#my ally x rush things

[notonlymice]

Ally x Rush + incorrect quotes [part 3]

[illbegottenfaith]

stutter (a puzzle pieces by saint motel inspired fic)

something about you and your features reawakens theo's stutter (theo nott x reader)

a/n - LOVE how I usually naturally write in British English (for the most part) but the title of this fic is apparently the American English variant?? sorry but stammar just doesn't have the same sound as stutter and it rlly messes with the flow of my sentences lmao

tropes/warnings - fluff, theo has a stutter, tw alcohol, slightlyy mean reader? very mild tho lmao

word count - 3.2k

taglist - @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf

Theo’s stutter had never been bad exactly - just bad enough to be noticed. Bad enough to make him hesitate before speaking, bad enough to make his father sigh whenever he tripped over a word at the dinner table.

"Think before you speak," his father would say, voice clipped, disapproving. "There's no point in opening your mouth if you don't know what you're going to say."

As if Theo didn’t already try.

So he adapted. He learned to pick his words carefully, to stay quiet unless absolutely necessary, to keep his voice even and deliberate. The less he spoke, the less he had to risk tripping over his own tongue. He stopped rushing and started living his life at a careful, highly controlled pace.

Over time, with extensive help from the best speech therapists his father could find, he grew out of his stutter. By the time he was old enough to be surrounded by classmates who would’ve torn him apart for it, it was already buried beneath layers of indifference. He built himself a reputation on cool control - on quiet, dry wit and the ability to cut someone down with a single unimpressed look. He spoke when he wanted to, not when people expected him to, and that was enough to keep it from ever being a problem.

Until you.

Because for some infuriating reason, with you, it found a way to slip through the cracks.

You and Theo were like two puzzle pieces that never quite fit right.

You didn’t hate each other - not really - but it seemed like a stretch to call yourselves friends. Try as you might, your personalities seemed fundamentally disconnected. He had little patience for your sense of humour, or lack thereof in his opinion. On the bad days, you had a snarky quip ready for even his most innocent comments. It was the most maddening thing for your friends - just as seemed that the two of you had finally learned to get along, Theo would take the mickey out of you, or you would turn your nose up at his boorish antics, and the cycle would repeat.

Unfortunately (or fortunately), all of that changed two weeks ago. It had happened on a brisk Wednesday night. His dorm was fresh out of bottled water and it was too late and too cold to sneak down to the Kitchens to get some. Mattheo was keeping everyone up fretting about what-if-someone-gets-extra-thirsty-in-the-middle-of-the-night-then-what and no one could get him to shut up. Naturally, Theo had been rather unceremoniously evicted from his cosy, dry bed to fetch water from the girls’ dormitory, after a unanimous (and unfair) vote.

So there he had stood outside the girls’ dormitory, shivering, waiting for one of your friends to bring out some water. He had glared at the distorted view of the moon through the common room walls, fuming about how it already was the middle of the night and none of his roommates seemed the least bit thirsty, not that Mattheo would listen to reason.

Finally, the door had swung open, and out of the shadows peered your wan, tired face.

Maybe it was something in the way your lips twisted in displeasure as your droopy eyes struggled to stay open. For some odd, inexplicable reason, he felt a pang of regret over having woken you.

If you were slightly more awake, you might have noticed the glazed look in his eyes. But as it were, all you had done was shove a small jug into his lax hands, manually curling his fingers around the handle when his grip refused to tighten. Of course, you and your roommates were too environmentally conscious to be entertaining single-use plastic.

“Hold still,” you had muttered as you tipped your room’s jug into the smaller one, filling it up. In the pale moonlight, it had been as though he was seeing you in a completely different light for the first time, both figuratively and otherwise. You hair looked unbearably soft from the way it cascaded down your shoulders. Almost as soft as your pillowy lips, which were now parting to release a sigh. And did your skin always smell this sweet, he wondered, as you stepped closer?

“You want a cookie?” you had asked waspishly when he had kept staring at you once his jug was full. That had snapped him out of his trance. After bidding you a hasty, clipped goodnight, he had crept back down to the boy’s dormitories, head reeling, heart thudding. Before finally nodding off in the wee hours of the morning, he had put the whole thing down to sleep deprivation.

But when you looked just as adorable in your 9 am Charms lesson the next day, bags under your eyes as you poorly stifled your yawns, he knew he was well and truly fucked.

That had been two weeks ago. Now, he’d be hard pressed to muster up any real sort of annoyance over the reactions you elicited from him, knowingly or otherwise.

You were all in the Great Hall, having breakfast. Your friends were talking about some book they had read recently. Mattheo and Draco were having an arm wrestling match right over their eggs. Enzo was yammering in Theo’s ear, not that he was listening. Theo had long since learned to tune out Enzo’s chatter until lunch, when he was sufficiently awake to actually process it.

No, what he was doing was watching you - watching the way you chewed on your bottom lip instead of your breakfast, a faint crease between your eyebrows as your eyes flitted across the parchment. He cast his eyes around the table listlessly, desperately wishing for a change in topic, preferably one that had to do with you.

His prayers were soon answered. Ivy turned away from her conversation to look at you.

“How’s the essay coming along, Y/N?”

You finally peeled your eyes away from the essay you were proofreading, sliding your gaze disinterestedly to Theo and the rest of your friends. He watched your sleepy, downturned eyes momentarily rest on his, a familiar electric jolt twinging in his chest. There was no denying it - what had previously seemed uninteresting or unimaginative was now hopelessly irresistible to him.

You scowled, flipping back to the first page. “Terrible. Awful. I don’t know what possessed McGonagall to let me take N.E.W.T level Transfiguration.”

Because you’re brilliant at it, Theo wanted to say, just like how you’re brilliant at everything else.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Ivy said reasonably as you haphazardly started gathering your things.

“It is, it really is. Even worse, my guinea pig escaped so now everyone has something to practice on except me.”

“I can be your Guinea pig,” Theo murmured. Mattheo gave him a hard shove in the shoulder blade.

“What?” You distractedly pushed a lock of hair out of your face.

He grimaced, a throbbing pain now settling in his upper back. “I said,” he forced out, “serves you right. Losing your guinea pig.”

You rolled your eyes. “Charming as ever, Nott.”

You hurriedly placed a kiss on Ivy’s cheek, glowering at Theo as you walked off. Just as he opened his mouth to ask (yell) where his kiss was, Mattheo shoved a bun into his mouth.

"Real subtle, mate," he said sarcastically.

Theo shot him a glare, but the delicate flush dusting his face betrayed him. "Shut up."

Mattheo only smirked, taking a bite of his own toast. "Whatever you say."

Some nights, trouble had a face. Tonight, it was yours.

He saw you before you saw him - tucked inside an alcove at the far end of the corridor, bathed in the flickering glow of a lone torch. It was the late kind of hour when nothing good was bound to happen. A half-empty bottle of firewhiskey dangled loosely from your fingers, the deep amber liquid catching the dim light as you swirled it absentmindedly.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you like this - pushing limits just for the sake of it. It wasn't immediately apparent, but anyone who paid close enough attention would see you had a habit of toeing the line between reckless and untouchable.

He should have walked away. Should’ve let you self-destruct in peace.

But Theo was never that smart when it came to you.

"You’re not exactly being subtle," he said, stepping out of the shadows.

You didn’t jump, didn’t startle. Instead, you turned to face him with a slow, deliberate ease, like you’d been expecting him all along.

"Wasn’t trying to be."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Could’ve fooled me."

You smirked, raising the bottle in a lazy toast before taking another sip.

"What, you gonna tell on me?"

Theo scoffed. "If I wanted to get you in trouble, you'd know."

"Mm. So you’re just here to nag, then?"

"Not nagging," Theo said. "Just pointing out that if you’re going to break the rules, you should at least be smart about it."

You hummed, swaying the bottle between your fingers, humming poorly. You were definitely well past tipsy. "Smart’s overrated."

"Yeah? So’s liver failure."

That made you laugh, short and sharp, like you hadn’t expected him to be funny.

He shouldn’t have cared about that. Shouldn’t have cared that his words - his stupid, judgemental, throwaway words - had gotten a laugh out of you.

But he did. And that was the problem.

You studied him for a moment before holding out the bottle. "Want some?"

He looked at it disdainfully. "Generous."

"Hardly," you said. "Figured it might loosen you up a bit. You’re wound tight, Nott."

Theo exhaled, crossing his arms. He knew all about being tightly wound when it came to you. "Right. Because getting pissed in a dark corridor is the key to inner peace."

"You should try it sometime."

"Hard pass."

You shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Then, just to be a menace, you took another slow swill, letting your lips linger at the rim of the bottle before licking a stray drop off the corner of your mouth.

Theo didn’t react. Wouldn’t react. You weren’t doing anything special. Just drinking. Just looking at him with that same lazy amusement, like you had him all figured out.

And maybe you did. Maybe that was what rattled him.

"You’re - " He started, but his tongue tripped over the word, catching slightly before he forced it out. "You’re d-drunk."

Your drooping eyes widened fractionally. Your lips parted in your efforts to concentrate as a slight frown creased your forehead, not all that different from the one at breakfast a few days ago,

Theo felt the heat crawl up his neck before he could stop it. His mind scrambled for damage control, but the way you were watching him - head tilted, intrigued, like you were piecing something together - made it worse.

"You good?" you asked, something teasing yet concerned in your tone.

Theo cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to regain control of his rogue tongue. "Obviously," he muttered, shifting his weight.

You let the silence stretch a beat too long before raising an eyebrow.

"You sure? ‘Cause for a second there, you almost sounded - "

"Drop it," he cut in, swiping the bottle from your hands before you could protest. He took a slow sip, letting the firewhiskey burn its way down, using it as an excuse to steady himself.

You watched him succumb to the buzz of the drink. "You’re changing the subject," you noted, smirking.

"Yeah?" He felt less wired, less sober. "You’re still an idiot for doing this in the open."

You watched him lean against the wall opposite yours, eyes gleaming in the dim alcove. You let him have that one. But just as he thought you were letting it go, your gaze flicked up, sharp and knowing.

"Don’t act like you’re any better," you mused.

Theo frowned. "What?"

You nodded toward his pocket, where a cigarette pack was sticking out slightly. "Don’t you go through, like, three packs a day?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line. You had him there. "That’s not the same."

You widened your eyes mockingly. "No, you’re right. I might get liver failure in thirty years. You’re aiming for lung failure by, what - next week?"

Theo clicked his tongue, tucking the pack deeper into his pocket. "Cute."

"Not as cute as you stuttering over your words a minute ago."

Theo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I hate you."

"Sure you do," you murmured, grinning as you took back the firewhiskey.

The Slytherin common room was empty when you both stepped inside, drenched from head to toe. The fire crackled in the hearth, but the warmth did nothing to dry the water you trailed in as you stalked toward it.

Theo watched you try to wring out your sleeves with an air of great suffering, muttering something about "bloody weather conspiracies" under your breath as you peeled off some of your outer layers.

"This is all your fault," you grumbled.

Theo exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his wet hair. "Yeah? How’s that?"

"You control everything else," you shot back, flicking a few stray drops of water at him. "Figured you had a deal with the bloody sky, too."

He smirked. "Don't give me ideas."

You rolled your eyes, crouching slightly to warm your frozen hands by the fire. Your clothes clung to your frame, and Theo forced himself to look away before his thoughts could wander into dangerous territory. Instead, he shrugged off his soaked sweater and tossed it over the back of the nearest couch.

"Relax. You’ll live," he said idly.

"You better hope so," you threatened. "If I don’t, I’m haunting you forever."

Theo snorted, undoing the cuffs of his shirt.

"I don't think you have the attention span for that."

You shot him a look. "I'd find a way," you said darkly.

"Sure," he agreed sarcastically.

You huffed, standing up straight again.

"And here I was, thinking you actually liked me."

The words were meant to be teasing, flippant, meaningless. But something about them made his pulse stutter.

Maybe it was the way you said it, light and careless, like the idea was so ridiculous it wasn’t even worth entertaining. Maybe it was the way the firelight flickered against your golden skin. Maybe it was the way a stray droplet trickled down your throat, inch by agonising inch, before disappearing beneath the collar of your shirt.

Maybe it was the fact that he did actually like you.

Theo didn’t know what made him say it - either the warmth from the fire or the cold still clinging to his skin or the fact that he could feel the exhaustion of restraint pressing against his ribs. But before he could stop himself, he was opening his mouth, lips forming words he had barely formulated.

"You look - " he started, then faltered.

Shit.

His tongue tripped, his brain suddenly too slow to catch up. He could feel the syllable stuck in his throat, unable to escape, the word stuttering into nothing.

"Y-you l - l -"

Silence.

"Oh, my god," you murmured, slow and smug, realisation dawning on your face.

Theo exhaled sharply, his stomach twisting as he tried to force his expression into something impassive, something cool, something...unaffected. In short, he tried attempting what was an impossible feat when your very features were enough to leave him dizzy.

A wicked smile unfurled across your face. He wasn’t getting out of this alive, was he?

"Do you not know how to talk?" you demanded, eyes glittering with suppressed mirth. "Is this your first day on planet Earth?"

Theo clenched his jaw, crossing his arms in a futile attempt to feign indifference. "Shut up."

You refused to let up. "No, really. What was that? You looked - what? What do I look like, Theo? Enlighten me."

He forced himself to roll his eyes as his fingers curled into his sleeves. "You’re insufferable."

"J-j-j-j - " You stuttered mockingly, eyes alight with mischief. "What are you, an idiot? Does your tongue need rewiring?"

Theo should’ve turned away, should’ve thrown himself onto the couch and forced himself to think about literally anything else. But he couldn’t help it.

He watched you - watched the way you grinned to yourself, watched the way your fingers twisted in the fabric of your damp clothes, watched the way you were so completely and utterly oblivious to the way you made his mind unravel.

It wasn’t just attraction. It wasn’t just the heat in his chest or the feeling in his bones or the fact that his name sounded so damn good dripping off your honeyed lips while you teased him.

It was everything.

It was the way you filled every empty space like you belonged there, like you’d always belonged there. It was the way your laughter lived in his head rent-free, the way you made even the most infuriating drivel you spouted feel like something he couldn't bear to go without. It was the fact that no matter how much you poked and prodded, no matter how ruthlessly or relentlessly you mocked him - he still wanted you. Desperately.

He should be embarrassed. The Theo of a few years ago would have been - would’ve burned with the humiliation, would’ve clenched his fists at the reminder of all the times he’d stood in front of his father, struggling to string together a coherent sentence under the weight of that unimpressed gaze.

But you were different. He could hear it in your voice, buried beneath the teasing - the unmistakable warmth, the absolute delight you took in making fun of him. Not because you wanted to humiliate him, but because it amused you. It endeared him to you. Because you liked getting under his skin.

And, Merlin help him, he liked that you liked it.

"Go on," you continued mockingly, roughly drying your hair with a towel, still oblivious to Theo watching you like you hung the stars and moon. "Careful with the big words, now."

Theo just stood there, staring at you, utterly gone. He wasn’t even trying to school his expression anymore.

