He was trying to lighten up the conversation, she could tell, but there was no way she would just laugh. She didn’t want to.

So she shifted on the couch and mimicked his previous movements, turning around to fully face him and folding her closest leg to him under the other.

And that was all it needed for their legs to touch.

“Thank you.”

A slow smile grew on Harry’s face, causing Lia’s mouth to curl up as well.

He raised his arm and placed it on top and along the backrest, invading not only all of her senses, but also her physical space.

Lia looked down and between them, watching the way their thighs were pressed against each other. Watching the way so many of her dreams were slightly coming true.

That is, until Harry spoke again.

“Let’s talk about Rohan,” he said, and Lia jolted her head up.

She scrunched her face up in confusion, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times before she was able to slowly breathe out one single word: “What?”

“Rohan, from the bar.”

“From the—” Lia shook her head, and the tone of her voice suddenly catched up with her emotions. “Of course I know who Rohan is! But what—You—Why would we even talk about him?!”

Harry shrugged, a playful and amused smirk crossing his face. “Because you two seem close… Have fun together…”

Lia gasped, her mouth falling open as one incredulous and single laugh bursted out from her chest.

“We barely— We just talk!”

Harry nodded. “I know.”

“So?” Lia scoffed discreetly, the sound getting caught on her throat. “That’s hardly having fun.”

“Hmm… Well, I don’t know. I just thought something would’ve happened between you two by now. That’s all.”

Lia flinched her chin back, eyebrows raising while she batted her eyelashes in disbelief.

“That’s—Again, what?!”

Harry shrugged, his expression getting serious as he looked away from her.

“He’s clearly into you,” he said. “You know that, c’mon. Thought you fancied him, too. That’s all.” Another shrug, and then, “Don’t you?”

“Oh my…” Lia whispered.

She furrowed her brows and dropped her chin down, once again looking at their thighs.

“I can’t believe this. Why… Why would you think that? That’s so… I mean, where did you get that stupid idea from? And why would you even bring it up right now?”

Her shoulders fell. And her body relaxed.

Damn. It felt so good to just say whatever was going through her head. At least for once.

“So… You don’t?”

Lia breathed in, and raised her chin.

Harry was looking at her again, but he kept narrowing his eyes, as if he was ready to call her out for lying.

He wasn’t teasing her.

Harry was actually doubting it.

He was actually after an answer.

Lia blinked. Multiple times. And then more laughter bursted out from deep inside her.

“Oh my God, Harry! No! Of course not!”

“You say it like it’s supposed to be obvious!”

Harry laughed, too—although from the way his voice wavered, it seemed more like nervous laughter. Or maybe a questioning one. Or a suspicious one.

Either way, it wasn’t actually joyful. It didn’t feel like it, at least.

So Lia pressed her lips together, then took another deep breath in.

Honestly, where was he coming from?

Had she ever done anything that could lead him to believe that? Because she was convinced she hadn’t. In fact, all along she had been afraid Harry would find out how attracted to him she was. Not to Rohan.

“Well… Yeah.” Lia shrugged. “I don’t know, but to me it is pretty obvious… I mean… Why would I even be here if I fancied him?”

“Huh.” Harry raised his eyebrows.

He blinked once, and then squinted, focusing on her eyes as though he was trying to find the secret answer for an unasked question written deep inside them.

That whole interaction was too weird. And not at all what Lia was expecting for that night—or any other night, for that matter.

“I just…” she said, then paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. Pressing her lips together, she batted her eyelashes and looked towards the back of the couch, targeting the wall. She sighed, and tried again. "I don’t… I don’t get why you thought I… That I wanted… But you didn’t notice that I—Y’know… That I… Ugh!"

Shaking her head, Lia took her hand to rub her forehead and chuckled. No matter how much she wanted to tell him, she couldn’t do it. She really couldn’t.

They were having such a great night…

What if she ruined everything?

What if she told him how much she fancied him and he decided to leave?

What if she decided to be open and honest about her feelings for him, and he turned her down?

She wouldn’t be able to talk to him again. She wouldn’t be able to look at him again. And she would never be able to get over the humiliation.

So she couldn’t risk it. She just couldn’t.

“Hey,” Harry said, placing his hand on top of hers.

Immediately, Lia loosened up. She relaxed the grip of her fingers, dropped her shoulders, and looked down at her lap.

And then, she frowned.

Apparently, she’d been gripping at her own hands, tightly squeezing them while completely unaware of it. Her muscles were sore, and there were small prints on the places where the tips of her fingers had sunk on her own skin.

“Lia…” Harry sneaked his fingertips underneath her palm, breaking her hands apart. “What’s going on? What were you going to say?”

“Uh… No—nothing.” Staring at their now connected hands, Lia shook her head. “Nothing, yeah. Forget about it.”

“Oh, c’mon!” His voice was cheerful, almost playful. “Say it… Please?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything. Really.”

He kept his thumb on the back of her hand, gently and slowly caressing her skin.

And Lia focused on that. She watched the way he moved up and down. She absorbed how soft yet rought the brush of his finger felt. She appreciated how warm, large, and strong his hold felt.

“Lia…”

Harry tugged her hand, pulling it off from her lap and holding it against his chest.

The movement caused Lia to lean forward, and she looked at him.

Harry’s intense green eyes were truly, really hypnotizing.

She licked her lips, then softened her voice. “Just… Let it go… Please?”

Harry flickered his eyes between hers, and he studied her in silence for a moment.

Instead of making her uncomfortable, though, it gave her enough time to focus some more on physical things. Like how he kept holding her hand firmly inside his. Secure. Fully enveloping it while clutching her palm against the middle of his chest.

Lia was almost sure she could feel his heart beating against his ribcage, and the fabric of his t-shirt was right under her skin.

Without dragging her eyes away from his, she moved her own thumb up and down, too. It was a subtle and cautious movement, but enough to brush and feel the texture under the pad of her finger.

Harry curved one side of his mouth up, and gave her palm a little squeeze.

“Fine. I’ll forget about it.”

He lifted his free hand to his hair and pushed the short curls out of the way, then dropped his arm next to Lia’s shoulder.

After a moment of patient and quiet staring, he added, “You’re not awkward, you know? Or boring. And it’s not true that people don’t want to be friends with you.”

Lia pressed her lips together, straightened her back, and shifted backwards.

Right…

They were back to that, then.

It was nice of him to say that, sure it was, but she didn’t agree with his words. In fact, she couldn’t even believe he truly meant them. Not when, up until then, he had never cared about getting to know her.

On the other hand, she also wasn’t expecting him to throw her own words back at her, especially because weeks had already gone by since that embarrassing night.

Her chest tightened, and she took a deep breath in.

God. She really didn’t want to think about that night, but there was a weight in her stomach, a heaviness she didn’t know how to get rid off, so she still found the strength to open up her mouth and say, “You never wanted to, tho, did you?”

Harry widened his eyes, and Lia looked down.

She focused on their still touching hands, then brushed off the weight of her words with a shrug. “I mean, it’s fine. I’m just saying.”

A couple of seconds passed without any answer, so Lia peeked at him through the corner of her eyes.

Harry was staring at where his other hand was, near her shoulder — with narrowed eyes, pursed lips and furrowed brows. He seemed lost inside his thoughts, and Lia rolled her lips into her mouth.

She hadn’t been wrong for pointing that out, right? It wasn’t like she wanted to, but more like she had to. More like she needed to. Because it was the truth, and it was what he had made her feel and believe all along, wasn’t it?

The fact that he had apologized to her didn’t erase the fact that he had made her snap in the first place. Right?

Or was she supposed to completely forget about that?

Harry sighed, and Lia blinked. She relaxed her jaw, darting her tongue through her lips as she focused on him again.

“That’s…” He paused, eyeing his thumb as he grazed it over her shoulder, on top of her cardigan. “It wasn’t like that. I’m just… I’m not good with people. That’s all.”

…

What?

Lia was glad he wasn’t looking at her face, because she couldn’t help but frown.

“Yes, you are,” she said, wandering her eyes around his distressed expression. “I’ve seen you with Rohan, and you’re good with him. You joke a lot, and you laugh, you offer your help when he needs it… And with Sage, I mean… I’ve only seen you around her a couple of times, but… You seemed to get along with her really quickly, so…”

The corner of Harry’s mouth turned up very slightly, only enough for her to notice it. Just like she noticed the way the muscles of his face relaxed, making all wrinkles disappear.

He tilted his head, and met her gaze.

Narrowing his eyes, he asked in a low and amused murmur, “How do you know that, huh? Have you been watching me?”

Shit.

“I… I mean…” Shit. Shit. Shit. “I think I…” Well, there was no point in denying it anymore, was there? “I have, yes. Yeah.”

Harry dropped their hands on his lap, then moved his thumb up and down, stroking the back of her hand.

“You have, huh?”

Lia shrugged. “Yeah…”

“Hmm… I never noticed.”

With another shrug, Lia looked away.

She wouldn’t answer that.

She already knew he’d never paid any attention to her, so of course he wouldn’t have noticed the way she watched him. The way she daydreamed about him.

There was no need to point that out, though.

“Still,” Harry added, “Rohan is probably just an exception.”

“Right… And Sage?”

“Just another exception.”

Lia snorted. And chuckled.