When you finally looked up from drying yourself, your teasing faltered ever so slightly at the look in his eyes.

You blinked. “What?”

Theo shook his head, leaning against the wall thoughtfully.

“Nothing.”

You stilled. Because for the first time, you actually noticed. Theo wasn’t scowling. He wasn’t enduring your teasing with quiet exasperation.

He was watching you with something softer - something warmer, something dangerously close to adoration. It lingered in the lines of his face, in the almost-smile playing at his lips, in the flicker of fondness he couldn’t quite suppress fast enough before your eyes met his.

You stared back, speechless. Theo swallowed, tearing his gaze away, turning sharply as if shaking himself out of it.

"You should dry off before you actually get sick," he muttered, forcing his voice into something steady.

You stared at him for half a second longer, something unreadable in your expression.

"Right," you finally said, clearing your throat.

Neither of you acknowledged the moment for what it was. But the resurgence of Theo's stutter remained a secret kept only between the two of you.

[milla-frenchy]

In the cold night

3k1 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: being on patrol, Joel and you spend the cold winter night together in a small house

Warnings: 18+ mdni. mention of a past SA attempt (not by Joel), protective!joel, feral!joel saving reader, friends to lovers, one bed, soft!joel, praise kink, masturbation (f), thighs rubbing, oral (f), piv. No age specified

a/n: this is written for @justagalwhowrites 's “Joel Miller birthday celebration”. I chose Jackson!Joel/one bed- Thank you for this event 🙏 Thank you @arcanefox207 for the gif in the mood board ❤️ Please, check out the full gif here and some others, they are stunning 😍 Thank you, Ally 🙏❤️ @aurorawritestoescape thank you as always for beta-ing, baby 💕🫶 dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

The crunch of your footsteps in the snow echoes in your head. Two rabbits are hanging from Joel’s back, clinging to his shoulder. His brown jacket has lost its shine long, long time ago, and the leather is frayed at the elbows and sleeves. Every time you pass him, the smell of old leather rushes into your nostrils. A reassuring, familiar scent.

You’re heading to an outpost, as you have done so many times before. You know each other's reflexes by heart, the way your bodies tense in case of danger, the glances that make speech useless. You no longer count the number of infected you have killed during patrols.

You look around a small wooden house. Searching for footprints, anything that might put you on alert. You scan the area, whether for infected, or worse- hunters or raiders.

You feel safe with Joel, ever since the day he snatched you from the hands of raiders. Two dirty, skinny men. They surprised you, during one of your first long patrols. They knocked Joel out, and dragged you on an old mattress of the shelter you just arrived at. They did not even pay attention to the dead duck that you planned to eat that evening. In this world, with some men, food is not the first thing they crave. 

You punched one of them, then tried to grab your knife, but two men were too much to handle. When they threw you onto the mattress, you struggled, screaming, biting, then one held your arms while the other removed your pants. Tears obstructed your view. You would have preferred to be bitten by an infected, rather than that. 

Just as the first man was about to lie down between your thighs while you were crying with rage, you heard a dull, cold, unexpected noise. A knife thrown from the opposite side of the room, just stuck in the skull of the man, holding your arms. As soon Joel threw the knife, he rushed to rip the man off your body, and then punched him so many times that his face got swollen from the blows and turned unrecognizable.

“Piece o’shit!” Joel growled from the depths of his chest. You looked at him, still half in shock at what had almost happened to you, feeling relieved. The man was lying on the ground, barely breathing. Joel let go of his collar and retrieved the knife from the second man’s skull. He pressed the tip of the blade against his heart and slowly pushed it in, his dark gaze fixed on the man’s. The raider’s feet twitched for a few moments, before they froze for eternity.

Then Joel rushed over to you and covered you with an old blanket pulled from the foot of the bed. As soon as he sat down on the mattress, his worried eyes fixed on you, you wrapped your arms around his waist. Wanting to forget your fear, to curl up against his reassuring presence. He took you in his arms, rocking you slowly, holding you close to him.

“ ‘m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear them coming, because of my damn bad ear.”

“It’s ok, Joel, it’s ok. They didn’t do anything to me,” you muffled in his chest.

“No it’s not. They did way too much. But I got you, now. I got you. Won’t happen again. Not on my watch.”

He held you against him for several minutes, patiently, one hand caressing your back, the other resting on the nape of your neck, until you stopped crying. He then asked if you were feeling a little better, if he could get the bodies out of the outpost. He didn’t want you to see them anymore. You nodded, watched him as he dragged the bodies out into the surrounding woods. 

He was sitting next to you until you fell asleep. He stood guard all night, staring at the shadows of the trees through the window, letting you rest.

From that day on, you knew that nothing would happen to you as long as you were with Joel. He was the type of man who, when he said something, stuck to it. He was reliable, loyal, and serious. He was your patrol partner, and you couldn't have asked for a better one.

Once you reach the shelter, you prepare the fire in the hearth of the old fireplace, while Joel goes around this old house, half buried under the snow. It is the first time that you patrol here in the middle of winter, and the walls and the ground are icy. You eat one of the rabbits, trying in vain to warm yourself by the fire. As you get ready to go to bed, Joel puts a blanket on the floor.

“What are you doing, Joel? You can't sleep there. You're gonna freeze and die, it’s too cold!”

“There's only one bed, sweetheart. Ain't gonna sleep with you.”

“Of course you're gonna sleep with me. Come on, Joel, don't be silly. We can share the bed, we have to keep each other warm or the next patrol will find our two skeletons in this damn house.”

“Jesus, you’re so stubborn! Alright then.”

You smile, thinking that you had never met someone as stubborn as him, and if he hadn't noticed your slightly blue lips, he probably wouldn't have changed his mind.

You undress and slip under the thin blankets, wearing your t-shirt and panties. Grimacing at the contact with the cold and damp covers. He joins you in the small bed, and even though warmth radiates from his body, your teeth still chatter.

“Christ, you're freezing. C’mere, I’ll keep you warm,” he says, as you take off your t-shirt and he discards his too, leaving only his boxers.

“Told you we had to sleep in the same damn bed… and I'm the stubborn one?”

He chuckles, and takes you in his arms, his chest pressed against your back.

“Better, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, you’re as warm as a boiler. How is that possible? Icicles are practically falling off these blankets.”

“Alright, you’re exaggerating a bit, don’t you think?”

You scoff and muffle a laugh, then fall asleep.

You wake up during the night, Joel's light snoring in your ear. His arms are still around you and you're much less cold. His scent surrounds you. You shift slightly, putting the blanket that had slipped back on both of you. The movement makes him mumble in his sleep and you smile, getting ready to fall back asleep, until you feel him twitch against you. His cock, asleep until then, has just woken up in his boxers when your ass brushed against it.

You open your eyes suddenly. It’s been a long time since you felt a body- a hard cock - against you. You try to move away from him a little, to not wake him up, to not create awkwardness between you. But he holds you tighter against him, letting out a sigh of contentment when his cock finds its place against your ass again.

You get a rush of arousal and you're not sure if you'll be able to fall back asleep. Your walls are contracting painfully, calling for a release of the pressure from your crotch. You close your eyes, placing your hand under the pillow. Trying to think of something else, until his cock jerks again. Once, twice. There’s no way you’re gonna be able to fall back asleep. 

So you think that maybe, if you do it discreetly, you can make yourself come. Even though he's lying against you, his chest against your back.

You slide your hand south, slowly, so as not to wake him, and start brushing your swollen folds through your panties. But it's not enough. You slide your hand under the hem, finally whirling your clit under your finger. Joel growls against your ear and you freeze for a few moments, until his breathing becomes calm, steady. Gently, you stroke yourself, finally starting to feel the fire in your crotch calm down a little.

You vaguely feel his nose brush your hair, not paying much attention to it, thinking he does it in his sleep. Then you feel his hand slowly slide down your arm, and you jerk, hastily removing your fingers from your panties, realizing that Joel is awake and that he has caught you.

“It’s ok, sweetheart,” he whispers softly in your ear in his sleepy voice, taking your hand and gently bringing it back to your pussy.

You feel the heat reach your cheeks and think about getting up, but you're too ashamed to face him. There had never been any sexual tension between the two of you. You're what you could call friends, in this lost world. You trust each other, he told you about Sarah, you told him about your late husband and son. You trust each other, and honestly, you never thought about him as more than a friend. And you don't want to ruin your friendship.

“I just want you to feel good.”

You stay silent for a few moments. Thinking about what he's telling you. You know he's sincere. 

You feel your clit pulsing and you bite your lip.

“Ok, Joel,” you breathe out. 

You're unsure of what will happen between the two of you after, but you let him lead your hand and slide your fingers under your soaked panties. You're already moaning at the first touch and you feel your nipples hardening. 

Delicately, the tips of his fingers pressed against yours, you let him lead the dance and travel through your folds. Then he slides both your hands into your panties, and makes you touch yourself so delicately, as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, that new moans escape you.

“Keep going, Joel, please…”

He hums, grazing your ear with his nose. You hear his breathing deepen, then he presses his forehead against your shoulder blade, still using your finger to brush your clit. You feel your pussy dripping. The fact that he is using your fingers, so perfectly, is perhaps the most sensual thing you have ever done.

You feel his cock stuck in his boxers harden even more as he keeps touching you. You crave to feel him against you, without any fabric between your bodies. You forget your shyness, your reserve, your worries.

“Would you… pull down your boxers? So I can feel you?*

“Of course, sweetheart.” He lets go of your hand to pull down his underwear. His hard cock springs out and this time you feel it fully against you. Big, hard.

“Between my thighs, please…”

He kisses your back and grabs his cock, slides it into this tight space, then comes to rest against your fingers again, in your panties. You slowly move your pelvis back and forth, rubbing yourself against his shaft.

“Christ, sweetheart… Feeling you against me, like that…”

“I know, Joel. It’s… good, really good.”

You no longer remember your fear that this will change things between you. The feeling is too good, too powerful, to think about anything else.

His shaft slides easily between your thighs, your pussy soaking him continuously.

“You’re so wet for me, baby”, he whispers in your ear, and a new flow trickles from your walls. His free hand caresses your shoulder, then he kisses it. You feel his mustache brush your skin, and your moans fill the room.

“You’re gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

“Fuck… fuck yeah, I'm gonna come, Joel.”

He keeps playing with your fingers with the same rhythm, feeling that you are close. Your mind goes blank. You only think about the pressure growing inside you, ready to explode.

“Come on baby, be a good girl for me,” he murmurs.

The orgasm washes over you, and you arch your back under its power, your ass pressed against Joel’s crotch. “Always such a good girl for me,” he praises, holding you against him, your hand in his, until your jerks stop.

Your breathing slowly goes down. “Damn”, you say. “That was so hot.”

“It was,” he smiles, kissing your shoulder. He doesn't ask for more, doesn't put any pressure on you, but you need more. You need your bodies to be one. You don't think too much about it, then add quickly, “Joel… I need to…” before shyness overwhelms you again, and he asks softly “tell me, baby. What do you need?”

The soft tone of his voice reassures you, and you add “I need to feel you… I need to feel you inside me.”

“Turn around, sweetheart. Lemme look at you.”

You do as he says, and face him. You barely see his face in the darkness of the night. Just enough to perceive the intensity in his gaze, behind his usual sweetness with you, as he strokes your cheek gently with his thumb.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod, of course. Ready to take whatever he wants to give you. His warm lips land on yours and press against them. You hear him take a deep breath, then his nose rubs yours. He kisses you again, with more intensity, and sensations you thought forgotten forever jostle throughout your whole being. His tongue tastes your lips, then slides between them and finds yours. He moans as your hand grabs his shaft softly, wet with his precum and your desire. You jerk him off slowly as you continue to make out. He's big. So big. But you don't wonder if your body can accept it, after all this time. You know it will. And you know Joel will be soft. You nestle his cock at your entrance after pushing your panties aside, murmuring “I wanna feel you,” your forehead against his.

You tilt your pelvis forward and his tip slides inside you, making you hold your breath for a few moments.

“You’re ok?”

“Yeah. I just have to… get used to it.” 

He doesn’t move and lets you handle the rhythm. You kiss him again, and you feel your pussy dripping, eager to be filled. You put your hand on the back of his neck and squeeze his bicep with the other, sliding further down his shaft. Your walls spread as you glide on his tip and again, you feel that forgotten feeling. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, nipples tense. Your hand runs through his neck, and you feel his prominent veins under your fingers. 

“Oh my god,” you whine, when he is fully inside you. You pull back then push forward again, to reassure his worried eyes on you. You are so wet that the sounds echo in your ears and the whole room. Joel holds you against him, gently, sensually. One hand on your hip, the other on your back.

“Joel?” you ask.

“Tell me, sweetheart.”

“Can you lie down on me? I'd like to feel you deeper.”

He caresses your cheek and tells you yes, of course.

You lie on your back and he removes your panties, kneeling between your thighs.

And he looks at you, from your face to your cunt. "You're beautiful," he says. His stare stops there, then he glances at you. As if he was asking you silently if he could taste you. You nod and he settles between your thighs, spreading your folds with his fingers.

“You're so wet for me, baby,” he adds, before licking your pussy in a long stroke. Pointing his tongue at your clit, then running over your folds again. Your knees are bent, legs spread as wide as possible. His head moves between your offered thighs, your hands lost in his curls, while his tongue laps at your dripping pussy. He pushes two fingers in your core, and places his lips around your clit, sucking it. Then swirls it under his tongue, while his fingers thrust in at a perfect, regular pace.

“Joel,” you whimper. “I'm gonna come again.”

Your nails tighten on his scalp as you come on his tongue, your walls squeezing uncontrollably around his two fingers. He pulls them out and replaces them with his tongue, drinking in everything that flows from you. The feeling is so strong, forgotten for so long, that you feel like you're going to burst into tears. But he stops, careful not to overwhelm you, and lies down between your thighs. He places his hand on your cheek and searches for your eyes before pushing his tip into you with his other hand, eyes lowered to you.

“Damn sweetheart,” he breathes. “You feel so good around me.”

His words envelop you and lull you. His voice is low, calm, as slow and sweet as the rhythm in which he sinks into you.

All his weight is on you and you have never felt so safe in your entire life. His arms surround you as you kiss. Your hands roam the top of his body. His arms, his shoulders, his back, his cheeks, his neck. His cock slides inside you, pushing your walls in the most perfect way with each thrust. Your knees are spread wide to welcome him between your thighs. He straightens up, leaning on one hand, and looks at you. Looks into your eyes filled with desire.

He watches your neck throbbing. Your chest heaving.

He watches where his cock is digging into you.

“I'm not gonna last. Can you give me one more, baby?”

“Yeah, it's... yes.”

He lies back on you, eyes locked on yours, and slides his arms under your shoulders. Your hot, sweaty chests rub against each other. He doesn't take his eyes off you as he thrusts into you, his shaft rubbing exactly where you need it. Your fingers dig into his flesh as you come on his shaft and he stops moving. Eager to keep watching you twitch beneath him, but trying not to come too. Not yet, not inside you. He wants to let you come until the shaking stops. 

He looks at you, and focuses on a mole, chosen at random. To focus on something else, than your pussy perfectly squeezing him. When your trembling finally stops, he grabs his cock hastily, just in time before his cum coats the inside of your thighs and your lower stomach, then his heavy body rests against yours.

“Christ, sweetheart… that was amazing,” he says, smiling at you. You kiss and then nestle against his chest. You feel his heart beat hard, then gradually calm down. You fall asleep without even realizing it.

When you wake up, it’s daylight. The smell of coffee rushes into your nostrils. For a moment, it’s like life is almost normal.

You sit up in bed, holding the blanket against you.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says. Smiling, warm. Joel.

You smile back at him, thinking that you would like to wake up next to him every single day, from now on. 

Thank you for reading 🙏

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[swordgrace]

𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ gwayne hightower x wife!reader.

SYNOPSIS: After your husband returns from Rook’s Rest, mostly unscathed, you are quick to indulge him to make up for lost time.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anon.

{ WORD COUNT: 5.1K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), first time writing for gwayne, please be gentle, gwayne is very cunt-struck in this fic, sub-ish gwayne, armor removal descriptions, mild wound tending, making out, both of them are desperate, unprotected sex, p in v sex, bathtub sex, riding (fem on top), handjob, oral sex (fem!rec), hair pulling kink, choking, breast play, cockwarming at the end

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I absolutely adore Gwayne and I felt like this was a really good way to warm up and get used to writing for him! I’m really glad that I’m seeing more Gwayne requests, this was ridiculously fun to write! ❤️ Thank you all so much for your love & continued support, it means more to me than you realize!

At the precipice of the gates of the Red Keep, emerald banners flew, embellished with the golden sigil of a dragon — the King’s dragon, laying half-deceased in the Dragonpit and the King himself, ripped apart and scorched beyond recognition.

A horrible thing, to be sure — your sister-by-law had become miserable and despondent when the news of her son’s maiming reached her. Whatever comfort you attempted to offer had been dismissed, but it was commonplace, not that you minded. You understood her desire to be left alone.

It was a cloudy, dismal day, marked by the overcast of gray and gloom, a dour portrait that only seemed furthered by the King’s potential demise. Rook’s Rest was outwardly displayed as some great victory, a vanquishing of Queen Rhaenyra’s forces and her allies.

Yet, the countenance of your Knight Hightower told a different tale altogether.

Becoming betrothed and wed to Ser Gwayne Hightower had been the hallmark of your family’s importance, a union of prosperity to further your standing in the realm, but it meant more to you than that. Gwayne had grown on you with the passage of time, witty and sharp-tongued, a proficient fighter with a calm rationality.

As the gates swung open to welcome those survivors of Rook’s Rest home, you desperately searched for the velveteen tabard and copper mane, wringing your hands together beside the Queen Dowager.

His armor glistened beneath the sheen of clouds, dingy and speckled with cruor and mud, his visage stained in dried crimson and soot. He was so comely and debonair, yet he seemed rather sour when he dismounted from his gelding, swiftly tugging his helmet aside.

Your feet moved before you could summon any logical thought, rushing to him across the Keep’s courtyard and into his expectant embrace. Plate-clad arms held you close as he inhaled a gust of your scent, marigold and honey, just as saccharine as he remembered. “My love.” He sighed, loud enough for only you to hear.

Before you could cage him within your own embrace, he let out a strenuous grunt, attempting to be subtle with the painful noise. “Husband,” It delighted you to see his face again — it had been weeks. “Are you hurt?” You fussed, brows knitting together as you inspected him for any critical wounds.

Gwayne bore the scars of battle beneath, save for the cut upon his lip and bruising around his cheek. His body was undeniably sore, riddled in bruises from falling, muscles aching from wielding a blade and weeks on the road. “You needn’t worry yourself into a stupor, dearest. I will survive.” He sighed.

“You do understand that it will only prompt me to worry more, instead of less.” Begrudgingly, Gwayne decided to let you dote over him — he quite enjoyed the attention whenever you did. “Perhaps we shall draw you a bath, and a proper meal to accompany it.”

Relief settled within his features, knowing that he would be well cared-for. He counted on you to ensure that he was pampered after every conflict — it was a habit you had developed. Despite the dull throbbing that consumed his body, he offered his forearm to you, delighted to have you at his side again.

He was rather captivating in his armor, shimmering and broad, a true Knight of the realm. Despite the tarnish and wear of his plate, he still seemed flawless, as if he were incapable of possessing any imperfections.

The Red Keep loomed overhead as many soldiers fought to lick their wounds, much of it from the angry bite of dragonfire. Gwayne was fortunate to remain mostly unscathed, aside from his pride. He could not stomach another day with Criston Cole, whose overconfidence often felt like a burden.

The sight of men being obliterated into nothing more than ash and bone was a harrowing sight, one that he desperately attempted to purge from his memory. It was good to be here with you, holding you again, giving him a worthwhile distraction.

Gwayne sought the solace and sanctity of your shared chambers within the Keep, but he missed Oldtown above all. Your marital quarters there far outweighed those here in the capital in terms of lavishness and comfort, but whatever lodgings offered to him now, he wouldn’t refuse. A feathered bed and pillow seemed heavenly after weeks of sleeping on rock and coarse rags.

Pale cerulean hues appraised you with a subtle hunger, finding the supple curves of your physique through the sage silk of your gown. Once you were in private corridors, he made his desire known, manifesting it into reality. “I must say, you look rather fetching, my dear.” Gwayne hummed. “Did you know of my return?”

“Perhaps,” Countering his flirtation with a teasing smile of your own, you gently nudged past the set of heavy oaken doors, making your way into your chambers. The servants there acted at your beck and call as you had them prepare a bath. “Perhaps I simply prefer to wear lavish silks each day.”

With a bemused scoff, Gwayne ogled you through half-lidded eyes, and as soon as the doors slammed shut behind you, he coaxed you in for a kiss. His mouth tasted like the bitter sting of copper coupled with brimstone and woodland musk, but you didn’t care in the slightest.

He cared little for prying eyes, desiring to claim your mouth for himself — it had been far too long. Passion and want were interlaced into each stroke of his lips, and you matched his caliber of desire, palms seeking to perch themselves atop his chest.

Gwayne exhaled, savoring your saccharine taste, the insatiable warmth of your pliant mouth. “I missed your mouth, wife,” He groaned, pearlescent teeth greedily capturing your lower lip as he caged you in against him. His blood ran hot even still, the adrenaline of war still lingering, yet you spurred him on. “Perfect as ever.”

“Gwayne,” His eagerness surprised you, but it wasn’t unwelcome, not in the slightest. “What about the servants?” You mumbled, skin crawling with heat as he insistently tugged you closer, auburn brows furrowing together.

A twinge of desperation followed from your Knight-husband, watching as he palmed at the swell of your hips. “What of them?” He murmured, caring little for the wandering eyes of handmaidens. They were like a flock of hens, squabbling after any scrap of gossip. “Surely, you would not deny your husband a kiss.”

“I would, if my husband vexed me.” You were able to both get a rise out of Gwayne and charm him all in the same turn, turning your head at the last moment. His mouth fell against your cheek instead, much to his disgruntlement. You would make it up to him.

Once the servants finished pouring a bath for your husband and preparing a hearty meal that transcended field rations, Gwayne felt as if he could relax, the tension in his shoulders unfurling. He stepped toward the washroom, unceremoniously falling against one of the velvet-cushioned chairs.

The wooden frame groaned in protest, rickety and barely able to bear the weight of his armor. He tossed his head back, finally able to breathe and relax within the sanctuary of his own quarters. No muddied tent above his head or the swaying of trees, no rancorous men, and no Dornishmen to tell him what to do.

With a steady exhale, he began to unfasten the innumerable amount of buckles and straps upon his armor, beginning with his gauntlets and vambraces. His brow remained creased with concentration, strands of copper stresses glued to his temples, lip curled with inklings of mild irritation.

“Would you like help?” You inquired, knowing that Gwayne would be too stubborn to accept it, but you were pleasantly surprised when he became subservient. With an indignant huff, he sat back, sluggishly offering you his body with a low hum.

“If you feel that you must toil over my armor, I suppose you can lend your assistance,” Gwayne prattled on, though his breath hitched slightly when you neared him, standing in between his legs as you went about freeing him. Cerulean hues traced over your form, desperate to see your naked flesh. “Hm.”

His quick tongue and eloquent speech once irked you, but now, it was simply him. You rather enjoyed when he regaled you with his flowery words and streak of arrogance, a haughtiness that seemed to run predominantly within his family.

As you set yourself to the task of unburdening your husband from his armor, Gwayne busied himself with ogling your bosom, jaw tense and tight. A warm coil formed within his stomach, the onset of arousal as he carefully admired you, his enchanting paramour.

Unclasping his cloak, Gwayne shifted enough for you to remove it, neatly folding it into a rectangle as you draped it over the arm of the lounge. “I missed you,” You confessed, knowing that his ego would momentarily swell tenfold — it was simply in his nature. “These past few weeks were rather tense, wrought with strife.”

“Allow me to guess,” Gwayne guffawed, a smirk toying at either corner of his mouth. “Something to do with my nephews, or perhaps my sister.” Admittedly, you were lonely without him — the capital didn’t suit you, nor did any of its hostile inhabitants.

A soft huff of amusement escaped you, but you happened to shake your head, lifting a wet cloth to his lips as you dabbed at the dried blood. “One would think,” With an amiable smile, you rid your husband’s stunning visage of cruor. “I yearned to have my husband by my side, that is all.”

Gwayne’s gaze became soft in your presence, fluttering across your captivating features and gentle smile. Knowing that you missed him happened to evoke some semblance of delight, filling him with a familiar warmth that eased his aching bones.

“I am here now,” He assured, reaching for your hand as he cradled it within his own. Rough lips pressed themselves against your knuckles. “You shall have your husband for as long as you please.”

Stepping inward, your lips moved to bury themselves into his disheveled tresses, presenting him with a kiss. You always feared Gwayne riding off to fight in a war, coming to terms with the painful idea of never seeing him again. “As long as I please? That is forever, then. Cole cannot take you from me again.”

You were an excellent wife, perhaps the best — he had gotten incredibly lucky with you, a rare jewel, resplendent and glittering all for him, something to covet. He watched as you unfastened the leather straps with haste, placing each piece down atop the footlocker at your side.

Gwayne winced when you happened to tug just a touch too hard, body wracked with aches and pains, pale flesh flourishing with the wounds of war. “Gently, wife. I am still needed in one piece.” A low grunt tore past his lips, one that happened to come across as a suppression of mild agony.

Perplexed, you reached for the collar of his gorget, attempting to be as gentle as possible in its removal. It was difficult, given how much he wore — plate and chainmail weren’t exactly comfortable to wear. The relief he felt was visible, scrawled into his handsome features as he reclined into the cushions.

Broad-shouldered and corded with taut muscle, you often found Gwayne to be beautiful in some ways, painfully handsome to behold. When you’d gotten rid of his upper armor, you noticed the battlefield of flourishing bruises littered across his flesh.

The somber, softened stare you’d given him happened to temper his tongue, copper brows beginning to slack, visage contorting into more of a concerned expression. “They do not feel as horrid as they look,” He assured, smoothing his palm across the swell of your hip. “Such is the nature of battle.”

With a tender hand, you lightly traced your fingertips over each bruise, some angered and dark, others lighter in complexion. Gwayne shuddered at your delicate embrace, bluish hues glued to where your hand traveled — over his throat, toward his collarbone, and then cascading across his chest.

“Where does it hurt, my love?” The silky resonance of your voice stroked his mind in a perfect way, one that brought him to heel. Your doting attention happened to subdue him, cock stirring in the confines of his linen breeches.

He often pondered what went on in that beautiful head of yours, the way your mind operated. You were an intelligent woman, thoughtful and poised with a comely grace, becoming of a maiden. Gwayne swallowed the growing lump within his throat, feeling your palm smooth across the plate of his cuisse.

“Here,” He briefly motioned to the series of marks tangled along his collarbone — he was fortunate that it hadn’t been shattered. You stooped inward, mouth carefully hovering above the ugly bruises dotted along his collar, and kissed the injured flesh. “Hm — here.” Gwayne tapped his right pectoral.

You kissed where his hand gestured to, pliant lips akin to a gentle caress as you showered him in your sensual affections. Enraptured, Gwayne watched you, hunger swelling within him, a ravenous gnawing that he felt for you. It burned his loins, filling him with the ache of desire.

If it weren’t for his damned tasses and greaves, he would’ve had you slotted in his lap. Gwayne’s hands tightened around the back of the settee, digits curling into the wooden embellishments. “That’s all?” You murmured, gingerly caressing along his chest, watching as he immediately straightened.

Gwayne grit his teeth together, motioning toward his bruised bicep. “Here,” The soothing softness of your mouth soon followed, filling him with a warm rush of dull ecstasy. You kissed his bicep, peppering your lips upward until they landed atop his shoulder. “Here.” At last, he motioned to his mouth, marred by a cut.

“Here?” With a gentle hum, you smoothed the pad of your thumb against his lower lip, carefully avoiding the cut and any bruising. Gwayne kissed your fingertips, hand still poised against your hip, groping into your pliant curves and soft physique.

“Damnable vixen.” Gwayne muttered, though his cerulean hues oozed with warmth and ardor, a gallant love reserved only for you. It was a loving jab, and he immediately hauled you closer, bringing your mouth to his for a fiery kiss. The honey-sweet embrace of your lips were ambrosial, making his head spin around.

You reached for his auburn tresses, raking your fingers through his mane, kissing him hard and without an ounce of hesitation. His hands lowered themselves to your derrière, sinking into your supple flesh, treating you to the fervor of his hold. A low moan emerged from your throat when he nipped at your lower lip.

Gwayne relented, tongue seeking entrance into the warmth of your mouth, forcing you to part your lips. In a hurried clash, you kissed him again, open-mouthed and deliciously hot. Your stomach began to churn, arousal seeping from your core, slick between your thighs.

“Gwayne,” You whimpered, attempting to catch your breath as he parted from you, licking at his lower lip. “We needn’t carry on if you are hurt.” You insisted, but he scoffed at the notion, gazing at you with bewilderment and a clear dismissal of your concerns.

“Nonsense,” Gwayne countered, clearly feeling his blood sing with lust, bitten by desire. It was a fire that you had so diligently stoked, and now, it needed to be extinguished. “I would suffer through torture unimaginable if it meant I could have you properly.”

With a bemused huff, you pressed your lips against his bruised brow, watching as he stood up, chest bumping into you. The closeness only seemed to intensify, tension crackling between the both of you. “Are you still in-need of assistance?” You hummed, tone indicative of your lascivious wants.

Gwayne’s mouth twitched into the ghost of a smirk, catlike and salacious as he released an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose,” Truthfully, he basked in your affections, even if it was all playful, a steady buildup to more lewd proclivities. He allowed you to do it all as you unfastened his cuisses and tasses, placing them aside. “Perhaps I should take you along to the next conflict. I will have need of your skilled hands, sweet wife.”