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes for a moment.

She needed to organize her thoughts and memories, because she knew that wasn’t the truth. She’d watched him for long enough to know that he was a joyful and caring person, but she didn’t know if that was something she should let him know, or not.

When she opened her eyes again, she met his calm and gentle stare. She bit her lip and leaned her side against the pillows, resting her shoulder under his stretched arm.

Harry kept moving his thumb gently on the back of her hand. Simply watching her.

He didn’t seem bothered by the time it took her to answer, nor seemed to be about to rush her.

It was different from what she was used to. Coming from him, sure, but in general, too. And it caused the words to simply roll out of her mouth.

“I just… I’ve seen you around people, and… I don’t know…I used to see you with that girl… Well, that woman, y’know? And you always seemed so gentle to her… I mean, a gentleman, really, and I—”

Harry shifted, suddenly and abruptly. He withdrew his arm from the couch and looked away from her, then rubbed his finger under his nose.

Lia pressed her lips together, stopping herself from talking even further.

She’d said something wrong, hadn’t she?

She totally had.

Of course she had.

She looked down at her lap, biting the inside of her bottom lip.

Harry was still holding her, but he had stopped brushing his thumb on the back of her hand.

And she didn’t want him to stop. She really didn’t.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I—” Shit. “I shouldn’t have said that… That was just… I didn’t— I mean—”

Shit.

What was she supposed to say now?

She had gone too far.

She knew that.

She knew she had entered a touchy subject.

Of course she had.

Honestly… What was wrong with her? Why would she even bring that woman up? Why would she bring someone Harry used to date up into their conversation? Why would she—Oh shit. What if… Wait, were they still together? Were they still a couple? The idea hadn’t crossed her mind… She hadn’t seen her at the bar anymore, so she’d just assumed and— Shit.

She looked up at him.

“Are you… You and that woman… Do you still… Are you two…”

“I’m single, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh. Okay. So… Is it over? Between you two?”

Harry nodded.

“It’s over, yeah. Look, I don’t… We haven’t seen each other for a couple of months now and… Yeah, it’s over. I’m not going back to that.”

Lia sighed through her nose. Emptying her lungs all at once.

At least, when he spoke, he kept his eyes on her. And Lia knew he was being honest, she recognized the struggle to let something out of your mind.

She didn’t mean to pry, though. All she needed to know was if Harry was cheating on someone or not. And if he wasn’t, then that was enough for her. It’s not like she was planning on telling him about her own ex-boyfriend, or the few horrible one night stands she had before moving to that building. She wasn’t ready to share that much, so… Yeah, Lia understood him.

“It’s fine.” She curled her mouth up, wanting to go back to playful smiles and soft touches. “We don’t have to talk about it. Honestly. I just wanted to know if you were… You know, cheating or something.”

As soon as the last words left her mouth, Lia saw Harry flinch. His eyes darted to their laps and his shoulders tensed, and it was very obvious that she had hit a nerve there. Another nerve.

It didn’t seem like something that made him angry, though. He didn’t look like someone who was about to yell or get into a fight. He looked… Sad? Ashamed? He looked like someone who really needed a hug. And that made Lia’s heart drop.

Had Harry’s heart been broken, just like hers?

Even worse, had Harry’s trust been broken, just like hers?

“I’m really sorry, Harry. I just… I meant… God. I keep messing it up, but… I swear in the end all I wanted to say is that I’ve seen you around other people, and that I always thought you seemed to be really nice… And like… A fun person to be around, y’know? Like, you seemed really sweet, and… I don’t know. Sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Harry took his free hand to cover his mouth and cough, clearing his throat.

“Don’t worry about it. She’s just… She’s a complicated story and I wasn’t expecting this to come up so… Bad reaction on my side. Sorry.”

Lia sighed.

“I should’ve just… All I meant is that you seem good with people. That’s all.”

“Yeah, well…” Harry shrugged. “I don’t know about that. It takes a lot of effort, I think.”

His voice sounded lower and deeper, and Lia recognized the vulnerability in it. It felt as if he was confessing something to her, as if he was sharing a hidden part of him with her.

Lia also recognized the struggle he had just described, and how real the statement was — interacting with people truly took a lot of effort for her, too. To the point where most of the time she chose to not interact at all.

“Yeah,” she said, so soft it felt almost like a whisper, “I know what you mean.”

Harry peeked at her from the corner of his eyes, pulling his lips into a thankful smile, then looked away again. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t place his arm by her shoulder anymore, and he also didn’t brush his thumb against her knuckles anymore. He just seemed lost inside his mind.

It was easy to tell, because Lia also recognized what that looked like. What that felt like.

Apparently, the table had turned between them, and she felt the urge to make him feel better—just like he had made her feel better earlier that day.

Did Harry feel as lonely as she felt?

Gulping down, Lia looked at their still connected hands. His entire body language had changed, but he hadn’t let go of her, he hadn’t stopped touching her.

Her lips turned up into a smile, and she bit her lip.

Tightening her hand around his, she squeezed his fingers. She watched as she moved her own thumb up and down on the back of his hand — brushing slowly, from his wrist and up to his knuckle.

Silence engulfed them comfortably, all while she steadily moved her thumb up and down.

Up and down.

Up… And down…

Up…

And down…

His skin was warm and smooth under her fingertip. And the idea of pressing a kiss to his cross tattoo kept flying through her mind.

So she took a deep breath, then blinked a couple of times — because no matter how tempting it was, there was absolutely no way she was ever going to take the risk.

“I knew your name from the first day, y’know?” Harry said.

Lia drew her eyebrows together, and lifted her head to look at him.

“What?”

Harry shrugged, then curled the corner of his mouth up. “That day… When you said I never cared to know your name? That wasn’t true. I just never asked because I didn’t need to… I asked Rohan to ask you.”

Lia dropped her mouth open and widened her eyes.

When she spoke, though, her voice was barely a shocked whisper, “No you didn’t.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head and looking away for a moment. His smile was big to the point of showing off his teeth, and his eyes were practically fully closed, creating wrinkles around them.

His reaction was so genuine…

And apparently contagious, too, because before Lia could prevent it, her lips had already turned up into a foolish, big, and stupid grin as well.

“I did, yeah. However…” He looked back at her. “I gotta be honest with you… That wouldn’t have happened if I’d known you two would end up fancying each other.”

“Oh my God!” Lia dropped her head back with a groan. Again? Really?! “Harry… C’mon…”

“What?” He laughed.

Lia looked down and back at him, trying her best to hide the annoyance out of her face — although she could feel it in her body as she breathed out and loudly through her nose.

“We don’t fancy each other.”

“Mhm. You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Aren’t you his favorite customer, tho?”

She rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know, but he definitely isn’t my favo—”

Shit.

Harry tilted his head, then lifted his lips up in a smirk.

“He isn’t what? Your favorite?”

Lia snorted, then tried to pull her hand away from his.

Harry didn’t let her, though.

“Who’s your favorite, then?”

“This is… This is just… It’s just ridiculous, y’know?”

Harry hummed.

“Maybe. I don’t know. For what’s worth, I still think he fancies you, but…”

With a dramatic pause, he leaned forward, as if he was about to make the most important point of the night, or as if he was about to share the deepest secret of their lives.

Lia swallowed.

He was so close. He hadn’t shaved in a while, because his stubble had gotten longer around his mouth and along his cheeks. It looked messy, almost kind of dirty, but also extremely sexy on him.

And his lips…

Oh God… Harry’s lips were so… Attractive. They looked soft, smooth, and gentle. They weren’t the biggest or plumpest she’d ever seen, but she had certainly never wanted to kiss someone’s lips so badly like she wanted to kiss his.

“I’m happy to know you don’t fancy him,” Harry said, his voice a tone or two lower than before.

And the way they moved…

“You are?” she murmured.

“Mhmm…”

What would it feel like to kiss him?

What would it feel like to taste his lips?

Because she wanted to.

So bad…

She wanted to taste his lips.

She wanted to touch his face.

She wanted to feel his scruff under her skin.

What if she did?

What if she extended her arm and brushed her fingers against his cheek? Over his facial hair?

Would it be soft?

Would it be scratchy?

“Hey there,” Harry said, grabbing her chin between his thumb and forefinger. His touch was both rough and delicate, holding her into place and drawing her attention back to his eyes while still being careful not to hurt her. “You seem distracted.”

Her skin tingled, and her heart hammered in her chest.

Shit.

The smirk on his face and the tone of his voice were enough to let her know he’d seen her staring at his lips.

And Lia didn’t—Shit.

She was supposed to say something.

She knew she was supposed to say something.

But every fiber of her body quivered with nervousness, and all words got stuck in her throat.

And the way he kept looking at her…

Fuck.

Looking at her with those patient and soft green eyes…

As if he had all the time in the world to stare at her…

Or as if he had all the time in the world to wait for a proper reaction…

Shit.

Lia’s brain was frozen.

She had been physically attracted to him for such a long time, always watching from far away and never able to see him up close. To really see him…

And he was being so nice to her…

So, so nice…

Beyond what she could’ve ever imagined he would be…

She didn’t want to misinterpret his intentions, though… Or get her hopes up…

She didn’t want to overstep…

And yet…

How could she even misinterpret his intentions, when he was right there, acting like that?