Seeing your striking husband in nothing more than his linen smallclothes made you itch with ardor, desire beginning to fester within your heart. His necklace, adorned with his mother’s ring and yours, hung around his throat, relics resting against his sternum.

A battle was certainly no place for a lady, but you digressed, lowering one hand toward the slight bulge in the front of Gwayne’s trousers. “Is that so? I’ve become quite proficient, husband.” A silky purr escaped your lips as you kneaded one hand against his erection.

Seven Hells, you would be his undoing.

With a sharp exhale, Gwayne let out a husky groan near the shell of your ear, hands steadfast atop your hips as you caressed him over his clothes. “Quite proficient, indeed.” He uttered, teeth grazing along your neck as you let your hand slither beneath the coarse linen. The warmth of his cock met your palm, and he shivered.

A breathy sigh escaped you as you bared your neck to him, palm encircled around the base as you dragged your hand from bottom to tip. The pad of your thumb stroked along the head of his cock, causing him to jerk forward into your embrace.

He had sorely missed your touch, the smell of your skin, the plush feeling of your body beneath his capable hands. Gods, if you kept touching him like that, he felt as if he would explode — and so quickly, too. Gwayne refused to resign himself to such a thing.

“I would be delighted if you’d join me,” Gwayne murmured into your neck, lips suckling just beside your jugular. The mark he left flourished, soothed by the lap of his tongue. “Only after I’ve ravished your sweet cunt, of course.” Even crude words sounded so pretty upon his tongue, and you felt your skin crawl with warmth.

A sharp inhale escaped you, anticipation churning within the pit of your stomach as Gwayne found the laces of your gown. You nodded several times over, lips parted as you sought his mouth for a blazing kiss. With dextrous fingers, he tugged on the silken ties, loosening the garment with ease.

The fabric pooled around your feet in a heap, and you hastily kicked it aside, standing in nothing more than a sheer slip. It was nearly translucent, made of a shimmering gossamer that left little to the imagination. Transfixed, Gwayne allowed his hands to travel along your body, kneading and caressing wherever he pleased.

He coaxed you toward the settee he’d been situated in minutes prior, allowing you to sit as he stood above you, hand slipping against your thigh. “Gods, you are divine.” Gwayne sighed, roughened fingertips stroking at your silky skin, like warm velvet. “Lift your skirts for me, dearest.”

Kneeling as a sacrilegious individual would, as if begging for forgiveness within the boughs of a sept, Gwayne sought his peace between your thighs. He observed in quiet rapture as you brought your slip to your hips, revealing your body to him.

Broad shoulders bullied their way between your legs, hands more than happy to have their fill of your haunches. “Gwayne,” You whimpered, feeling him adjust your hips to a proper angle, cunny glistening with a thin sheen of your arousal. “Please, I need your mouth!” Hapless at the talons of your husband, you pleaded with him to taste you.

There was nothing he wanted more in this world than to oblige you, lips pressing all along your legs, mouth steadily finding the apex of your thighs. Gwayne took care in spreading you apart, tongue raking hot embers across your cunt, your taste ambrosial.

A stirring fire of lust roused him, cock twitching within his breeches as he delved deeper into your core. His mouth was a thing of beauty, tongue sluggishly tasting you from your clit to your entrance. Your chest heaved with wanton pants, hands gliding toward his tresses.

Tangled within his copper mane, you coaxed him closer, digits digging at the base of his skull. Gwayne released a groan into your core, hands clamping down on your thighs with an ironclad grasp. Your nectar fell heavy upon his tongue, the sweetest of honey.

Gwayne thoroughly reveled in the feeling of your hands within his hair, hips occasionally stuttering and bucking forward, desperately seeking his mouth. He was attentive, lapping at your cunt with a fervor, allowing his mouth to drift to your clit.

Silk bunched up around your belly, thighs quivering like leaves as you continued to move inward. Most of your writhing was done unconsciously, pleasure continuing to wrack your body whole. Arousal pooled between your legs, spilling onto your husband’s tongue — and he consumed every drop.

Gwayne found his place between your thighs, as any devoted husband would. Every sound that he evoked from you, every shudder of your body, the slick of your arousal, he knew that it all belonged to him. Your needy moans filled your chambers, reverberating off of the walls.

“Gods, Gwayne!” You huffed, countenance screwed into a look of complete and utter bliss, lips agape and eyes fluttered shut. Without shame, you rode your husband’s face as best as you could, wrestling with his auburn locks as your knees squeezed at his head.

Perfect — it couldn’t have gotten any better than this.

His calloused palms ran along your thighs before finding their purchase against the swell of your hips, drunk and delirious from your cunt alone. He was positively whipped, a notion that he rarely admitted aloud, let alone shared with himself. The way you took his mouth with glee filled him with pride.

Another deliberate barrage of licks assailed your clit, causing you to shiver and moan, the sounds tapering off into a series of breathy pants. “Sweetling,” Gwayne crooned, timbre shifting into a delicious husk as he called you by that affectionate nickname. “You are incomparable.” He mumbled, nose brushing along the hood of your clit.

A pang of delight rippled through you as you preened beneath his desire-ridden compliment. Gwayne had a way with words, especially if he found himself in the mood to regale you with lewd whispers. The moment wasn’t now, but you hoped that it would be, soon enough.

That familiar coil of tenuous heat festered within the pit of your stomach, signaling the encroachment of your release. Gwayne buried himself into your cunt, spreading you apart, tongue greedily lapping at your core. His cock was desperate to be inside of you, slick with precum, straining against his trousers.

You chased after your release with reckless abandon, a low wine tearing past your lips as you tugged on Gwayne’s tresses with a sense of urgency. His lips found themselves pursed around the pearl of your cunt, suckling on that sensitive bud until you cried out.

It was an undeniable surge of utter bliss, an amalgamation of pleasure that made your thighs twitch and tremble. You threw your head back against the velveteen lounge, moaning your husband’s name as if it were the only word you knew.

Between the deliberate, timed strokes of his tongue and the stimulation of your clit, you could hold out no longer, digits curling inward, stomach sloshing with a molten warmth. “I— Gwayne!” You mewled, the sound deliciously innocuous as you approached your release.

It slammed into you with the force of a tidal wave, sending spasmodic shivers all along your body, making your skin undeniably hot. Gwayne groaned into your cunt, finding great pleasure in cleaning you up, reveling at the taste of your nectar, like a fine stout.

His cock throbbed with a pleading ache, wanting nothing more than to be inside of you. He was patient, but he could wait no longer, face appearing from between your thighs as he huffed. “I cannot continue to wait,” Gwayne murmured, voice laced with desperation. “I must have you, sweet wife.”

Still trapped within the white-hot throes of your release, you nodded, wanting more from him just as he did you. “I am yours completely.” You breathed, watching as he made for the bathtub. The water inside had gone from steaming to warm, not that he cared.

It was like a race, an eager clamoring to see who could get themselves into the basin first. Gwayne hastily unlaced his breeches, leaving them behind along the stone floor before he sank into the water, muscles unfurling almost instantaneously.

You stood, legs quivering from the might of your peak as you attempted to rid yourself of the silken slip, but Gwayne didn’t have time to watch you fiddle with your gown. “In,” With a sharp timbre interwoven with lust, you seemed surprised, but obeyed his command. “Come here.” He hissed.

Without delay, you stepped into the bathtub, still clad in your silken slip, which Gwayne paid little mind to. Eager, strong hands gripped your hips, dragging you closer until you were in his lap. Auburn tresses were slick with water, visage upturned into a look of sheer delight.

The gossamer silk stuck to your body, hitched around your hips, the wet garment clinging to your flesh. Gwayne lowered you enough to let his cock nudge against your folds, burying his face into the hollow of your throat. He pressed strings of needy kisses there, feeling you grind yourself against him.

Tugging at the thin, lace-woven straps of your slip, you revealed your breasts to him, fabric sagging along your midsection. You listened to the audible hitch of Gwayne’s breath, continuing to slide his cock along the length of your slit. “Sit,” He commanded, hands firm atop the swell of your hips. As you lowered yourself onto his length, he shivered, jaw tensing. “That’s it.”

His cock filled you perfectly — nothing of indomitable size or girth, but it was pretty, just like the rest of him. You gasped, palms moving to perch themselves atop his freckled shoulders. Gwayne groaned, slumping back against the slick, metallic wall of the tub, keeping one hand steady against your hip.

What sweet torment, Gwayne thought, tantalized and entranced by the way you began to ride him, sluggishly through the constant sloshing of water. He assisted you somewhat, guiding you along, occasionally lifting his hips to buck into you, but the efforts primarily rested with you.

“Seven Hells,” Gwayne huffed, cerulean hues drinking in the sight of you, disheveled and damp, countenance contorted into a look of pure bliss. “I missed that cunt of yours, wife. There is nothing like it.” A low grunt tapered off into a breathy sigh as you came down harshly, nails digging into his pale flesh.

Instead of cajoling him with sultry praises of your own, you kept quiet, one hand slinking toward the base of his throat. The newfound sensation left Gwayne visibly perplexed, but he enjoyed your little domineering streak, mouth curling into the ghost of a smirk.

His palm moved to cup your breast, toying with your nipple, slick from water, beginning to pebble with the cooler air. “Gwayne,” You moaned, bouncing upon his cock with all of the eagerness of a brothel whore. Enraptured, he observed you through a greedy, half-lidded stare. “You feel incredible.”

Before his cockiness and ego could come swinging into the fray, you lightly squeezed at his throat, evoking a sonorous groan from him. It was effective at silencing him, but his gaze burned for you, burned with something incendiary as he gently tweaked your breast, kneading at the soft mound.

You were divine, a goddess incarnate, made for him to worship at your feet. He simply couldn’t get enough of you, savoring the way in which his cock continued to bury itself within your tight walls, over and over again. That tenuous coil of warmth tightened within his belly, a rush of heat soon to follow.

His hips jolted again, bucking up into you until he hit that perfect spot inside of you. You gasped, mouth agape as your nails dug angry-red crescents into his shoulder. Gwayne’s own sounds of pleasure caressed your ear, feeling him lean in enough to press a string of kisses all over your breasts.

The hold you had upon his throat began to slack, thighs burning with a dull ache as you rocked yourself upon his cock, continuing to ride him. His cock bottomed out before you lifted yourself up again, only to fall right back down, letting him bury himself until he could go no further.

He looked gorgeous, crown of copper tresses lolled back against the tub, visage one of pleasure, hands continuing to grope and caress along your body. It was only when his length began to pulse and throb within you that he grit his teeth, bracing himself for his release.

A low, subtle ‘fuck’ tore past his mouth, goosebumps coalescing along the length of your spine. You didn’t relent, continuing to rock yourself upon his cock until he was bursting at the seams. With a noisy groan, Gwayne’s hips stuttered, filling you with ropes of hot seed.

Even the ache of war and sex could not spend him entirely, and if it were up to him, he would’ve had you on your back the second you stepped out of the tub. With a sigh of relief, he stroked your hip, watching as you came down with him.

“I will never tire of that,” Gwayne confessed, hand repositioning to stroke at your brow, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Will you stay and help bathe your husband?” He inquired, tone jocular and somewhat playful, but he seemed serious.

“Perhaps,” You mused, reaching for a bar of herb-laden soap, attempting to move off of him. Gwayne tutted, clicking his tongue with mild disdain as he pulled you right back down onto his cock. “Gwayne.” Issuing a soft-spoken warning, you gasped, brows furrowing together.

With a debonair smirk, he pressed a kiss against the hollow of your throat, lounging back within the tub, either arm perched along the sides. “You can stay just like that, dearest. You are well within arm’s reach.” That lascivious purr of him stoked yet another fire, and you relented, staying slotted atop him.

“You’re insufferable.”

copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not translate my work onto other platforms, copy, or steal my work and claim it as your own.

[wheneclipsefalls]

Healing Hands

Pairing: So'lek x Zeswa Female Reader

Summary: So'lek has accepted his life as an outsider, no clan of his own to call home. For years nothing has consumed him more than the need to exact revenge on the RDA who stole everything from him. Yet somehow all of that changes when he meets you.

Warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, trauma, mentions of death and war, angst, injuries, obsessive So'lek, lust, p in v, oral, swearing, marking, possessive thoughts, rough, jealousy, yearning, breast play, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, etc (not all inclusive)

You do not need to have played the game to read this story. I did my best to include context clues that make it clear enough.

Disclaimer: I am no So'lek expert so I made some educated guesses based on what I learned playing the game. If you see mistakes....no you don't.

The first instance is innocent. Something that So’lek can attribute to mere chance and furthermore nothing he expected to have any consequence on him. Meeting you is unexpected. 

It happens after a long mission. He had drawn off firepower from the RDA so that one of the Sarentu could infiltrate and shut down one of the drill sites. Not only was the objective completed but it also seemed to have a positive effect on their relations with the Zeswa clan. They are impressed by the action, even more so drawn to a proper alliance between them and the resistance as the effects of Sky Demon technology has worsened on the their plains. 

And so for the first time So’lek gets to witness the Zeswa home. Only there to discuss further relations with the Tsahik and Olo’eyktan, he tries to keep his curiosity to a minimum. However, it is difficult to not be swept away by the beauty of the upper plains. Even more so with the open comradery and community that is exhibited among the clan. The Zeswa are known for being a loud people, proud and brave while also fundamentally aware of possessing such skills. 

They are a direct contrast to the Aranahe in that aspect. Everywhere he walks there are groups laughing boisterously, young warriors sparing while others cheer. Even when they fight there is not the usual demeanor So’lek is accustomed to. An air of playfulness is present. It is not weighed down by the same bitter thirst for revenge his own training exhibits. 

There are colorful tents and kelku all positioned around caring for the hibernating Zakru. These giant beasts lay in the warm embrace of sunshine as their smaller counterparts laugh and rush around them. A foreign yet delightful relationship to behold. 

His meeting with Minang and Nesim is short. No real negotiations are needed as they too are quick to join a fight. It is one of the things that So’lek has always appreciated about the Zeswa. Unlike the Aranahe they require no convincing when it comes to defending their home. If anything, they only wait to see which allies will be worthy of fighting alongside them. Fear is not a common ideal among them. 

It is when So’lek has paid his respect to their leaders and begins making his long trek home, that he hears a voice. 

“Are you going to leave it like that?”

So’lek’s ears perk, tail stopping midair. When a few seconds pass it becomes clear that the voice behind him is in fact addressing him and not a clan member. Slowly turning on his heels he looks down to find you. A female at least a head shorter than him wearing traditional Zeswa colors and looking up at him with an inquisitive brow raised. Despite your diminutive stature, you blink up at him without an ounce of concern. 

“Your arm.” You clarify and much to his surprise he looks down to where you’re pointing and finds that there is a sizable gath along his bicep. It must have occurred somewhere between drawing the firepower out and taking down an amp suit with his bare hands. There is a tinge of pain now that you’ve brought attention to it, but it’s nothing in comparison to what he has endured in the past. 