Looking at her like that?

Oh God.

Lia��s breath quickened, just like her heartbeat.

She wanted him. So much. She truly wanted him.

Her chest tightened so hard that it was almost painful, like she needed to release the tension somehow or she would explode. She could feel it bobbing up and down in double quick time, just like she could feel her pulse throbbing not only against her ribcage, but also inside her throat and her stomach. And all over her legs. And right into her… Fuck.

She clenched the muscles of her thighs, and swiftly shifted on the couch.

“Lia…”

She needed a distraction.

She needed to divert her mind from how much she wanted him. And she needed to pay attention to something that wasn’t his intense eyes burning into hers.

She needed to say something.

“Lia, hey…”

Anything.

C’mon.

Just say something.

Lia…

Say it.

Say it!

“I always wanted to see your tattoos!” she blurted, although a little bit louder than she intended to. “Just…” She cleared her throat. “Y’know… Up close.”

There was a pause. A loud and meaningful pause, as a heartbeat coming back to life.

She swallowed hard.

And then Harry’s expression softened, and his mouth turned into a smile.

A smile that genuinely lighted up his face.

A smile so sincere and spontaneous that it slowly caused Lia to smile, too.

So they both stared at each other, and smiled at each other.

Widely, openly, and simply.

“Yeah?” he asked.

Well… That worked out just fine, didn’t it?

She nodded.

“Mhmm…”

Harry went back to his previous position, letting her chin go and casually placing his elbow on the backrest of the couch. Then, without dropping the hold of her hand, he stretched his left arm and offered it to her. “You can look at them now, if you want.”

“Really?”

He brushed his thumb up and down the back of her hand and nodded.

“Of course. All yours.”

Lia nibbled her bottom lip and, without giving him any other answer, slid her gaze from his eyes to his lips, then directly to the sleek lines of his arm.

Scanning the black ink covering most of the skin, she didn’t waste any more time before taking her free hand to his left wrist. As soon as she touched him, her fingertips tickled. She slid her tongue between her lips and outlined his anchor tattoo with delicacy, dancing with the tip of her index on top of his tender and smooth skin.

Next, she moved on to some very tiny tattoos, brushing each one while she tried to make sense of them. There didn’t seem to be a connection between the different drawings or words, but they somehow still fit together.

Reaching the side of his forearm, she traced a mermaid, then leaned forward when she couldn’t see the entire silhouette.

With a deep breath, she moved her soft touch upwards, reaching his rose tattoo.

That one seemed older, as if the ink had faded already.

She could still see it perfectly, though.

Drawing her index finger over the stem, she traced it from the bottom and up to the petals, then back half-way down to follow the path to the two leaves.

She took her time with that one, tracing it so carefully and so attentively that it felt bigger than it looked.

She was enjoying the moment. Too much, to be honest. It felt intimate… Better than she could’ve ever imagined.

Her fingertips went from tingling to burning, and when she noticed that their deep and slow breaths were the only sound echoing inside her living room, her stomach bubbled.

Light-headed, it took her a while to finish. She wanted to give equal attention to each one of the petals, but she also didn’t want to ever stop touching him. She wanted to get even closer, and she wanted to get to know him even more.

Would other parts of him feel the same?

Would he ever let her explore his entire body like that? With the same discretion and delicacy?

Would he ever let her admire and adore every inch of him?

Would he ever let her know every part of his life?

Lia was almost getting to his elbow, finishing his rose, when Harry shivered under her touch. She paused her movements and looked up, meeting his determined and fervent stare.

He was breathing steadily through his parted lips, and he seemed flushed.

Lia’s heartbeat sped up again, and she bit back a smile — was he enjoying all of it as much as she was?

Shit.

She hoped he was.

He was so pretty.

And she wanted him. She really wanted him.

She felt ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it. She just did — she wanted him.

She really-fucking wanted him.

She wanted to hug him tightly, she wanted to lay on his chest, and she wanted to tangle their legs together. She wanted to snuggle on his lap, press her nose under his jaw, and smell the curve of his neck. She wanted to visit every corner of his body, kiss every spot along the journey, and taste every flavor of his soul.

And it was scary, because she couldn’t remember ever wanting someone that much.

She couldn’t remember a time in her life when her entire body had ached to touch someone. To kiss someone.

She had never felt that desire burning up through her veins, tingling down her toes, blazing up her fingers.

She had never experienced an overpowering feeling like that.

To want someone like that. To need someone like that. To desire someone like that.

Like she wanted him. Like she needed him. Like she desired him.

So bad.

So, so bad.

Shit…

She bit her lip.

What was she supposed to do with all those feelings?

She grazed her fingers over the hem of his sleeve, then kept her hand on his arm, wrapping it around where the fabric ended and his bare skin began.

“Where…” Lia murmured, almost out of breath. “Where do they end?”

Harry blinked, then cleared his throat.

His voice was also barely a whisper when he answered, “My tattoos?”

“Mhm.”

“It’s hard to say.”

“Oh…” She glanced to where her hand was, then bit her lip. “Okay…”

She didn’t want to get her hopes too high up, but it seemed like Harry was just as affected as she was. The atmosphere and the interaction between them had turned into something different. Something exciting. She had no doubts about it. She knew she wasn’t the only one feeling something. She knew he would say yes to whatever she asked.

For the first time, she couldn’t even question it. She just knew it.

Harry sighed. It was enough to get her attention back, but he still moved his free hand back to her chin, once again encouraging her to stare into his eyes.

“You’re just so…”

“W—what?”

“Beautiful.”

Lia’s stomach swirled.

Tightening the grip on her chin and slightly pinching her skin, Harry used the tip of his thumb to touch her lips, caressing them with a stroke that went from one side to the other. He went back and forth a couple of times, then stopped precisely on top of her cupid’s bow. When he pressed his finger down, and into her closed mouth, time stopped around them.

Lia watched him breathlessly through glossy eyes, whilst Harry immersed himself into his very own movements.

He brushed his other four fingers towards her neck, invading the side of her throat. Then, he slid his thumb down, and pulled her bottom lip along with it.

He stared at the way his fingertip glided through her warm, pink and damp flesh; getting wet from the ring of his finger to the tip of his nail.

Frozen, speechless, and out of breath, Lia lost herself in time, not even remembering what they’d been talking about or how they’d gotten themselves into that situation. Or how long they’d spent in that same position, sitting on her couch.

As soon as his thumb reached her chin and he let go of her mouth, Harry batted his eyelashes, dragging the tip of his tongue in between his own lips and licking them.

And then, still hypnotized in her mouth, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Lia nodded, because it was all she trusted she could do.

And Harry sighed, dragging his hand to the back of her neck and pulling her forward.

He leaned to meet her halfway, closing his eyes and pursing his lips before crushing their mouths together. His lips were cold and wet, and he didn’t move them against hers, just like she didn’t move hers against his. They simply remained forcefully pressed against each other, as if their mouths connecting was intense enough to freeze them both.

After a moment, Harry softened the grip on her and pulled away from her mouth.

The sound of their lips disconnecting echoed in her apartment, vibrating into Lia’s chest and mind. Only then she took in what had just happened, and she gasped quietly, drawing a deep, audible breath in.

Harry blinked.

“Lia, I’m—”

Cradling his cheeks, Lia leaned back in, closing her eyes and pressing her mouth against his once again. Their lips fit perfectly this time, molding around each other as she took his upper lip between hers and slightly sucked it into her mouth. Without rushing, she darted her tongue over his flesh and savored him, finally getting a taste of what she’d been craving for so long.

Her belly fluttered as her body reacted to the minty, juicy, and warm sensation. Something she could only describe as delicious, addictive, and magnetic.

With a gentle bite, she pulled away and blinked, letting his lip slide slowly through her teeth as she created some distance between them. When she looked at him, she found him frozen in place with closed eyes and parted lips, breathing out small puffs of air that made Lia ache for his mouth all over again.

“What?” she whispered, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks. “What were you going to say?”

Harry fluttered his eyelashes open, but only for half a second, immediately shaking his head and going back in for a new kiss. He didn’t hold back, then, nor wasted any more time, sliding his palm down her spine and crossing both of his arms around her waist whilst dipping his tongue between her lips and searching for hers.

And Lia gave in just as quickly and just as desperately, granting him free access as she met his tongue with her own and moved along with his body, putting both of her legs up and kneeling on the couch.

There was a new sense of urgency between them. Their mouths moved in perfect sync, meeting over and over again for desperate kisses that erased all of her doubts and paused all of her thoughts.

His mouth was tender, and yet hungry for her. He explored her with the same curiosity, desire and need she explored him, tugging her closer whilst shifting to get closer as well.

Her belly bubbled and swirled. Sweat dripped down her neck, and a wave of annoyance quivered through her. It was too good to be true, and yet it still wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She needed more.

So she pulled away and broke the kiss, straightening up and moving her arms to take her damn-freaking-useless cardigan off.

Everything happened so fast that she barely acknowledged Harry’s help, or the way he smiled at her reaction. All she noticed was how he dropped the item on the floor and didn’t miss a beat before launching himself onto her neck, spreading open-mouthed kisses while sneaking his hands under her tank-top and pressing his palms onto her back.