“It is minor.” He responds slowly, unsure of what answer you are expecting from him. Most clan members among the Aranahe barely acknowledge him. Not that they can be blamed. He is a stranger with a gun in hand and a permanent scowl in place. Neither has it ever truly bothered him. However, you seem to be in no mood to let him out of his impromptu conversation and it has him slightly on edge. 

You scoff, soft features already laced into an amused expression. “Minor or not it needs to be stitched.” 

Are you going to make him visit the healer’s tent? There would be no need. The hospital outpost within Resistance headquarters is sterile and inhabited by Sky People that barely understand the fundamentals of Na’vi anatomy, but it has always done the job before. Big or small injury, he has remained in one piece. 

So’lek keeps a neutral expression, only allowing himself the release of shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Minang has other responsibilities.” 

You roll your eyes and a short laugh escapes your throat. “Men,” you mutter under your breath, just quiet enough that he starts to wonder if he has imagined it. “Come. I will fix it.” 

He doesn’t immediately move at your command. After a few steps you turn over your shoulder to still see him standing there and it seems as if you are trying to hold laughter back at the sight of him. Although, So’lek can’t fathom what could possibly be funny about him. 

“I do not bite. Come.” Voice fused with a playful laugh, you gesture once more for him to follow. So despite his better judgment, So’lek trails behind you, shortening his stride so as to not clip your heels, until he is gestured into a large tent. There are only a couple healers left in the tent. One woman is organizing the herbs while a male healer inspect a gash upon a man’s leg. Both of them turn to exchange a smile with you upon entering. 

Smiles that waiver when they spot him towering behind. 

“Sit down.” You command, pointing to a mat on his left. Reluctantly So’lek obeys, but his tail is already whipping with impatience. The others will be expecting him back soon. It is only a matter of time before Priya is bugging him over the radio for results on his talk with the Zeswa. It is not as if he is about to bleed out or lose his arm from waiting a few more hours for stitching. 

Regardless, you keep an eye on him while gathering a needle, thread, and the proper ointments. You’re checking to make sure he doesn’t run off and you are nowhere near trying to hide it. In fact, when his eyes meet yours, you give a chipper smile. He holds back a sigh. There will be no escaping this tent soon. 

The same upbeat attitude is not fully shared among the other Na’vi present in the tent. They remain polite but on guard. By the time you are kneeling next to him they have one by one created excuses for needing to leave. It’s just the two of you now. 

“Let me see.” In usual fashion you demand, although voice soft. So’lek watches as you examine his arm, small fingers curling under his bicep carefully. The touch lights something in his stomach until once again he is wondering how long this visit will be. “My name is y/n.” 

The sudden admission has him zoning back in. His golden eyes peek to see you from his peripherals. When the ointment is lathered over his wound So’lek is too busy turning the name over in his head to stop himself from flinching. 

“This is the part where you tell me your name.” Your gaze has risen from where it was inspecting his gash to now inspect his motionless expression instead. So’lek bites back the urge to swallow the lump in his throat. Wonderful. This may be a waste of his time but that is no excuse to be rude, especially among members of a new alliance. 

Social interaction, however, has never been one of his strong suits. He had spent years in the forest surviving alone after his clan was wiped out. Many days the only interactions he had with another being was the prey he hunted, diligently whispering the prayer of thanks over their dead bodies before preparing a meal for one. And even since then, So’lek is vexed to admit that a majority of his conversations have been with pestering Sky Demons at resistance headquarters who ask far too many questions and lag in recognizing his distaste for such interaction. 

“It is So’lek.” 

“I know who you are.” You shrug, back to focusing on spreading the ointment. His hairless brows pull together. 

“If you know then why did you ask?” Except, you technically didn’t ask. You urged him to share, a distinction you graciously don’t correct. 

“Because that is what people do when they meet each other. Just because I know who you are does not mean you shouldn’t share your name with me.” Yet another custom he has become out of touch with. Years away from a true Na’vi clan may have broken him in more ways than he had originally imagined. And yet, you don’t appear to be offended. There is a sparkle in your eyes, something he can’t quite analyze but it holds a lightness he’s unfamiliar with. 

The ointment you spread smells sweet. Almost like the pod fruit he picks near headquarters for lunch. Or perhaps the nectar he can occasionally finds while traveling. Whatever it is, it’s far better than the usual stench of medicine used at headquarters. Those strangely packaged doses have a thick texture and sterile smell that always makes his stomach turn. 

But this…this is almost nice. Even as the lathered touch burns along his wound. 

“Your Sarentu friend comes to visit often. They stop by for a meal and materials, even socializing upon occasion. But I never see you.” The needle gracefully slips beneath his skin but So’lek can barely focus on the sensation. “I was starting to think that you were a myth created by them for a good story.” 

So’lek is at a loss for words. What exactly is your point? Are you suggesting he should be spending more time among the Zeswa. It is the Sarentu that had received an invitation to help, not him. Up until now he has remained respectful of your clan’s space. It is only for an invited meeting that he finds himself here to witness your home for the first time. But the way you talk about it makes him almost feel guilty for not dropping by earlier. 

Would the Zeswa people have welcomed him if he had? Give him a smile as he cooked a meal here or crafted a better bow as the Sarentu often do? He’s not sure if he would know how to respond if they did. Your attention has already proven to be hard enough to reciprocate as is. 

“I attend to responsibilities at Resistance Headquarters.” 

“So I’ve heard.” You hum. There is something else in your voice, some hidden message in your tone but So’lek can’t decipher it for the life of him. So once again he is caught wondering what your intentions are in bringing it up. Perhaps nothing. You are strangers to one another. Just because you have gone out of your way to heal him does not mean you care whether or not he graces the clan with his presence. For all he knows, making conversation is a polite practice for good bedside manner. 

Your precision is admirable. A calm consistent draw and pull of the needle to create perfectly tight and even stitches sealing him up. Far better work than that done by flimsy Sky People hands at headquarters. And while their small faces often pinch in concentration when stitching, your features remain relaxed. Even tranquil, with just the softest of smiles present. 

In a way it almost causes his own demeanor to follow suit. That is if it weren’t for your distracting appearance. It has been so long since he has witnessed true Na’vi crafted attire so he can’t really be blamed for running his eyes over your intricate top of bright reds and oranges. It’s only when you shift slightly that he realizes how scantily clad your chest is with only the decorative fabric. And it shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. 

Nudity is not a big concern among the Na’vi. They are not ashamed of their bodies. But it’s clear he has been hanging around tawtute far too much as he feels the need to shift his gaze away every time that flimsy covering slides one way or another. And where they land, however, is just as distracting. The soft curves of your faces, long dark lashes that blanket your fixated gaze. Even your hair that is entirely unrestrained with only a few flowers woven along your crown, allowing it to fall down to your waist in soft waves. 

Staring isn’t a big deal. Or at least it shouldn’t be, but there is something about letting his eyes land for too long that puts him on edge. Perhaps it is some lingering adrenaline from the fight that still has him on alert. Even has his stomach twisting into weird knots. Usually by this point these effects have worn off, but So’lek tries not to read too far into it. 

A hiss escapes his lips without permission when fingers suddenly press into his shoulder blade. 

“By Eywa…” You marvel, now coming to press against the area harder even as he hisses his discomfort. “You are wound very tight. There is a giant knot here.” 

So’lek’s teeth dig into the inside of his lips to keep back further hissing, but there is no controlling the writhing of his tail. Despite all of his efforts, however, it seems that none of this is of consequence to you. You are more than content to ignore his pain and dig further into the muscle in order to examine the damage better. 

“It is just…tense.” He defends, finally veering away from your hands. 

“That is a nice way of putting it.” You scoff, shaking your head as if he has told a joke. “It needs to be massaged.” 

So’lek blinks back at you. Massaged? Of course it would be nice to stop having that blaring pain in his shoulder but what is he supposed to do about it? It is simply a consequence of pulling back his bow so many times, or even from slotting the stock of a rifle against that shoulder. But then you are reaching out and it hits him. This is you offering? 

Out of reflex he pulls away. Bottom lip caught between your teeth, that amusement paints your features again as you glare back at him. It’s the same look a parent gives their child when they are misbehaving. It has his ears twitching, tailing curling in anticipation. For what, he does not know. 

“It is fine.” So’lek assures you, holding a hand up when you try to reach him again. 

“Do not be ridiculous. It is not fine. That is, unless you are okay with letting it go until you are unable to move your arm without pain.” You have him there and you know it, watching him patiently until he will finally give in to your superior logic. 

You are being a good healer, no doubt far more observant of his state than anyone that has ever treated him among the resistance. And it’s true that restricted mobility would cause a direct conflict to his plans of revenge against the RDA. What point is infiltrating a base if he can’t even pull back the string of his bow? So So’lek can’t quite understand why the idea of conceding to this massage has his heart racing. 

Perhaps there is a personal aspect to it that makes him weary. He does not know you and you do not know him, no matter what stories the Sarentu has supposedly shared. You’ve just about wrestled him into this tent to get mended and now you are fully prepared to massage his pain away. To let those delicately soft hands run over exposed skin, bring him relief in a way no one else ever does. 

His heart rate is far beyond what it should be outside of battle. 

“Are you afraid I will hurt you?” Brow bones raising, you give him a look that says you know exactly how that idea attacks his male pride. Regardless, So’lek can’t hold back a scoff. 

“No.” 

“Then there really is no reason to be stubborn now, is there?” It’s a rhetorical question because only a few seconds after you are settling behind him and grabbing a basin of massage oil. 

For the first time since meeting you, you hesitate when your fingers just barely brush his tactical vest. Immediately that touch is pulled away and you fumble to find an angle that will reach the knot in his shoulder without touching the gear. 

It’s not the first time he has witnessed this hesitation among the Na’vi. The vest is intimidating, tacked on with a radio, ammunition, and many other pieces of Sky People technology that is entirely foreign to you. He remembers that caution in himself the first time he tried to hold a gun. Despite your carefree and pushy nature, this mysterious article seems to put you on edge too. 

“Do you want me to remove it?” 

“What?”

“The vest.” Daring to peek over his shoulder he finds your bottom lips trapped again before a simple nod is given his way. He sets down the vest a distance away with his gun too. Anything to make you feel a little more at ease. Ironically, however, it is him that is left feeling vulnerable without the heavy piece, only a thin swooping necklace over his bare chest now. Has it really been so long since he has removed his armor? Some nights he forgets to unclasp the vest before exhaustion takes him, but he has always blamed that on pure circumstance, not any sign of associated comfort. 

Your apprehension is washed away as if it was never there in the first place, now that you are facing only bare skin. The oil that you begin lathering over his shoulder smells strongly of dapophet but there is something else mixed in there that he can’t place. A strong essence that has memories long forgotten tugged to the forefront of his mind. Images of his clan, his family. Is it possible that the Zeswa use similar herbs in their medicine as that of his clan’s tsahik?

That thought is immediately interrupted when fingers begin to dig into the muscle again. A sharp agony pings through him, his muscles naturally tensing to protect the injured area. However, it is all for not when you continue to dig at the area mercilessly. So’lek usually considers his pain tolerance to be quite high but somehow this pain is so deeply rooted that he can’t stop himself from veering away. Even when you tug his shoulder back towards you, a hiss escapes his lips. 

“Hold still.” You demand. 

He tries. He really does try because squirming like this is borderline embarrassing. He is a trained warrior for Eywa’s sake! A little massage should not have him writhing like this. Regardless it seems this knot has gotten far worse than he could have imagined. 

“It really is fine.” So’lek grits out between clenched teeth. Star above, it is painful! He’s about ready to let the injury worsen if it means escaping your merciless hands. 

“Are you going to stop squirming like a child or will I need to pin you down to do this?” 

He can hear the amused smile in your voice but that’s not what his mind fixates on. Instead So’lek is horrified to witness how quickly his trail of thoughts leads to sinful places. How fast he can conjure up images of your smooth thighs cinched around his waist, your long hair falling over one shoulder to tickle at his spine. How easily he could quickly flip you over until he is the one that pins-

No. He must stop! A seasoned warrior well into his adult years should not create such innuendos so easily. That is for children, perhaps his years as a teenager where his hormones were wildly out of control. Back then he had a reason, but what excuse does he have now? 

“Better.” You murmur and it’s then that he realizes his dirty thoughts have somehow managed to distract him from the pain, autopilot keeping him in place. 

His jaw still clenches as you prod at the muscle, but eventually pain gives way into something else. Skilled fingers slowly ring out the agony he did not realize was there until his shoulders are sagging in relief. Your technique is meticulous, methodic. For such small hands you have quite the plethora of strength, wearing down his body until it is going lax. 

And then there is a tune. A song so quiet that it takes him a moment to realize it is you humming behind him. That foreign melody captivates him easily. Ears perking to catch every change of note, So’lek drowns in your sweet voice. And sweet it is, no better sound has he heard in years. So much of his daily life is accompanied by yapping tawtute and distant RDA bombs.

There are times where the lab tawtute put on records to play but that music is offending in comparison to the theme you weave now. It reminds him of home. Not even specifically of his clan per say, but just the feeling of having a home. Of having a community to bask in. 

Rich melody and trained fingers working in kind, So’lek melts beneath you. For the first time in a long time he remembers the difference between surviving and healing. Pleasure radiates from every touch you bestow and So’lek begins to slump, limbs feeling like noodles. Lost in the tranquility of the moment he doesn’t originally catch how concerning his thoughts become. How easily his body starts to yearn for your touch in different ways. 

How easily he starts to yearn for you. 

The interaction was innocent. And So’lek stands by that fact. You were pulled away abruptly by others demanding your attention and although it took him a few seconds to come down from that strange high, he had gathered his things and left the Zeswa with only your rushed goodbye as parting. 

He had shaken it off as a weird experience, just the shock of true Na’vi medicine after being corrupted by tawtute practice for so long. However, when days pass and his mind keeps dragging him back towards that event, So’lek knows he is in trouble. 

Were it just about the exceptional effects of Na’vi healing he wouldn’t be so concerned. After all, his shoulder has never felt better, his mobility and flexibility far beyond what he has done in a long time. So it would only be natural to have a fixation on something that rendered such positive results. 

But it’s the dreams that worry him. Dreams that start out as intangible images of your long hair, soft hands over his skin. Things that could be shrugged off as a wrong mix of hormones messing with his subconscious, potentially a faceless woman it imitates. But then they become more intense, uncomfortably vivid. Stories woven by his subconscious that are not only specific but inherently sexual. 

He dreams of how your lips would taste against his own. He dreams of your body pressed against him, of an intimacy far beyond what he could ever describe in words. Even the way his scent would beautifully coalesce with your own upon scent marking his territory. 

It is borderline madness. So’lek has only ever met you once! One time where you simply did your job as a healer. Creating fantasies out of such a small instance is truly pathetic. Of course it has been a while since he has been intimate with a woman but these feelings have not risen in years, especially not in a way so close to obsessive that it has his head reeling. 

And yet the dreams morph into the tangling of his actual conscious thoughts as he tries to go about his day. When he is sneaking up on a sturmbeest he’s wondering if you even remember that short hour together. When he is trading materials with the Sarentu his mind trails to guessing what activities are filling your day. And when he talks to Priya, well he tunes her completely out because surviving your nervous rambling is only doable when he’s imagining how the sun reflected off of your hair. And frankly, anything to keep is patience while talking to the purple haired tawtute is approved as far as he’s concerned. 