Following his pace, Lia threaded her fingers through his hair and closed her eyes, relishing on his actions. Harry shifted backwards, and without even once breaking them apart, he squared his shoulders with the back of the couch and pulled Lia along, guiding her to climb on top of him.

Lia held herself onto him and kneeled on the cushion, swinging one leg over his lap before easing her weight down and landing on his thighs. It was all he needed to be able to taste her skin with the same urgency he’d tasted her mouth. Burying his nose, parting his lips and poking his tongue out. Sinking his fingertips into her sides while shifting the brush of his scruff up to her jaw, then further down to her ear.

And then a soft, unexpected moan vibrated in the back of her throat, and Harry stopped moving.

“Damn,” he breathed into her neck, then dragged his mouth up and back to hers. “C’mere.”

He kissed her eagerly and passionately, taking his hands up to the back of her head and getting his fingers tangled with her hair. Then pulling her closer and right onto his lap.

The new pressure between her legs spurred another moan from Lia’s chest, which was quickly muffled by their twined, impatient tongues. And by the way Harry sighed into her mouth.

He untangled his fingers from her hair and wandered both of his hands through her back, tracing roughly all of her curves before landing on her bum. He spread his hand open and gave her ass a rough squeeze, then directed her to adjust on top of him and roll just the tiniest bit on his length.

The new friction was enough to smudge her wetness over him, and a delicious throb and shudder shot through her body. She moaned louder this time, and a low and guttural sound rasped in the back of Harry’s throat.

“Keep going,” he mumbled. “Yeah?”

With a nod, Lia placed her arms around his neck, turning her building emotions into a desperate hug before unashamedly rolling her hips once, twice, and thrice.

Shit.

Knowing he was getting hard was hot, but being able to feel him getting hard as she pleasured herself on it was on a whole other level. It turned every sensation into flames, and it made everything inside her combust.

And apparently it made Harry go feral as well. Wandering his hands all over her body, capturing every inch of her. Squeezing her waist, exploring her chest, grasping her thighs, sliding to her bum and clinging to it while scooching down on the couch and guiding her to keep rocking back and forth.

Harry was in charge, there was no doubt of that. He guided their kisses skillfully — with a mix of hunger, lusciousness and softness. He moved vehemently, devouring her tenderly and yet with no mercy at all. He tasted fresh, and sweet, and powerful. Pulling away for half a second only to tilt his head to the opposite side and start all over again.

Lia had never been kissed like that, and she already knew she would never be kissed like that again. The way he grabbed her — so tightly — and the hungry sounds in the back of his throat — so manly — made her body ache for more. Pleasure pulsed through every single one of her veins, and everything burned. Burned. And burned.

Dropping her hands down his chest, Lia tugged at the fabric of his t-shirt and helped him get rid of it. Just as easily and hurriedly as they’d gotten rid of her cardigan. And then Harry dropped both hands to the hem of her top and tugged it up, too.

“Off?”

Lia nodded and lifted her arms, and soon the item was thrown somewhere she couldn’t see and Harry’s mouth was attached to her breast. And also his hand. With every single one of his fingers digging into her.

She sighed, and perhaps she even quietly moaned, too.

It was just so unexpected and so… Good.

So, so good.

The way he sucked her in and flicked his tongue — up and down, side to side. The way he sank his teeth, meanwhile squeezed his hand around the other one. The way he pinched. Teased. Played with it. With them. With her.

“Oh God,” escaped through her mouth, and Lia bit her lip. Embarrassment quickly spread through her face, so she pressed her cheek on the top of his head and looked away. Hiding from him.

Harry let go of her with a pop and one last flick of his tongue, then crossed his arms around her back. He kissed her chest, and her shoulder, and her neck. Trailing a wet path all the way to her ear.

“You sound really nice,” he murmured. “And I’m so turned on right now… But I don’t… I don’t have a condom with me.”

Lia pulled away from the position she was in and shook her head.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d bought a condom.

“Me neither.”

She leaned in, searching for his lips and kissing him again.

Harry kissed her back, until he twisted his fingers around her hair and yanked her away from his mouth.

“We can’t…” he breathed out. “We can’t keep going without a condom.”

Lia blinked and looked at him.

Harry sat underneath her. His lips were wet and swollen from so much kissing. His hair was disheveled and untamed. And his t-shirt was nowhere to be seen.

“I—I know, but…”

She slid her palms down his chest — his solid, warm, hairy chest.

God, she was so, so needy. She couldn’t stop now. She didn’t want to stop now. She was so lost in pleasure. So lost in how he looked. How he tasted. How he sounded. How he smelled. So lost in how he made her feel, and so incredibly aware of how her deepest dreams were finally — finally — coming true. Of how much she wanted him.

So, so lost, and so, so aware, that funnily enough she didn’t even notice when she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his, then held onto his neck and resumed the rolling of her hips — back and forth, back and forth.

“Can’t we just…” Lia murmured, then stopped to bite her lip and hum.

“Jesus Christ.” He crossed his arms around her back and kissed her. “We can. Yeah. We sure can.”

He squeezed his hands around her, constantly guiding her to keep grinding on him, and soon the entire living room was filled with their urgency. And the urgency between them was filled with pure determination. And their determination was made of hurried breathings, dizzy groans, and hot moans. And everything became so intense and so greedy that it suddenly became extremely uncoordinated, and Lia couldn’t focus on kissing him anymore, and she had absolutely no idea what she was doing with her hands anymore.

Harry must’ve sensed her, because he was quick to crawl one hand up her spine and place it on the back of her head, entangling his fingers with her hair and keeping her face close to his. At the same time, he kept his other arm firm and secure around her waist, and made sure she wouldn’t break their closeness, nor stop the back and forth of her hips.

Dizzy, Lia hummed another moan. She rested her forehead against his, smudging their noses together while they breathed from each other’s mouths. She blinked, and through blurry eyes watched Harry’s eyebrows pulled together, and his eyelids shut tightly. He kept his lips parted while he panted, breathlessly just like her, and then he tightened his hold on her, scooched even further down the couch, and thrusted his hips up, meeting the rolling of her hips.

His hardness stroked exactly where Lia needed him the most, and her entire body jolted.

With a moan, she placed her hands on the back of the couch to hold herself and closed her eyes, concentrating on how incredibly good he felt between her legs.

“Fuck,” Harry’s husky voice grunted, his hot breath hitting her mouth and cheek. “That’s… That’s it. C’mon.”

Lia felt him vibrating all over her body, and electricity blasted her senses.

It was maddening, and agonizing.

It was addictive, and satisfying.

Harry’s body kept stroking and rubbing the right place between her legs, the one she needed for the bubble of tension and pleasure to grow. It spread to her lower back, her belly, her chest, her core. It caused Lia to squeeze her eyes, to furrow her brows, and to tremble. It prompted her to move faster. And also to straighten up a little, shoving her chest onto Harry’s face as she moved her hips to find the constant pressure on that exact wonderful spot she needed to finally explode.

As soon as she found the position she was looking for, she grasped onto the couch and focused on pressing down — pressing down, down, and down, while rolling more, more, and more.

“Fucks sake you’re so hot,” he breathed out, digging his hands into her thighs and his lips all above and around her breasts. He thrusted up to meet her again, gripping and squeezing as she lost the strength and coordination of her body. “Don’t stop. C’mon.”

“Oh my—”

Letting her mouth fall open, Lia cried a gasped moan into the top of his head. A mix between shock, euphoria, and need.

She shut her eyes tightly and shivered, squeezing his waist between her thighs and falling onto him while every single one of her muscles contracted and relaxed all at once.

Frantic.

Shattering.

Fiery.

Pleasure rippled through her. It waved all over — from her belly, to her cheeks, to her toes.

Everything went dark as the thrill and the fizz took over every inch of her. She didn’t want to stop, but she couldn’t help it. It had been a while since she’d been with someone, and even longer since she’d had an orgasm while being with someone, so it made sense that her feelings were so intense. Or that her exhausted body couldn’t handle the sensitivity.

So she nuzzled on his neck and embraced the bliss, catching up her breath while he guided her to ride out the high with slow and gentle touches.

But then, Harry cursed.

He shifted slightly underneath her, grunted, cursed again, and then apologized.

Lia opened her eyes slowly, blinking a couple of times to focus on her surroundings. Harry’s neck was all she could see, though. Pretty, smooth, sweaty skin of his neck. The urge to kiss him was instant, so she licked her lips, snuggled closer, and pressed her mouth to the side of his throat.

Harry squeezed her hips and thrusted up, his covered length sliding onto Lia’s front.

“Fuck. Shit—Sorry.” He chuckled, saying the same words for what felt like the hundredth time. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

“S’okay…” Lia murmured, sliding her hands from his shoulders to his chest. Her lips brushed his skin as they moved, and she took the opportunity to kiss it again, and again.

“I’m just… I’m really hard right now…” he confessed the obvious, dropping his head back and grunting to the ceiling. “Shit.”

He shifted again. As if trying to get away from the friction. Or maybe searching to get some more of it.

Lia hummed, slithering her fingers further down his upper body while she scooched backwards on his thighs.

As soon as she reached his high-waisted pants, Harry jolted. He circled her wrists with one hand and squeezed her hip with the other, warning with a chuckle. “Lia…”

He never stopped her, though. So she brushed her nose up and down his neck, and drifted her fingers smoothly along the black fabric.

“What?” she whispered, then pressed a kiss right under his ear. “Want me to stop?”

“Fuck no.”

Lia smiled.

Turning her hand upside down, she covered his bulge and stroked him over his pants. Once, and twice.

At that, Harry moaned.

The sound was so husky, so low and so manly, and yet so vulnerable and so weak at the same time, that it prompted her to repeat the movement. Again. And again.

Even through the fabric of clothes, he felt amazing under her palm—long, thick, and firm.

Lia could only imagine what he would look like, or even taste like. And so she asked, repeating the same question he’d breathed out earlier, “Off?”

Harry barely nodded once before he was already shifting and unbuttoning his pants, and he didn’t even have time to pull his briefs down before Lia’s hand was already working on him. Each time with more strength and confidence. Over and over. Licking her palm to make it easier. Better. Brushing around his tip. Twisting here and there. Squeezing and gripping as she moved up and down.

“Holy shit.” He bucked his hips forward, then covered her hand with his, panting heavily while guiding her touch.

Lia hummed. Parting her lips, she pressed her mouth to his jaw, then slid her tongue to taste the scratchiness of his facial hair.

He moaned again, and then he took his free hand up, ranking his fingers through her hair and yanking her head away from where he couldn’t see her.

“Kiss me,” he murmured, directing her face to his and drawing her in to get exactly what he wanted.

Lia’s response was immediate, losing herself with his mind-numbing, sloppy, and harsh mouth. Kissing the hell out of him while he writhed and struggled beneath her. Going along with the urgent pace of his hand and swallowing each one of his raspy curses and low rumbled moans. Whimpering along when he drove their connected hands from his base to his head, and then back to his base. Or when he squeezed her hand so they could squeeze himself together, or when he stroked further down and managed to focus on other sensitive parts of him.

The way he tasted, the way he smelled, the way he sounded, the way he felt. Watching him, listening to him, and helping him as he crumbled beneath her with pure and raw pleasure. Everything was so powerful that she wouldn’t be surprised if it ended up leading her into another orgasm.

And then every muscle of his body tensed as he pulsed one last time and growled with pleasure.

Lia broke the kiss and pulled away, keeping the pace of her hand and watching the way his mouth fell open, how he furrowed his brows while shutting his eyelids tightly, and how he shuddered underneath her touch. And just like that, the mess was all over her, and him.

The sight was so intense and intimate, that it filled her heart with emotion. So Lia took her free hand to his face, cradled his cheek, and kissed him again. Capturing his bottom lip between hers, sucking it into her mouth, and pouring him with affection.

Harry hummed, closing his mouth around her upper one while slowly coming down from his own high.

He sounded content, and relaxed. And a happy smile bursted out from Lia’s chest, inevitably breaking their kiss.

Smiling as well, Harry leaned in to peck her mouth one more time and pulled away, collapsing onto the couch.

“Holy shit…” he chuckled, breathlessly and quietly. Only for them to hear. “Just… Just so you know… Tomorrow morning I’m going out… And getting us some bloody fucking condoms, ok?”

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #this is it for now #there's only so much i can embarrass myself without caring too much about it hehe

148 notes · View notes

pandora-writes-one-piece · 3 days

Text

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 5

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 5 🔞

Word Count: 7361

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Guys this chapter is biiiig! I'm so sorry. But I didn't want to cut it short and remove such a fun interaction at the end... It has a lot of important information going on but it's a bit NSFW, k? Not too explicit, but still... 🔞

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil

Masterlist

You barely see Law after that encounter because of your conflicting schedules. He texts you the details for the wedding, stressing the need to dress to impress and tries to offer you money to buy dresses but you refuse vehemently saying there’s no need.

You have a friend with the classiest, sluttiest closet you've ever known: Nami.

She, however, forces you to buy new lingerie to go with the dresses because there's no way you can wear satin with granny panties underneath. Only sultry lace. You almost think you got away with not telling her who your date for the wedding would be, but you bump into Kaya and Usopp, and learn that Law informed Kaya of his absence because of a wedding he's going to attend.

Nami can add two and two.

And she does it in front of Kaya and Usopp which renders the rest of your afternoon useless while you are teased relentlessly.

On the plus side, Nami's dresses are really beautiful, fit you perfectly and you both find the perfect colours to complement your complexion. You pack extra dresses, just in case.

And extra panties.

Law tells you that you're to leave Friday morning because you have to be at the Donquixote household in the afternoon and the drive to the city still takes a while - you manage to do extra hours at work on Thursday to compensate for your absence. You'll sleep there for three nights, the rehearsal dinner is on Saturday, the wedding and reception are on Sunday, and then you’ll come back Monday morning - you'll compensate for those hours on Tuesday.

That means you'll spend about four days pretending to be Law's girlfriend.

After the heated moment you had while practising, you're feeling both apprehensive and excited about the prospect. You've had a taste of what he's been telling you, how rewarding it can be to let go of your control, to let someone else take over. It felt good, freeing and so pleasurable.

And he barely even showed you the tip of the iceberg.

You're aching for more of his relentless teasing, you're pretty sure you can kiss him faster this time. You just want to taste him again.

Sighing, you decide to finish packing. It's going to be a long weekend. As you take the dresses out of the bag Nami put them in, your eyes widen at the unexpected surprise she left there.

A box of condoms.

Sneaky Nami. Does she think she's witty and funny?

Joke's on her, you're taking them anyway!

Deep down, you're hoping you get to use them.

-*-

Law greets you normally from inside the car, as if nothing happened and he wasn't probing your throat with his tongue earlier this week.

You, on the other hand, immediately lose it at the sight of his smirk.

Fuck. He knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He knows he's got you wrapped around his little finger. And that's why you're not going to make this easy on him.

“Hi.”

You exclaim tensely as you approach the car, already struggling to figure out how to open the door to his sleek, black Tesla. Yet, Law doesn't give you any time to make a fool of yourself as he gets out of the car and opens the door for you. You can't help but notice how casual and sexy he looks. Black jeans and a yellow t-shirt, paired with expensive sunglasses that fit him like he’s a movie star - that's the whole look, and it drives you crazy.

He sees you checking him out, so he leans in and places a soft kiss on your cheek as his hand grips your waist, pulling you towards him. “Hi, sweetheart, you look gorgeous.”

Freezing in place, you feel your cheeks burning from the intimacy of his greeting. Your father watches you both from the porch, coffee mug in hand and a silly grin on his face.

“How are you doing, Mr. S.?” Law's eyes barely leave yours, an amused glint making them twinkle and sparkle.

“Oh, I'm mighty fine! I'm greatly enjoying the show!” Shanks replies, his shit-eating grin still in place and you already regret sharing with him what you were doing this weekend. Truth be told, you didn't exactly tell him you were going as Law's girlfriend, you just said you were going as his date, in a friendly manner, so Law could avoid his uncle. But after the way the doctor greeted you, you're sure your father now firmly believes there's more than friendship between you.

You mumble curses at both men as Law lets go of you to place your bags in the trunk of the car. Then he lays your dresses neatly in the backseat, near his suits, so they don't wrinkle too much.

“Bug, be careful!” Shanks admonishes from the porch.

“Yes, yes, I will! Call if you need anything.” You say, mostly out of habit more than anything else, because your father would be much better off calling Ace or Beckman if he needed immediate assistance since you'll be far away.

“I won't. Have fun!” You wave him goodbye as you enter the car and Law closes your door, but you watch as his grin widens. “Law, take care of my baby girl, will you?”

Law then closes the backdoor of the car and chuckles. “Sure will, Mr. S.” He waves and enters the car, taking his seat and burning you with his amber gaze and sexy smirk. His hand lands on your exposed thigh and he squeezes softly. “I'll take good care of her.” He whispers, earning a muffled gasp as you purse your lips to contain the incriminating sound.

As he chuckles again, fastens his seat belt, and inputs the new destination into the GPS, you take a deep breath, steadying your heart rate. You're determined to not let him hold the same control over you as he did the other day.

Very determined.

But as he backs the car away, completely disregarding the cameras on the dash and placing his tattooed bare arm behind your seat to look back - dark, tinted sunglasses in place and an unreadable expression - you sigh and close your eyes, your determination leaving you in a heartbeat.

This is going to be a long ride.

-*-

As soon as he enters the interstate, you fish out your tablet from your purse, turning it on and adjusting the brightness so you can read the screen.

“You're really going to ignore me? Am I less interesting than all your book boyfriends?” He says, eyes fixed on the road since there's a bit of traffic.

You try to hide a small blush by adjusting your sunglasses. He's not right. He's way more interesting than any book boyfriend. He's real.

“I'm not going to read.” You ignore his comment, trying to steer away from every chance he gets to gain the upper hand. “I'm opening our list so we can cover the important questions that were left unanswered the other day. Since it's a long ride, we can study. And maybe make up a story about how we met and fell in love. A believable one.” You mumble.

Law scoffs. “Again with that list. Fine, if we must.”

“We must.” You reinforce your statement. “We still haven't covered our personal stories… maybe that's important? It could come up.”