Maybe he really has been alone for far too long. He is at an age where courting and mating is a common motivation and so his body is pushing him towards the first female that has given him attention. It is biological. It must be. Once his hormones have died down all will return back to normal and he can forget you ever even met. 

That’s what he tells himself for the first week. So’lek stomps down the day dreaming as fast as possible and concentrates on his true goal, riding this planet of the RDA. He is in cohorts with the Sarentu and takes down every RDA tawtute and vehicle in his line of sight. But that doesn’t stop a nasty urge from sticking. Just this tiny idea of an injury bringing him back to the Zeswa healer’s tent. It seems that your duties primarily reside there and so it would be more than likely that he would find himself under your tender care again. 

And it’s hideous the way this fucked up idea becomes a fantasy for him. He is a warrior! A man of honor and courage. No warrior should ever long for an injury, no matter how minor. Especially when it could take him away from helping those who need him most, away from defending his home. So So’lek won’t say he falls from the tree on purpose. 

He is collecting shell fruit up in the red trees. The proximity to Zeswa camp is only a coincidence. Of course his agility is usually far beyond letting himself get scrapped up and falling a few branches down, but everyone has bad days. The only sensible thing to do while so far away from resistance headquarters, is seek a healer from the Zeswa.

He can be quick. In and out with little interference on their daily activities.

So’lek maintains a neutral mask when he reaches the healer’s tent. His greeting is polite but detached with every clan member that passes him by. However, there is no stopping the disappointment that lowers his tail when it is a different female that ushers him in for treatment. You are nowhere to be found in the spacious tent. Just a few elderly Na’vi receiving care and one child getting a scraped up knee bandaged. 

Truly he is grateful for the help received. Ka’xhori is the name of this healer and she does quick ,but quality, work on his bleeding thigh. Several times her curious stare is caught by the strange devices on his vest and even the darker stripes across his forehead. She makes conversation for a few minutes but when his answers become choppy and short, she silently resigns to his lack of interest. 

It’s towards the ending of the wrapping that he spots you from a distance. Just through the opening of the tent he catches you returning with a group of friends, shortbow in hand. A male to your right carries a fresh kill and the female to your left exuberantly tells you a story. 

Your eyes sparkle in delight, avidly drinking in the story. And then your friends says something that elicits the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. You laugh, a laugh quite different than the teasing one you had exposed him to the first time. This one comes from your gut, a belly laugh that has your eyes crinkling and teeth on full display. There is a vibrance to this demeanor that has him drawn like a moth to a flame. 

You’re babbling back at your friend with that same enthusiastic energy until both of you are struggling to not collapse to the ground in a fit of giggles. Even the male carrying the kill can’t defeat such infectious sounds of joy. Complete unabashed delight. No pretense. No mask, just a blinding smile he may never be able to unsee. 

“That should hold for a while.” Ka’xhori says, tugging on the leaf bandage for good measure. 

“My deepest gratitude.” His deep voice responds on autopilot. Most likely it is not convincing enough but So’lek is already shuffling out of the tent before she can respond. 

Despite the natural tugging in your direction, So’lek turns to the trail opposite. This obsession has gone on long enough. He thought that perhaps coming back here would only prove it to be some silly crush born out of dramatizing your first interaction together but now he sees this is only becoming more dangerous by the second. It’s best to cut himself off now while he still can. 

With a bit of distance and discipline he will be back on track. 

“Hey stranger!” 

So’lek pauses at your call, turning around to find you already leaving your friends behind to approach him. It takes everything within him to not reflect on the sway of your hips, the confident yet eased strut you exhibit.

“Kaltxi [hello].” He murmurs, giving the proper touch to his forehead in respect. 

A giggle catches in your throat at his formality. “Kaltxi.” You mimic his tone, but return the gesture. “How is the shoulder? I hope I didn’t rough you up too much.” 

Only psychologically. Only planting some brain rotting disease he can not rid himself of. 

“It is much improved.” 

Hands placed on your hips, that response seems to do the trick. However, it does not satisfy you enough to allow him an escape from this conversation. 

“So you’ve come back for more business, then?”

So’lek tumbles for a proper excuse. 

“I was here for…” It’s too late you’ve already noticed his bandaged thigh. 

“You are injured again?” You make a small tutting noise in disapproval, coming to circle him closer. “You know, So’lek I have found that it is better to dodge the sky demon bullets, not race right into them.” 

You joke as if the two of you are old friends, even a hint of mischief present in your composure. So’lek is left feeling lost in how to navigate this playful environment you’ve created. Even more so unsure on how to avoid admitting he fell out of a damn tree to get this mark. It would only show his weakness. Perhaps even give you the idea that he is uncoordinated in hunting and combat. 

Not that it matters. Why should he care to prove himself as a competent and athletic male? 

When he doesn’t respond fast enough you beat him to the punch. “You are not actually shot, correct?” 

“I am not shot.” 

“Good.” And he may just be imagining it, but there is a flicker of relief in your expression. What would your reaction be if he was shot? He would be mortified to be caught so easily by poorly aimed sky demon bullets but would that have won him some sympathy? Would you have tended to his wound directly, stayed by his side as he was nursed back to health?

“Well then if you are not bleeding to death you should stay for a meal.” 

So’lek flinches when you’ve suddenly grabbed his left hand and tug. This recoil is punished with your hand pulling back, regret immediately slinking through his veins. Despite his brash reaction there is no sign of embarrassment in your expression. Just a simple roll of your eyes. 

“I could not impose.”

“You are not imposing. It’s an invitation, So’lek.” You correct him. “Which in Zeswa culture really means you have no choice but to accept.” 

He’s tempted to ask what would happen should he refuse, but he bites his tongue. It’s important to keep his relations with the Zeswa friendly, being polite as he can manage with his little social skills. So So’lek trails behind you, watching as the skip in your steps sway that long hair back and forth across the curve of your spine. 

Just as with the healer’s tent, your presence immediately has others joyfully expressing their own greetings. 

“I am still waiting for that rematch, Niwin.” You call to male on their right, covered in red paint markings. 

“I told you, tsmuke [sister]. No number of rematches will give you the victory you desire. It is a waste of time.” He calls back, pausing from his work on a spear. 

“Spoken like a true coward. Is your tail truly still stuck between your legs?” Pearly whites on full display you only laugh when he sends back a teasing hiss. So’lek doesn’t miss the way Niwin’s eyes catch and track his frame. He is not the only one to silently wonder what you are doing with a man like him. 

Exchanging waves and inside jokes along the way, the two of you finally reach the largest of the Zeswa tents. Inside are Na’vi sprawled out and socializing, some crafting weapons while others use the cook fire to prepare meals. 

Trusting that So’lek is following behind obediently, you make a beeline for a certain male next to the cookfire. Long dreads falling over his shoulder he is fast at work, properly cooking meat over the fire. A savory scent fills his lungs. 

“Novao, I have brought you another victim.” You grin, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. 

“Such little faith you have in my genius.” He mutters, but stops short when he notices who stands behind you. His brow bones raise.

“Kaltxi,” So’lek signs awkwardly. 

“Kaltxi,” Novao returns, the response uttered on instinct. “Who is this?” He asks, turning to you. 

“Who is this?” You scoff, pushing at his shoulder. “This is So’lek, of course. By the stars, Novao, you would forget your head were it not attached to your body.” You snicker coming to kneel beside him. 

So’lek hates to appear as if he is mimicking your motions but standing above the two of you now feels awkward so he slowly kneels. 

“Do I want to know by what means you have kidnapped this man?” Novao goads. 

“You said you need a larger sampling audience for more diverse feedback. Look at how I deliver.” You quip, bumping his shoulder with a proud grin. So’lek’s ears flicker at the playful jesting, but he doesn’t allow a smile. “Do not question good things that come your way.” 

“I will once you stop questioning the success of my soon to be famous dishes.” 

Is this how you converse with everyone? If so, perhaps there is nothing special about the way you tease him. Just a general reflection of your boisterous personality that he is not accustomed to. 

“I apologize in advance if this dish causes physical repercussions.” You hand over a leaf of cloaked panther meat crested with vegetables and some sort of seed. A recipe entirely new to him, but he accepts. “There is no telling when Novao’s new recipes will bring you to the heights of ecstasy versus the edge of an early grave. But he needs opinions, so we must do our part.” 

You make a show of holding up your own portions, as if to prove you are in this together. Novao grumbles under his breath but prepares a plate for himself while holding back a smile. 

The first bite is intense. It takes a second bite to fully interpret the burst of flavor in his mouth and once he has, So’lek struggles not to scarf down the entire thing. Even you can’t hold back an approving moan as you chew. A sound that damn near has him spiralling again. 

“It is wonderful,” He says. 

“You see, even this newcomer knows how to appreciate food better.” Novao is quick to jump in. 

Giggling after finally swallowing, you concede. “It is one of your better dishes to date, brother.” 

So’lek has a hard time understanding how this isn’t ranked as the best dish period. He himself is proficient in cooking but So’lek has never taken it up as an art as some do. Most of his dishes have just enough flavor to suffice. During desperate times he occasionally will dip into his small stash of disgusting RDA meals. Nothing, however, has compared to this. 

“Do you claim to cook better?” It’s a genuine question but it has Novao rumbling with laughter immediately. Your brows raise. 

“Oh, look who has a sense of humor after all.” Brows raised, you peer back at him with narrowed eyes and a swishing tail. “Not a very good sense of humor, but one all the same.” 

He can’t tear his gaze away from your burning attention. So’lek’s own tail curls along the floor. It’s not even praise but your spotlight warms his skin just the same. It feels good to elicit some sort of response from you, instead of the other way around for once. 

“Y/n burns everything she touches.” Novao jests between bites. 

“You exaggerate,” comes your quick defense, although posture unbothered as you take another bite. 

“She almost burned down this very tent last time she tried to cook a simple skewer.” 

So’lek can see it now. Na’vi running to and fro out of the tent as you stand there looking perplexed by a raging cookfire. 

“What can I say? I am not made to bother with this mundane task.” You shrug, leaning back on your elbow to lounge. The new position accentuates the dip of your waist until it curves out into full hips. 

“So simple that you purposefully fail at such a boring task?” The questions pops out before he can stop it. But So’lek is slightly startled when you immediately clap a hand down on his knee. 

“You see, So’lek understands!” That dainty hand does not immediately retract, resting upon his bare skin there. He hadn't realized how close you were already laying until now. When you cock your head to the side and continue to banter with the other male, that soft hair comes to tickle at his thighs. 

Being in your space fills his senses with your scent. An essence so unique and addicting that So’lek once again gets the urge to run for the hills. Instead, he remains diligently unmoving, worried that any small shift will have you shuffling away from him. And basking in an entertaining conversation between friends and a good meal before him, So’lek finds that he is in no hurry to return to headquarters. 

It becomes a bad habit of his, looking for excuses to return to the Zeswa home. So’lek had stayed far beyond finishing his meal last time. He blames it on good company, something that seems to be hard for him to keep nowadays. The Sarentu clan joining the resistance has brought him some comfort since but they like him are always busy with their own responsibilities, even further weighed down by scars that are far too fresh. 

So’lek had only convinced himself to leave once your mouth watering essence and occasional friendly touches had become far too much for his body to handle. To his utter mortification there had been a stir in his tewng [loincloth] and he knew then that it was important to make a speedy exit. 

He’s playing with fire, he knows it. So’lek should be doing everything he can to avoid temptation, not race back towards it. Yet, there is something within him that can’t seem to pass up any excuse there is to return. 

“What is wrong?” So’lek reluctantly asks. He doesn’t know how much longer he can silently watch Priya mutter to herself and pace back and forth in front of the monitors. She is on the brink of a full meltdown and as luck would have it, he happens to be the only one in the vicinity as the others take lunch. 

“Nothing,” comes her frazzled response. So’lek shrugs, good enough for him. At least he can say he asked. “Well I mean a little more than nothing I guess. Although that really depends on how you look at it.” 

So’lek holds back a sigh. So they’re doing this after all. 

“It’s just that I sort of forgot to send the coordinates of the new RDA drills sites to the Zeswa after I specifically promised to get it to them within a few days. But I somehow completely forgot, because that’s what I do. Typical Priya. I’m sure at this point they are already upset and-”

“I’ll do it.” 

“What?” 

“I will share the coordinates with Minang and Nesim. That’s what you need right?” 

Priya’s mouth gapes like a fish out of water. She takes an annoying amount of time to gather herself from the apparent shock. 

“Well…I mean yes but that would mean traveling all the way to the Zeswa camp you realize.”

“I realize. Give me the demon tablet.” So’lek snips, holding out his hand for the pad. So maybe it’s not that common for him to help Priya after a foolish mistake like this but he still can’t see how that is enough to elicit such a dramatic response. Nor does So’lek want to wait around for her to start questioning his motives. 

“Wow um yeah of course. I will grab that for you and uh…” She trails off, spinning around as if she is chasing her nonexistent tail, while really just trying to locate the tablet. Priya finally hands it over with a smile. “Thank you, So’lek. I really appreciate it.”

“Yes. Goodbye.” He has never left headquarters so fast. 

Furthermore he manages to make it to Zeswa camp in record time without trying. Walking through the camp he forces himself to make a beeline to Nesim, although a part of him wishes to check the healer’s tent for Minang first. Doing so, however, would only increase the chances of coming across you and getting entirely sidetracked. 

Minang and Nesim are far more forgiving of the delay than Priya gives them credit for. It takes some time trying to properly explain the map on the tablet, as it’s their first time truly interacting so closely with these screens, but eventually he manages to relay the proper information and get all of them on track. 

The beginnings of plans for certain amushes are made and So’lek is given detailed information to return to HQ. Nesim leaves immediately once the plans are made, anxious to get preparations under way. Minang however hangs back in the tent. 

So’lek almost doesn’t notice her presence as he finds himself staring past the tent entrance to where you sit weaving a basket. It feels rare to catch you alone like this but you appear entirely at ease working the fibers together. 

“She is one of my assisting healers.” Minang says, almost making So’lek jump out of his skin when she is suddenly by his side. His eyes immediately dart away, feigning a disinterest as he rakes over the scenery equally. 

So’lek clears his throat before speaking. “That is good.” Despite the strength of his voice, Minang seems to find some sort of amusement in his response. She wears a neutral expression but even he catches the twitch of her lips. 

“I heard the two of you have already met.” 

“Briefly.” 

“Great. Then she will be perfect.” Minang says with an assured nod. 

“Perfect…for what?” A wrinkle settles between his hairless brows as So’lek’s mind races to understand at what point he became so lost in this conversation. Instead of answering his question directly, Minang turns to walk further into the tent. Already moving on to the next task she talks while starting to gather some of her cooking supplies. 

“My sister and I have been talking and we’ve decided it would be beneficial for you to learn how to ride a pa’li [direhorse]. The Sarentu has already taken it upon themselves and has progressed immensely. As another ally of the Zeswa it only makes sense you learn some of our ways too. It may become necessary for any future ground attacks.” 