You glance at him and notice that familiar crease forming in the middle of his eyebrows. You know he moved in with his uncles at ten but you have no idea how his parents died, and that's something a girlfriend would know. You’ve shared everything about your parents and their divorce with him already, but there's still your story about Ichiji, which you're not so keen on sharing.

He sighs deeply, his face falling into that stoic expression. “Later. Also, why do we need a love story? Isn't ours perfect?”

The tablet you're holding almost falls to the ground as your head whips to the side. “Ours? What do you mean?”

The smirk returns as his foot presses the gas and he passes two slow cars in the right lane. “You're the daughter of my surgery patient. As soon as I laid eyes on you, I knew you were special. When you passed out in my office while yelling at me, I was certain. When you fumbled and made a fool of yourself just because I was examining you, I knew there was no way out of it. When your expression intensified as I called you a ‘good girl’, I was deeply ensnared. The rest came naturally. I helped your father, we got close, we fell in love.”

You're staring at him, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. Is this how he feels? Or is this pretence? Because the way he told the story was really believable. The thrumming of your heart is slower and steadier than when he's teasing you, something much more grounding than the usual feeling, but no less intense.

“What do you think? Is it believable enough or should I add more details?”

Oh… It’s not real.

“No,” You clear your throat, “it's perfect. Everyone will buy it.”

You did.

-*-

“There's another important thing we still haven't discussed. I don't think you covered it in your professional-looking spreadsheet.” Law says when you're taking a break from asking him questions, trying to memorise some of his answers so you don't slip up when it really matters.

He sounds serious, so you take your eyes off your tablet to look at him. “Oh? I covered everything.” You say with a slight edge.

Law's low chuckle is not condescending. “Yes, you covered daily things, information, wants and hopes for the future.” He takes his eyes off the road for a second to look you in the eyes. “You didn't cover boundaries.”

Your mind instantly takes you to the heated moment you shared when he kissed you. If you had any boundaries set then, would he still have done it? You don't want to go without his touch.

It's far too addictive.

“Oh. That.”

“Yeah, that. It's important. What are your boundaries? What is off the table? Besides sex, obviously. We don't need to do it to fool anyone.” You lock your tablet, fixing your eyes on the road ahead and pondering. He's right, sex is a big boundary. But what are your other boundaries?

“Well… I… I don't mind doing what we did in your house.” Why does your voice sound so small?

“Speak up, sweetheart, don't be afraid to tell me what you want.” He uses that commanding tone that sends shivers down your spine and twists your stomach.

Taking a deep breath, you steady your voice, fixing your eyes on the licence plate of the car in front of you. “I think we should kiss… because of appearances… and I like all the teasing, and the touching… I don't mind having to beg for it.” You whisper again, cheeks ablaze and heart pounding.

“It's nothing to be ashamed of. I also like it when you say please.” Fuck.

“Is the AC on?” You stammer and he chuckles low, setting the AC higher.

“What else?” You open your mouth and close it a few times. This one is a little harder to get out. Law takes a look at you and smirks. “You like it when I call you ‘good girl’, right?”

Fuuuuck! The voice! It's his voice! It makes everything - better! - worse!

“Yes!” The words leave your lips in a hurry and you take a deep breath again. Why is this so hard?

You never had to speak about these things with Ichiji, about what you want or like. You had ‘normal’ sex where he focused on getting himself off. He didn't especially chase your pleasure, not if he wasn't in the mood for foreplay. But this conversation isn't about sex, anyway, it's about boundaries so you should focus!

“How about touching? Where can't I touch you?”

“Erm… Below the waist?” You try, tentatively. Thinking about his hands on your body is already leaving your brain in a puddle of mush.

“So I can't touch your legs?”

“You can!” Another blush creeps in. “And you can touch my butt too…” That sentence comes out as a mumble but he hears it.

“So it's just your vagina I can't touch, right?” He’s amused by your embarrassment and you know it.

“Yes, doctor.” A loud sigh leaves your lips. “How about you? Where can't I touch?” Time to turn the tables!

“Sweetheart, you can't touch me anywhere. I'm in control, remember?” His smirk is unbearable. And unbearably hot.

“That's not fair, Law!”

“You're right, it’s not. But you’ll only touch me if I allow you to, if you’re being good.” He lets out another chuckle, a low rumble. “The same rules as you, then.”

“So I can’t touch your vagina?” The smirk on your lips is teasing and you both share a laugh.

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” A smirk of amusement still lingers on your lips when he asks you the next question. “So everything else is fine? What we did before? The teasing, the touching?” He asks one more time.

“Yes. All of that is fine.” It’s welcomed, even. “Should we… should we save these interactions for when we’re n public?”

“I don’t think we can very well do that in public.” He teases.

“You’re right. Maybe when we feel like it?” You have to admit you relished in the complete surrender of control you experienced the other day. You see yourself getting slowly addicted to that feeling. “I've been thinking and what you did the other day soothed me… I wouldn't mind exploring that… Besides, I think whatever interaction that serves to deepen our pretence is…” Needed, desired, wanted! “Beneficial to our act.”

“Oh.” He sounds surprised. “You want to be spontaneous? Where is your need to control every little situation?”

Your hands fidget with the hem of your dress, straightening it and then picking at a thread as your mind wanders. You’re trying to let go, like he said. Trying to surrender. Trying to let him help you do that. But you don’t quite know how to answer him. You want his help, but you don’t want to impose. You don’t want to force him to help you. Does that even make sense?

You feel it even before you see it. Law’s hand sits on your leg, a bit above the knee and he squeezes. “It’s alright. One step at a time. There’s no rush.”

-*-

The ride keeps going at a steady pace, you fill in the blanks of some seemingly unimportant questions like: ‘when was your first kiss, and with whom?’ or ‘do you want to have kids?’ Meaningless stuff normal couples would talk about. Law gets tired of the questions pretty quickly and just as the GPS indicates that you're about halfway to your destination, he drives the car to a rest area so he can stretch his legs and asks you if you want some coffee.

You couldn't agree more. Your legs feel stiff and your butt aches.

Law puts the car in the fast charger as you both head inside to grab some coffee and use the restroom. Neither of you wants to sit down again, but, conveniently, there are trees surrounding the whole rest area and there's a path connecting the entirety of it, so you both decide to walk it, to pass the time and stretch your legs.

After a few moments, you try again. “About our pasts, Law, as my boyfriend I would have told you all about my ex…” You decide to start, since talking about his parents’ death must be very hard for him.

He nods and glances at you so you know he's listening. “We were together for around four years, having moved in together after one year of dating. He proposed to me last year and we were already planning the wedding, it was pretty serious and I genuinely thought I was in love. He's the son of a very powerful man and I worked for his father at a very prestigious company.” Ichiji's name is at the tip of your tongue, you could just say it. But you're certain Law knows who he is and maybe that's a bit more information than you're willing to share right now. Talking about an anonymous asshole beats talking about someone he can picture doing terrible things to you.

Taking a deep steadying breath after a small sip of coffee, grounds you as you continue, the soft crunch of gravel beneath your feet lending you some sort of comfort. “I found out he was cheating on me and a little research proved he had always been cheating on me, since the beginning, I was just too blind to see it. He was manipulative, controlling and a bit possessive - all in terrible, demeaning and very dangerous ways. He made me feel like it was my fault that he cheated, that I wasn't good enough for him, that I would never be good enough for anybody. Instead of feeling safe around him, I always felt on edge, it was… it was unbearable.”

You don't even realise that you’ve stopped on the path, your eyes fixed somewhere else, not focused on anything. The pain from the past still manages to hinder and hurt you. It's Law's touch that brings you back. His hand on your waist, pulling you to him helps you remove yourself from those hurtful events. He leans his head to your ear and whispers, his breath hot against your shivering skin.

“If this were real, I would make you forget all about that asshole.” His fingers dip against your skin and he grits his teeth. “There's nothing I can do about him now, but I can help you overcome the pain.” You nod slowly, your mind hazy as to what's real or not. “If this were real, I would never make you feel like that. You'd be all I have ever wanted. I would make you see that you're more than enough, that you're everything.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at the intensity of his voice as you feel the familiar prickle of tears in your eyes. Your mind is reeling and your heart is racing again. This is too confusing.

“Law,” you whisper, blinking and taking a small step back but not pulling away from his grasp. “We need some sort of signal, some way to know we're faking or being real. It's too much. I can't handle this, I need a semblance of control.”

He grunts, pulling away from you as his fingers tousle his black hair and you both resume your walk. “You're right.”

“Should it be verbal? Like a safe word? Or something physical?”

“Verbal might be too obvious. Doflamingo is very sharp. We have to use something physical. Not too conspicuous, something of meaning to both of us.” Law looks at you, trying to come up with something. “Do you always wear earrings?”

He eyes your ears, you currently have small hoops on - quite similar to the ones he's wearing. “Usually, yes. I can wear them all weekend, I have different ones to go with the dresses.”

“Okay.” He says as he stops, making you stop too. Then he takes a step closer to you, his hand raising near your ear. “When I'm faking it, I'll start with this.” His fingers touch your ear, twirling your earring as his lips curve upwards. “And then I'll do whatever action I was going to do to pretend. You can do the same to me, I won't take off my earrings either.”

You nod as he drops his hand and you raise yours, to give it a try. Your eyes pierce his and his amber gaze is quite soft. Softer than you've ever seen him. Could it be because of what you shared about Ichiji? Your fingers graze his ear and you notice the way his jaw clenches at the touch.

You haven't touched him like this yet. He's the one who’s been doing all the touching. You just remember feeling his taut muscles against your palms as he was kissing you senseless. But no light touches, no teasing. How will he react further?

Your digits circle the loop of one of his earrings and, as you drop your hand, you let the tip of your nails lightly scratch his neck. He hisses with a deep inhale as he grabs your hand mid-air, to stop you. “Yes, like that. It works.”

You got under his skin.

It's not just you who gets affected by light touches, you can bend him to your will, though you doubt very much he'll ever let you do it.

You resume your walk, but he doesn't let go of your hand. You're too afraid to ask if it's real or fake, but since you both used the signal now, it must be fake.

It's his turn to speak but he doesn't seem willing at all. “Law you don't have to share. Maybe it's something you don't want to say to your girlfriend, it's okay. I'm sure your own family understands how hard it is for you. I would understand too, if this were real.” You give his hand a gentle squeeze and he lets out a deep breath and a slight nod.

Your walk continues in peaceful silence for a while.

“Both my parents were doctors. They were wonderful parents, full of life.” The crease in the middle of his brows is there again, but so is a very tender, longing smile. “I had a younger sister, too. She was very bright and happy.”

Had? Has she passed too? You feel your heart sinking as he continues his story.

“There was a fire, a house fire, something completely accidental. They all died. I was with uncle Cora, he and Doffy were my mother's siblings.” He stops speaking, his jaw clenches and you can feel sweat in his hand. It's the most out of control you've seen him until now and yet, he still seems collected and cool. “That's the gist of it. I moved in with my uncles and the rest is history.”

He has shared the rest with you. About how kind and amiable Cora is and how ruthless and powerful Doffy is. He doesn't seem to fear Doflamingo, it's a lingering respect. But what you sense most when he speaks of him is disgust or resentment. So you realise that he hasn't told you the whole story. There's more to learn about Trafalgar Law. Maybe not about his parents or their death - that seems pretty straightforward - but perhaps some other interactions he's had with Doflamingo while growing up.

He doesn't share and you don't press. If he doesn't feel the need for you to know, it's because it's something he wouldn't share lightly.

“I'm so sorry.” You mutter as you squeeze his hand again.

A few moments pass in silence again and you discard your empty coffee cups in a trash can along the path. The car is in sight and Law's phone tells him it's fully charged so you're ready to go.

“Oh, Law?” He stops near the car to stare at you. “How long should we say we've been dating? It's a pretty important question we need to know. And if it's true, maddening love, we need to have had some time to let it mature and-...”

“Two months. I met you around two and a half months ago. I don't need much more time than that to realise you're special and you're someone I want to be with.” He shrugs as if he's said the most natural thing in the world and opens the car door for you, waiting for you to get inside before closing it.

You can't help but notice that he didn't touch your earrings when he said that.

-*-

Ever since you left the freeway and the GPS timer keeps getting smaller as you approach your destination, Law has been quieter. The flirtatious, teasing demeanour he uses with you has been completely replaced by his normal stoic expression. The crease in his forehead deepens as you approach Donquixote’s household.

You try to engage in small talk, but the only response you get are grunts and nods, so you don't press further. He blasts his music and you don't complain. It might be his way of coping. If it were you in his shoes, you know you'd be close to a panic attack by now, but he's pretty composed, considering.

Only someone who's spent time with him, getting to know him, learning his little tells, can realise he's upset, anxious and nervous. You know his uncle will pick it up immediately.

Law takes a deep sigh as the GPS announces the destination and stops the car in front of a large gate, near the intercom, waiting to be buzzed inside. You look at him, placing your hand on his leg because he's gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles are almost white.

“Hey, I've got you.” You mimic the words he used on you when he was operating on Shanks. His gaze softens and he breathes deeply, his shoulders relaxing a bit as the gates open wide.

Your eyes dart around in awe. You see a grand mansion at the end of the road, but the way there is adorned with trees and flowers of all kinds. The gardens are immense and opulent. Just like the man who owns them. You peek at the top of a few tents on the back of the house, probably where the wedding reception will take place, and the gardens are buzzing with activity. Gardeners polish the last touches on the flowers, while servants make last minute preparations for the decorations. They all seem tense, as if nothing can be out of place.

And if Doflamingo likes control as much as Law does, then there really can't be anything out of place.

Law parks the car as you see two blonde men at the top of the steps leading to the mansion. They're huge. Law is tall, they're taller. He inhales deeply as his eyes meet yours, a glint in them, the crease still parting his brow, and then he touches your earring. “Are you ready?”

You nod and ignore the twists and turns in your stomach, the discomposed rhythm of your heart, the many scenarios in your head where everything goes wrong. Instead, you smile brightly, repeat his gesture and squeeze his hand. “Let's sell this, Law.”

He nods and gets out of the car, you're about to do the same but discover that your door has a child lock. As Law moves around the car to open the door for you, you realise that it serves this single purpose and you can't help but to blush. In four years of your relationship, not once has Ichiji held a door open for you. In less than a week of a fake relationship, Law does it constantly.

He holds out his hand to help you out and you smile sweetly at him, unconsciously passing a hand through your hair to straighten it as you adjust your summer dress. Cora - you assume, since you know the other man is Doflamingo - runs down the steps to greet his nephew, but slips and falls spectacularly, bumping his butt on at least three steps before landing awkwardly on his knees.

Your hands fly to your mouth to stifle a gasp and Law shakes his head as he approaches his uncle.

“Cora… come on! Again?” He admonishes as the blonde man laughs and pats his butt.

“I'm fine, I'm fine.” Law helps him up and both men embrace. It's a long hug during which Cora whispers something to Law, who clenches his teeth and nods, hugging him back.

It's sweet. They really care for each other.

Then Cora sets his eyes on you, they glimmer as he lets go of Law and with one stride, he's by your side, exclaiming your name and holding you in a tight embrace. “Welcome, welcome! It's so nice to meet you! It's been a while since Law brought a girl home!”

Oh… Interesting. He didn't mention any other important relationship, in fact, when you were covering past flings, he told you he doesn't really do the girlfriend thing. He just dates, sometimes. But he apparently had an interesting relationship before.

However, you don't act surprised. You're pretty sure Doflamingo is watching you closely, even though he doesn't make a move to come down the steps. You'll go to him. It's as if he's the King of the mansion and you're just his loyal subjects, bowing to him.

“I'm flattered.” You smile softly as Cora steps back. “What Law and I have is special.” This was a rehearsed phrase. But you deliver it perfectly, looking lovingly at Law, who smiles back at you, his hands in his pockets and sunglasses hanging on his shirt collar.

“I believe you!” He grabs your arm to help you up the stairs, though you sense you'll be the one keeping him from falling, and then he turns to Law and mouths - in what he thinks is a veiled whisper but is anything but that - “She's breathtaking, Law! Well done!”

Law chuckles and shakes his head at his uncle but, as soon as you're all facing Doflamingo’s inquisitive gaze, Law tenses again. Cora leaves you to join his brother's side and Law is instantly connected to you, his hand on your waist, pulling you to him. You notice his fingers digging deeper and harder than any of the times he's grabbed you, but you don't acknowledge his discomfort.

“Well, well, well…” Doflamingo’s voice is deep, commanding and imposing and you can't help the way your hairs bristle when he lets out a low chuckle. “Hello dearest nephew… and how interesting.”

What is supposed to be interesting? You hope he hasn't recognized you from any of the Vinsmokes’ events! Maybe you should have shared with Law who your ex was. It seems like it's something he should know. There’s no point in worrying about it now! You can't let your distress show, especially because Law keeps tensing up by your side, so you have to ground him.

“Good to meet you, sir.” You drawl, a bit embarrassed at the way his piercing gaze hasn't left you since the moment you arrived.

“Oh,” he chuckles again and this time looks at Law, a terrifying grin showing all his teeth. “Polite.” He nods and turns back to you, slightly raising his chin to emphasise your height difference. “Good girl.” He purrs and winks.

What?

You immediately tense up and Law squeezes your waist harder.

“Uncle Doffy, we're really tired from the trip and the car ride. We'll retire and freshen up before dinner. Then we can get to know each other, how about that?” You can sense a slight change in the tone of Law's voice. What was commanding and assertive is now strained and measured. The crease in his forehead is deep and his scowl twists his expression.

“But of course! Come on, come on kids! Let me take you to your room!” Cora takes over as some servants bring in your luggage.

Law starts to walk, dragging you with him and he brushes his lips against your temple in what's supposed to be a loving gesture. His whisper is barely audible: “Relax.” You glance behind and catch Doflamingo still tilting his head. His grin is unsettling and disconcerting and, for the first time since you agreed to do this for Law, you start to doubt yourself. “Real or not, I won't let him hurt you.”

You don't know if he means physically or mentally. Either way, you're not prepared to suffer any attempt. And the way Law says that… It's like he already knows Doflamingo will do something. And that frightens you.

Yet you take a deep breath and try to relax as Law guides you through large maze-like corridors, following Cora until you reach a big white door with golden handles. His uncle opens the door with a smile. “Ta-da!” He exclaims, opening both arms to show you the room.