She continues to gather her things without facing him, but Minang’s ears perk to hear his response. So’lek can’t remember the last time he has ridden on a pa’li. It would have had to have been briefly as a child, not actually making the bond himself but riding with his father. It was not a common experience among his clan and since then he has never had the opportunity to explore it further.

“I see. That is…logical.” 

“Y/n will be happy to teach you. She is an experienced rider. A good karyu [teacher] I think.” 

So’lek feels as if there is a rock lodged in his throat. 

“I would not wish to lessen her availability in the healer’s tent.”

Minang gives a low chuckle, turning to look at him with a swishing tail and wide smile. “I have plenty of help for the time. Besides, since you two have already met, that would make her the ideal choice.” 

“Yes, I see. Although I would not consider us more than strange-”

“I will give her word of this assignment. Return at noon tomorrow for your first lesson.” And with that she saunters out of the tent, leaving So’lek gaping for words and mind lagging to process the turn of events. 

Despite having come all this way for the chance to see you, So’lek goes to slightly extreme lengths to escape the tent without your notice. Brisk walk taking him further and further away from your alluring scent, he asks himself how the hell he is supposed to survive lessons in your presence without going entirely over the line. It’s caught in this spiral that he almost misses Novao’s quick greeting. Just a simple wave before the male is turning back to his meal, but it still catches So’lek off guard. Which appears to be the theme of the day.

And perhaps it’s in his head but it feels as if less people shy away from him as he leaves the camp. A few other Na’vi even extend a goodbye nonchalantly. 

“Did something happen?” Priya twists to meet So’lek’s far off gaze. 

“I have already relayed the information.” 

“I think she means did something happen to have you spacing out like that? You’ve hardly said anything since returning.” Anqa steps in, putting an arm around Priya’s shoulder’s as a comforting act. 

So’lek stares down at the two tawtute. He’s not sure what they expect of him. Confiding with sky people is not a common practice of his. In fact, confiding in anyone is a rare occasion. Neither does he believe they would have any way of understanding his situation. Priya and Anqa are still so wrapped up in their honeymoon phase that giving them any piece of his love life would only set them off like fireworks. He would never hear the end of it. No doubt they would pry until his patience would run out. 

“I will be gone tomorrow.” So’lek says instead. 

“Oh, helping the sarentu again?” Anqa inquires. 

“The Zeswa require my presence. I will return before eclipse.” And before they can question him any further he retreats to his small living quarters. Despite his quick retreat So’lek can still pick up their gossiping whispers behind him. 

Keeping this under wraps may be more difficult than he anticipated. It feels impossible to keep a secret in a place like this, jammed together in a cave with so many tawtute. Then again, this can’t even be qualified as a secret. In order to do so there would have to be actually something to share, and there isn’t. Nothing has occurred between the two of you. It’s just his own imaginings that threaten to get him in trouble. 

You, on the other hand, are just fulfilling the requests of your Tsahik and Olo’eyktan. Even doing a little more than asked by extending a friendly welcome to him. With any luck he will learn to ride a pa’li fast enough to stop this from spiraling out of control and involving other unwanted parties. 

It’s with this attitude that he makes the trek out the next morning. A strong resolve to stay focused and complete the task at hand efficiently. After all, he’s always been a quick learner. Why should this be any different?

“Starting the day a little grumpy, hm?” He spins around at the sound of your voice. Sauntering from a nearby tent, today you wear a decadent feather top. Something so light and revealing it would only take the right gust of wind to have it shifting. So’lek’s digs his nails into his thighs. 

“Um no, I am ready to learn.” 

“Oh so that is your focused scowl. Hard to tell the difference.” With a pep to your step, you motion for him to follow. “Well then if you’re so anxious to learn, let’s get started, lazy bones.” 

“Of course.” So’lek concedes with a nod, but he doesn’t miss the giggle you try to stifle in front of him. Perhaps he is a little formal, even stiff at times, but most people simply take it as a sign to leave him be. The same is not true in your case. 

The sound dies down significantly once the two of you have made it away from the Zeswa camp. Gliding through the tall reeds and plants of the plains there are times where he can only get a glimpse of you through the foliage. So’lek shuffles to keep up. For someone with a significantly shorter stride than him, you sure move fast. 

“There you are!” You call with glee before running forward into a clearing. Finally afforded a proper view of the open space, he spots you next to a pa’li, running a hand along its snout. The creature seems to lean into your touch, just as happy to see you as you are her. “I knew you’d be out here somewhere, girl.” 

When So’lek steps out of the tall grass the creature immediately stiffens. He goes stock still in response. 

“To ride a pa’li you must first show them you are not a threat. Soothe them into letting you approach.” 

So’lek nods his head and takes a steadying breath. Unfortunately, it is only a few steps in before the pa’li is rearing back, trying to get out of your hold. You coo softly, giving comforting words and touches until she is back in your space once more. 

“Perhaps let’s start without your bow first. Just for now.” 

Reluctantly, So’lek slowly removes all forms of weaponry on him and places it on the grass. Try, try and try again, he does all he can to get closer. When you tell him to slow down, he moves at the pace of an insect. When he tries to imitate the cooing sounds you often make it not only has the pa’li running away entirely but also you struggling to hold back your own laughter. 

Trying not to notice the way your tail curls in amusement, So'lek persistently continues.

“A pa’li is not like an ikran. There is no show of dominance to win over lifelong loyalty. Instead you must prove yourself to be caring and trustworthy every time you approach.” 

It’s good instruction but none of it seems to be doing him any use. For whatever reason, he can not get within a few steps of the direhorse before she is running for the hills. Frustration blooming quickly, So’lek’s jaw clenches. 

“You know, the problem is quite clear and simple to fix.” Head tilting to the side you draw forward to him a few steps and this time let the pa’li run off without interference. 

“What is it?”

“That scowl. Not the most inviting demeanor.” You point out and a line forms between his brows. So’lek places his hands on his hips, nose scrunching at the remark. 

“It is my face. There is nothing I can do to change it.” 

“You could try to smile.” You goad, demonstrating a smile of your own. “I’m sure if you put your mind to it, you could manage.” 

“I smile.” Apparently not enough considering you are not the first person to make this suggestion. Keeping a stern expression is not always on purpose, but with all that’s happened it somehow feels like a comforting guard set in place. He is not as vulnerable when others have a hard time reading him. 

“Alright alright.” You concede with hands raised in surrender. “I believe you. It just would be nice to see.” There is a spark of mischief beneath that comforting smile. And something tells So’lek that you are no longer talking about this just in the context of soothing a pa’li. “Let’s try something different then.” 

Air catches in his lungs the second your small fingers are wrapping around his palm. This time, So’lek doesn’t make the mistake of flinching and scaring you off. With rising curiosity he allows himself to be manhandled by your gentle grip. He is pulled along slowly until the pa’li is only a few steps away. 

To his surprise the creature does not immediately shy away now that the two of you approach her together. Slowly his hand is coaxed to lay across her snout, but even once it is placed there your touch does not disappear. Your petite fingers remain calmly pressed over the back of his hand. They coax him to create long soothing strokes across the creature’s leathery skin but every now and then your thumb will run over one of the protruding veins of his hand. 

Saliva gathers atop of his tongue. He should be focusing on this small success and creating a further bond with the pa’li but all he can feel is you. Buttery soft skin and dazzling eyes that peek up at him with praise on your tongue. 

Getting so worked up over something so simple is truly ridiculous and he can’t quite figure out when or how you gained this power over him. 

Soothing the pa’li is one thing but making the bond and mounting the creature happens to be another feat entirely. It takes at least a dozen times to make the bond and mount once but even that only lasts for a few seconds before he is bucked off. Once. Then twice. Then the third time he is catapulted into the lake. 

Breaching the shallow pool, So’lek’s lips turn downwards and he can’t keep back a frustrated grunt. His eyes narrow when they settle on your form nearly hunching over from laughter. Wiping the mud from his brow his gaze is enough to have you trying to stifle your amusement weakly. 

“You are laughing.” He deadpans. 

“No no I am not,” You clear your throat in efforts to stop the giggles as you wade into the water where he sits. “I am not laughing.” 

So’lek doesn’t know what comes over him. An action born from pure emotion, but when he accepts your extended hand of help he doesnt use it to hoist himself up but instead yanks on it hard. With very little force you easily go flying to the ground next to him and beneath the water. A shocked sound escapes your throat the second you resurface. 

An apology is on the tip of his tongue but you don’t give him a chance. 

“Oh I see how it is.” With a threateningly deep chuckle you are already rearing up and splashing a wave of water over him. Whatever amends he was ready to make are chucked aside as he shakes the water from his braids and his tail curls in excitement. 

You are back on your feet and running before he is halfway up. Fast little thing, you are. But it’s no matter, with the adrenaline now racing through his veins it is only a matter of time before he catches up. Splashing, pushing and even tripping all go underway until both of you are covered in lake mud. It’s like being a child again, his hands grasping for your tail at every chance he gets, your own smaller hands managing to fling mud into his braids. 

So’lek’s own deep laughter rumbles in his chest far before he realizes it. An insatiable thrill runs through him as the two of you indulge in play that he has not experienced since he was half this height. And when you tackle him back into the water he comes to find that for the first time in a long time he has forgotten about his nagging objectives. 

He is drunk on your laugh, the way it rings like a beautiful chime in the upper plains wind. Lazily sprawled next to you he tries to reel back his own chuckling just as your chest heaves for air. 

“I knew you could smile.” You manage between breaths. So’lek only has a second to understand your words before there is a distant boom. Head whipping towards the source of the sound he finds it comes from far east. One of the many drilling sites he had shared the coordinates of. He’s ready to shrug it off and continue, far accustomed to the dreadful noise and what it means at this point, but when So’lek turns back to look at you that feeling immediately shifts. 

Your ears are pulled back, almost tucked beneath your hair. Tail limp beneath the water and blank stare fixated in the difference. For the first time since meeting you there are no traces of a smile, not a flicker or spark in those beautiful eyes. Something heavy hangs there in its place. And the breakneck change in demeanor gives him chills. 

It’s as if you’ve forgotten he is there. That usually curving and free moving posture has now straightened into a locked position. 

“It is a drilling site in the east. Several miles away.” So’lek says carefully. There is no telling whether or not his comment makes it better or worse, but with a smooth voice he continues. “It is from a drill that they use to make a hole in the ground.”

‘What?” You whisper, almost as if coming out of a daze. 

“That is what you are hearing. It is an awful sound.” His muzzle wrinkles at the truth of his words. So’lek has come far closer to those dreadful machines then he ever would have liked but at least he now has experienced first hand how they can be stopped. Still, there are nightmares that echo with that Eywa forsaken sound occasionally. 

With a hesitant hand he starts to reach out to place it on your shoulder. “It is alright to be scared.” 

He doesn’t make contact before you are whipping back. 

“I am not scared.” Hastily you spring up onto your feet and back towards the shore. It feels as if the moment has shattered like glass before he could even understand it, leaving him reeling to catch up. “Come, let’s get back to work.” Tone hard and words clipped, you are already out of his reach. 

So’lek is careful not to bring up the drill again, or any RDA activity for that matter. He pretends not to notice that you’ve changed the location of his training further from the drill site. And when he enters the next day he is on edge, watching your features for any signs of distress. 

Surprisingly, you seem to have switched back to your usual friendliness. It’s as if that conversation never happened and since So’lek is more than lost on what to do he easily follows your lead in not talking about it. In fact, as more lessons come and go it becomes easier to follow your lead in many things. 

You are a talkative woman, always chattering about your opinions on different matters (big or small) or filling him in on the intricate inner workings of Zeswa clan gossip. At this point he could probably name just about every clan member from their pieces in your stories alone. When you’re sharing so much like this, it becomes only natural to divulge some information himself. 

You ask about the resistance headquarters, about how many tawtute live there, what they eat. Even more personal things like where he manages to sleep and how he fills his days outside of his pa’li lessons. Although at first feeling a little put on the spot, So’lek eventually warms to this line of questioning. You are simply a curious individual and when you soak in every mundane detail he gives with a vibrant excitement and big wide eyes, it’s hard to not enjoy the attention. 

Learning to ride a pa’li is exceedingly more trying than he had anticipated. Even once he has learned how to mount and start a smooth walk, navigating and getting up to a gallop feels like starting from ground zero again. Despite these difficulties, the extended lessons don’t bother him as he would have expected. 

Some days you greet him with leftovers from Navao’s newest creations (letting him learn the hard way that you’re right about some of them having physical consequences) and other days it is him that brings back foraged fruit or random trinkets from HQ you might find interesting. Those meals are shared in the tall grass of the plains, stories filtering out of your lips faster than he can keep up with as he watches your long hair dancing in the wind. 

There is one question, however, that you never ask him. Perhaps because you already know what happened to his clan. So’lek doesn’t share the story of his clan decimation by the RDA, but word travels. The memory of his people has become a cautionary tale. Not much more than a story to rile anger and motivation to bring the sky people down once and for all. The Sarentu clan shared a similar fate, but they have each other. Even a handful of people is a desirable clan in his eyes. 

It’s a week into the lessons that So’lek finds himself at the Zeswa camp early. He had come across a patch of tsawksyul [pandoran ‘sunflowers’] earlier that morning and was gathering it without thought. He has no use for the delicate flowers but it seems right to leave it with you. Surely you are more than happy to find ways of weaving it into a new intricate top. He’s heard enough about your designs to understand it’s a passion of yours. 

So with a little too much anticipation and haste, So’lek enters the camp early in search of your bright smile. It’s your voice, though, that he hears first. It filters from the healer’s tent. Lurking on the opposite of the doorway So’lek goes to round the structure and enter but he stops midway. 

“Is this about the man from the tawtute clan?” 

“His name is So’lek.” You remind the anonymous female, gently. 

Every muscle in his body freezes at the sound of his name. This is wrong. Listening in on a private conversation is bad enough, even when it is not about you. Yet, his neck cranes to see if anyone else is around instead. Since he is on the opposite side of the tent there is not a soul to note his presence yet and So’lek simply can’t get himself to move from the spot. 

“And why do you assume it would be about him? Does there have to be another man involved in order for me to take time to thoroughly consider Ra’vang’s courtship?” You challenge and the other female lets out a sigh. 

“Of course not, but you have been spending an awful lot of time with him.” 

“Naturally,” comes your simple reply, entirely unbothered. “I am teaching him as I was instructed.” 

“Yeah I know and you’re very kind to do so but you have to admit he is a little…strange.” 

“That is not true! He has simply been through shit that you haven’t.” All softness bleaches from your voice. 

“Woah! Okay, retract the claws. I am sorry. I did not mean to insinuate anything negative by it.” He recognizes your little huff in response. “It’s just that the two of you are very different. That’s all I’m trying to say. He is very…stiff.” 

A beat passes and through the tent material he swears he catches the shake of your head. “So’lek is selective when it comes to socializing. He may come off serious but there is a lot more beneath that hard exterior than you would realize. It’s simply not on show for everyone.” 