You stifle a gasp and turn it into a surprised expression. Law squeezes you tighter and smiles at his uncle.

“It's the honeymoon suite for you two lovebirds!” He chuckles and scratches the back of his head. “Well, not quite, we're not a hotel, so it's not really a honeymoon suite, it's a room with some amenities like a jacuzzi in the bathroom and privacy from the other rooms so you can… you know,” He chuckles some more, “talk as loudly as you want without being heard.”

Law groans at his uncle but a tentative chuckle escapes your lips at his attempt to lighten the mood. Your amusement is short-lived, however, as you survey the room. It might be private and away from the other rooms, but it's not that big. There's a huge bed and two cushioned armchairs, a closet, a vanity and a desk. No couch. Just one bed. For both of you.

At least it's a big bed.

“Thank you, Cora. We've got it from here.” Law smiles softly at his uncle and thanks the staff who brought in your luggage. When everyone leaves, he closes the door softly, leaning against it and briefly closing his eyes.

You take a deep breath and set your purse on one of the armchairs. “Well that was intense.”

Law's chuckle starts low and quickly turns into a groan as he looks at you. “I'm sorry, but I can guarantee you he will be much more inconvenient.”

You snort and roll your eyes. “Is that even possible?”

“Trust me, it is.”

You both laugh away the tension of the meeting and, after a brief time, as you're hanging your dresses in the closet, you speak again. “Your uncle Cora is lovely.”

Law is in the bathroom emptying his bag of products on the counter. “He's amazing. He's like a father to me.”

“I could tell.” You mutter. “What are the plans for tonight?”

Law senses the slight tremble in your voice as his head peeks from the bathroom. “Oh? Why? Do you need to rehearse everything beforehand?”

A sigh escapes your lips as you close the closet door to face him. “Considering Doflamingo is breathing down our necks, perhaps it's not a bad idea?”

“It's just a family dinner. Baby 5 will come too, along with the groom. Possibly the groomsmen, bridesmaids and some of Doffy’s associates. I bailed on the last board meeting and I'm pretty sure he'll want to bore me to death with company issues. Also, I predict that Doffy will ask personal questions while Cora will want to know if and when we'll get married and if and when we're gonna have kids.”

Law joins you in the room and you smile at him. “Cora is really sweet.”

Raising an eyebrow, an amused glint dances in his gaze. “Should I be jealous?” His voice drops lower and a snicker curls your lip as a consequence of that. You're feeling bratty.

“Maybe. I do like blondes.” Law grunts, reading immediately into what you're trying to do. “And he's so tall and big. I'm sure he'd make me feel small and-...” Law takes two strides, pushing you gently and pinning you against the closet door. One of his hands rests on the closet beside your head, while the other grabs your chin tightly, tilting it up so you can meet his eyes. “Weak…” You finish your sentence, cheeks already flushed and ablaze.

Law's eyes glint with mischief, but his lips are pursed tight. He uses the hand near your head to brush your earring.

The signal.

“Do I have to remind you of who you belong to?” His voice drawls from his lips, his face is so close that you can feel his hot breath against your skin.

Your fingers graze his earring lightly to use the signal, but his low hum warns you to return your hand where it was. No teasing is allowed on your part. “I was just commenting on how handsome and charming he is. I have eyes.” You know you're playing a part, you know it's fake, but you have no audience. This is for yourselves only. And you can't help the tiny sliver of anxiety tugging at your brain, telling you to keep pushing. Push enough so you can let go.

So you can surrender. You need to surrender.

Law's eyes darken as he presses his body closer to you. You can feel his heat against you, but the fire in his eyes burns ten times hotter.

“You do, but they have to be on me all the time. You don't want to misbehave, do you, sweetheart?” His lips brush the skin of your collarbone, the hand on your chin tilts your head to the side as he nibbles your jaw, his tongue wet and teasing.

Fuck. This is what you wanted, right? Now you have to deal with it.

“You know what happens to bad girls?” His hand lowers as he traces down the middle of your breasts, trailing to your belly, dropping down some more - so close to where you want him, but you know he won’t touch - and then settles on your hip.

“What?” You whisper, dying to know, anticipation making you tremble and shiver.

Or is it his touch that's doing that?

“They don't get what they want.” His teeth graze your earlobe. “They don't get what they need.” His hand raises your dress, fingers curling the fabric as his palm settles against your thigh, eliciting a choked moan from your lips. “They don't get what they crave.” His lips hover yours and you lean forward to capture them but he moves his head back, tutting you in a disapproving manner.

“No, no, sweetheart. No kiss for you. You're being a brat.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as you squirm and press your thighs together. There's a fire burning in your belly that needs to be put out; a devastating thirst that needs quenching.

“I can beg, Law. I can be a good girl.”

Fuck, where did this come from?

The sound he makes is half-grunt, half-growl and it reverberates through his chest, making you gasp as you grab his neck, trying to pull him in for a kiss, trying to erase what your mouth said that your brain doesn't want to acknowledge. However, Law is faster, and stronger. His hands grab yours, pinning them above your head. One big hand of his is enough to hold your wrists, and he's barely using his strength.

He shows you that slightly unhinged grin of his and you mewl at the sight, biting your lower lip. That grin right there, you realise, it's your favourite. “You say one thing sweetheart, and then you do another. We can't have that, can we?”

You shake your head, your eyes pleading for your mouth. Law's free hand returns to your side, he lowers it tantalisingly slowly as his thumb brushes circles on your dress, but his fingers burn so much that it's like they're pressing directly on your skin.

“I told you that bad girls don't get rewarded.” He practically purrs against your ear. He does something sinful with his tongue on your earlobe and you close your eyes in abandon, arching your back and giving way to a wanton moan. His hand clenches your wrists tighter as his unholy tongue continues to tease you. He licks your neck and collarbone, then goes lower towards your cleavage. You can't stop the pants and gasps that escape your lips, making you tremble.

There's a pressing need in your core screaming to be filled, or touched, or teased. Something, anything! But he's adamant about not fulfilling that need.

“I promise I'll be good, Law.” You whisper. “Just…” Touch me. “Kiss me. Please!”

His lips hover over yours as he slots his knee between your legs. You fight the urge to ride his thigh, to grind your core against his taut muscles. You're pretty sure you could come undone from just that. “Is this what you want?” His breath is hot against your lips, his lips barely grazing yours.

But now you know better than to push your luck. You stay still, your eyes nearly watering from the throbbing need.

“Yes! Please.” Your whisper sounds like a prayer, but he's a relentless deity and shows it by pulling back, a smirk curling his lips.

“You don't deserve it, sweetheart. You misbehaved. I warned you.” How can he be this cool and collected while you're falling apart? A mess of quivering bones and frail muscles? His hand grabs the back of your thigh, lifting your leg easily and slotting himself against you, giving you a taste, a sliver of the friction you want - need! “Bad girls are left wanting more.”

He presses further, his hand still groping the back of your thigh, fingers spreading over it. Your mind goes blank. You can feel his length pressed against you, you didn't think he'd do it, is this pushing your boundaries? He’s not touching you. And you want him there! Besides, this is fake.

Right?

But he's doing it. And you desperately want more.

“Bad girls get teased until they can't take it any more.” He bites your lower lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but just enough to jolt you and shake your senses. “If this were real, sweetheart,” he begins, his voice huskier and raspier than ever, needier even, it seems. “I would bend you to my will and have you on the brink of exhaustion, pleads and prayers escaping your lips in mewls and moans, before I took you right here, against this closet, until you begged for release between screams and cries of desperation.”

The image he paints is so real that you almost feel yourself snap, the coil within you starts to unravel as he presses just a bit further, his lips hovering just above yours, his fingers digging into the plushness of your thighs.

“But this is not real, and you've been a very good girl so far.” As his lips finally crash against yours, a soft thrust of his hip pushes him against your clothed clit. The friction of the seams on his jeans hits you just right, and you snap without any kind of warning.

Your back arches and you moan into his kiss like never before as your body clenches and squirms, your leg wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper into you. A freeing, warm sensation fills you, building like a flame, higher and higher and he takes it all. His tongue slides against yours, swallowing your moans as if he needs them to breathe. His hands grip you tight and he's still pressed flush against you.

It's all too much.

It's not enough.

And it's over too soon.

He parts the kiss and you're both left panting. Law doesn't meet your gaze as he removes his hands and composes your dress, pulling back slightly, while ensuring you can stand on your own. Clearly he overdid what he meant to do.

“Are you alright?” He asks, worry lacing his words as you struggle to catch your breath. You should feel embarrassed. You’re in a fake relationship and yet, here you stand, in post-orgasmic bliss wondering if he regrets what just happened. But you’re not ashamed, far from it. You feel free.

“Yes.” Your voice still comes out in shaky gasps, but your legs - though wobbly - manage to sustain you.

Law nods and clears his throat. “I'm… I'm going to take a shower, to get ready for dinner. Unless you want to go first?”

“No, no. You go. I… I need to choose what I’ll wear first and-... you go.”

He nods, turning away from you, walking towards the bathroom, his pace more erratic than usual.

What just happened?

|Chapter 6🔞|

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #op #the meet cute #modern day au #reader x trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #reader insert #law x reader #you x law #law x you #Spotify

112 notes · View notes