It feels as if a wire has been tired around his heart, his lungs furthermore forgetting to take in needed oxygen. 

“I admit I do not claim to know him as well as you do. But…I can not imagine living in such close quarters with sky people like that. Always surrounded by metal.”

“Of course you can not. Most people are not cut out for such a task. But we benefit from the Resistance’s aid, so perhaps we should be grateful that So’lek is capable of dealing with it.” 

“Okay okay, I see your point, sister. Just…be careful what decisions you make right now. Ra’vang is a strong warrior and provider. Even if it’s not him you have other options, many good ones. Spontaneity may be your specialty but I’d hate for you to let a good mating pass by simply because you are not thinking this through properly.” 

You give a small sigh but it’s light, void of anything but fondness. 

“If there is one thing I do know it’s that love is not something to be analyzed and bash one’s own head over. I think things through, but I know how to listen to the song of my own heart too. I don’t make it a practice to question what it tells me.” 

So’lek staggers away. Any longer in that spot and he risks being seen, or sending his thoughts into a further tangled mess. He looks down at the flowers in hand. You defended him, said a lot more than most people would have. It fosters an unfathomable fire in his chest and yet it’s tampered by a reality he wishes to not face. 

You have suitors. Real men of the clan that are not only native to this culture and lifestyle but also expressing interest through real courting displays. If your friend’s words are anything to go off of, you’ve gathered many good prospects. And why wouldn't that be true? It’s easy to imagine what they would see in a woman like you. Easy because it’s everything he sees too.

But So’lek….

So’lek is not Zeswa. He hardly has traces of the lifestyle from his own clan within him. The years have shaped him into somewhat of a mut in Na’vi breeding. He does not know the way of any clan how he should and there is a darkness within him that rages for revenge. These men have been brought up to take care of someone like you. They are able to give you so much more than he ever could and yet here he stands with a courting gift in hand like a true skxawng [idiot]. 

Whether or not it was intentional is irrelevant. If he gives these flowers to you it will surely be a sign of interest. He will instigate himself as a competitor in this game that he has no right playing. 

So’lek discreetly slips them into a basket of herbs in one of the tents. Someone else will find use for them, but it won’t be in his hands when you arrive. 

The entanglement of his thoughts leaves his body buzzing with energy. So much so that even though he hardly hears a word you say during the lesson, he somehow manages to conjure up enough tenacity to stay atop the pa’li while in a gallop. And then faster and faster he pushes the creature with that racing adrenaline he sends down the bond. 

The whip of the wind, the strain of his muscles, all of them work to offset the mental exhaustion that is quickly blossoming. And then his golden eyes finally take in the scene before him. Tall grass races beside him on every side. Trees of crimson leaves dot the open field where arrow deer scurry and Soundblast colossus nap near the sparkling river. 

The plains are monumental. It settles a deep awareness of its grandeur. 

Your celebratory yips and hollers echo from behind. 

And rushing through this scene feels like flying for the first time again. 

Completing the training finally gives So’lek room for a breather. He stunts the disappointment at not seeing you every day with the knowledge that this will only simplify the situation. Without being kept in close quarters he will be free to devote himself entirely to taking down the RDA and you will be free to explore courtings and potential matings without his interference.  

Luckily there is more than enough work to keep him busy now that they are preparing to go up against the largest drilling site to date. When your laughter echoes through his mind, So’lek goes through the RDA rosters until his eyes burn and a headache clouds all thoughts. When his brain compulsively conjures up your teasing jests being directed at another suitor, he hunts feral viperwolves until he is covered in scratches and forced to the hospital wing. 

And it is only once that he accidentally crushes a mug in his grip in front of Alex and Anqa as he envisions another man’s tongue running over your luscious curves. He chalks it up to tension created by the upcoming battle, but it’s clear Anqa has shared the occurrence when Priya gives him worried looks for several days after. 

Despite his busy work, So’lek finds himself relieved when the day of the ambush finally arrives. It is the first time the Zeswa and the Resistance have worked together in combat and the air buzzes with excitement. He only thinks of you for a moment when he mounts a pa’li and joins the Zeswa in leading the majority of RDA firepower towards the hills. 

A small band of Zeswa warriors, tawtute soldiers, and the Sarentu clan work together to infiltrate the base quietly, taking down the drill from the inside. 

Hours feel only like minutes when his body is pumping with adrenaline. It begins and is over all before he can really process it and by some Eywa given miracle, not only do they succeed but there are only injuries to be accounted for. Muscles aching, forehead beaded with sweat, and entire body still pulsing from the intense vibrations of close range gun power, So’lek heaves a deep sigh of relief. A tangible weight lifts from his shoulders, a peace that is often fleeting but something he has learned to enjoy while it lasts. 

There will be more to do tomorrow. The RDA are nowhere near exterminated, but for now he basks in the knowledge that they are one step closer to ridding them for good. The Zeswa holler and cry into the wind with a passion that seems to shake the very hills. Even those that are injured take part in celebrating this victory. 

Watching the scene makes his chest swell with foreign feelings. So many times he has been left to reflect on the aftermath of his solo missions without another to share that moment with. Celebrations occasionally occur at headquarters but never has it felt like this. And his lungs seize, almost bursting with the need to let out his own cry in the mix of their allies. It calls to a part within him that often feels buried away, even forgotten. An instinctual part of him that is true Na’vi, a creature that has a place in Pandora’s beauty. 

Years worth of turmoil releases in that guttural cry and to So’lek’s surprise, it is a sound of pure elation that rings from him. 

It was within that spirit or triumph that So’lek had been extended an invitation by Nesim to join them in festivities. Although noncommittal in his response, he finds himself preparing to leave headquarters hours later. The tawtute and Sarentu work together to create their own party in the dinghy cave. A part of him feels as if he should be there for it, a party of outcasts that he has grown accustomed to associating himself with. But that primal cry remains trapped in his chest. It calls him to the plains. 

And so for once, So’lek decides to let himself celebrate.

There are little memories left of clan parties, most just blurry images of firelight and dancing shadows. They are only mere facades in comparison to the burst of conviviality that So’lek can hear within a mile of camp. 

Walking through the center of camp there are very few Na’vi still residing there, most simply rushing to and fro in search of supplies or friends before scampering back to where the real party is being held. Down the hill he can see towering flames and a gaggle of bodies dancing with fervor. 

He takes a step, then pauses. 

So’lek’s fingers are hesitant as they undo the clasps of his chest guard, but it eventually loosens and slides down his arms to rest in the grass. He sets aside his bow, his gun, and every piece that is made of metal or meant as a weapon. Even his arm guard is placed neatly in that pile. 

The wind nips at his vulnerable form and So’lek is once again struck by how naked he feels without these things. This time though, he settles into that discomfort. This is a party. One night where he will not plot his revenge or sharpen his weapons. A single night where he can pretend to belong. 

The last streaks of fiery red disperse from the sky and in their wake, eclipse conjures Pandora’s bioluminescent glow. Tahni [star-like freckles] light along his exposed skin. So’lek’s ears perk the closer he gets to the party. The very thrum of the heavy drums vibrates at the soles of his feet, reverberating to punch him in the chest. 

There is a vibrance in the air, an energy so palpable it feels as if he can taste it on his tongue. Whatever drug has infused the scene, it seems to spread rapidly among the celebrating parties. Zeswa of all ages and stations are muffled together in a form of dancing that So’lek can only describe as pure frenzy. 

Movement without direction. Feet atop the wind as if a fire has been lit beneath them. 

It is unlike anything So’lek has ever witnessed before. His golden eyes flicker frantically across the parade before him, unsure of what to take in first. The very air in his lungs is filled with the hickory essence of smoked meat. Even his ears flutter across his braids, attacked by the onslaught of sound. 

And then, there is you. 

Right in the very heart of the festivities, as he could have guessed. His overstimulated senses finally find a target, settling entirely on the way you move within the crowd. Much like the rest of the Zeswa your body moves with unabashed enthusiasm. There is no rhyme or reason to the swivel and swish of your small form. You act on pure instinct, a reaction of feeling to the euphoric buzz around you. Pure elation. 

It is a complete disregard of outside perceptions. There is nothing but your windswept joy and the music that moves you to and fro. Although the entire scene is curious by nature to him, there is something about you that constantly pulls him in. And that’s what it is. Your presence is magnetic. It draws not only So’lek in but everyone around you, it’s clear in every reaction he has witnessed. 

You are a free spirit. You move through life as if nothing could ever clip your wings and for all he can tell, you may just be right. Because even in the midst of grief and war, your scars act as the embers to light a vibrant sun in your countenance, until that empathetic warmth seeps to those around you. 

The female next to you, her name Ta’kuri he believes, leans over to converse with you over the pounding music. So’lek’s heart drops to his stomach when she points a finger in his direction and your eyes snag his form. Your responding smile is bright upon spotting him, but So’lek can only focus on the fact that he has potentially been caught staring. 

Small form practically swallowed by the crowd it takes a moment for you to extract yourself from the mesh of bodies. Just enough time for So’lek to calm his heart and feign shown interest elsewhere to cover up for his flub. When you saunter to the outskirts he purposefully waits a beat before sliding his gaze in your direction. 

“Well if it isn’t my star pupil, oeyӓ numeyu [my student]. You actually showed up.” You are all teeth, grin center stage as you pin him with those golden eyes. 

“Kaltxi karyu [hello teacher],” The edges of his lips twist into a lopsided smile without permission. “Nesim invited me.” 

“And now you are here. Finally ready to have some fun, yes?” Chin tilted downward and brow raised, you give him a look that suggests the only correct answer is yes. He feels the snap of a retort at the edge of his tongue. Something about how he is not the grumpy pants you always claim him to be and how he does in fact find time to enjoy himself on occasion. But those are words spoken far before he decided to leave you be. So’lek is trying to be good, desperately trying to be respectful and do the right thing. 

“The celebration is very enjoyable.” 

“Very enjoyable?” You scoff with a half laugh. “How could you even know? You have not even begun dancing yet.”  

So’lek immediately staggers a few steps back, at the speed of a prey avoiding a lethal blow. “No no, I am content to enjoy the party here, paskalin [honey/sweetheart].” Shit! He can’t fathom at what point he gave his mouth permission to utter such an affectionate term. So’lek’s insides twist and for perhaps the first time in years his cheeks fill with heat. He thanks Eywa above that the darkness is enough to hide the new tint. 

Despite his slip up, your grin never falters, in fact it seems to widen until dimples form in your cheeks. “So’lek you need not be stubborn every time I ask something of you.” 

When you catch his wrist in a surprisingly strong hold he is left with no other option but to wobble behind you. “I do not know how to dance. I was never taught.” He shouts to you over the music. 

Throwing a smile over your shoulder you do not respond until he has successfully been pulled into the edges of the crowd. “There is nothing to teach.” You say, dropping his hand to face him. “Dancing is the opposite of thinking, So’lek. You simply feel.” 

“That is not the comfort you believe it to be.” 

Your laugh is barely audible over the roaring drums. “What you need is some liquid courage then.” With a wave of your hand Novao is flagged over. His eyes roll but the swish of his tail is friendly when he comes over to hand two skins of liquor over. 

“You are an angel.” You giggle, taking the containers with glee. 

“So much more than you realize.” Novao snorts before giving your shoulder a teasing bump and sauntering back towards the cookfire. So’lek barely has his hand wrapped around one of the skins before you are chugging back the other. 

When squinted eyes peek up at him over the rim you finally take a breath and push at his hand. “Novao is proficient when it comes to strong drink, I promise.” 

Not wishing to feel out of place for any longer, he slants his lips over the rim and takes an ambitious guilt. Regret immediately stings his throat as it slides down like pure fire. The responding choke that comes from him immediately after is utterly humiliating. Eyes already welling with tears, So’lek does everything in his power to shut up the ridiculous sound and gain whatever is left of his composure. 

“A little strong, huh?” There is a giggling shrill to your tone but a flicker in your gaze shows concern simultaneously. So’lek is shaking his head before you can even suggest a glass of water. 

“No no it is fine just,” He clears his throat, “...different.” 

And different it is in comparison to what he has had. It is only now that it hits him how long it has been since tasting anything even close to resembling alcohol. There are a few tawtute at headquarters that occasionally try their hand at brewing alcohol but it is nothing short of fowl and disappointing. There are no inebriating effects from such water down drink, especially consider he is the twice the height of the intended party. 

So what comes next is completely out of his control. His body is rendered utterly unprepared for the strong drink that he continues to consume in spite of his better judgment and the fact that you don’t continue to urge him to drink. However, So’lek is no child. He is a man, and one that should be able to hold his liquor so when you occasionally blink up at him or catch a glance from the corner of your eye to make sure he is doing alright, it warps his pride to push him into foolishly drinking down even more. 

“Okay I think that is enough.” It takes rising onto your toes in order to reach the rim pointed at his lips. That apparent show of height difference should not please him so much but there is no denying the thrill that tightens his chest. “Now you dance.” 

Braids clinking together he is already resisting as you continue to pull him deeper into the crowd. “I truly do not know-”

“Yes yes, I heard you before. I will assist you.” Peering up at him through thick lashes, your hip bumps against his thigh softly as you tack on, “Or do you not trust me?” 

That is the line that sinks him. Head already feeling floaty, So’lek lets you maneuver him into position. 

Small hands skate across his shoulder blades, for a moment those talented thumbs press into  the muscles there just as you had done upon your first meeting. “You are too tense. You must relax.” 

Easier said than done when there is a line of electricity left behind every inch of skin you touch. But sooner than later he finds his shoulders loosening, starting to sway in a weird motion that seems pointless but actually fits with the rhythm of drums. A burst of confidence fills him when you step back to face him from the front again, trusting him enough to continue the motion. 

“There you go! Learning already.” And just as the simpering student he feels like he is would, So’lek perks up at the praise. Those flirty smiles and encouraging words coupled with the strong drink running through his veins, it becomes all too easy to let his body go without thought. 

Regardless, you continue to guide him. So’lek falls into line with whatever movement feels natural from your promptings. For the first time in years a fuzziness takes over that nagging voice of responsibility and he lets his body take precedence over his overactive brain. The more liquid fire he consumes the easier it becomes to not imagine what he must look like on the outside. Every fiber of his being gravitates towards the addicting pulse of those drums. Drowning in that vibrant energy until he is also engulfed in the crowd of Zeswa. 

Other Na’vi surround him from every side but it’s your touch that pulses through him. A brush of fingers along his arm, his bicep. The zapping electricity every time that dainty hand clasps his own to pull him closer. Even the tickle of your hair in the wind brushing his chest has him fighting back a full body shiver. 

Dancing is not a brash display, although some excel in that arena. No, dancing is the mechanism that pulls you closer to the touch you crave. The perfect opportunity to let hands wander, to mold bodies together without social consequence. And now, So’lek finally understands the rave over this activity. 

So’lek doubts he could confirm whether or not his head is still attached to his shoulders with the amount of alcohol running through him. However, there is no more vivid memory than the one of his hands mapping your frame. They encase your sides, ribs, up to your shoulders over your collarbones, feeling the silky skin beneath as you curve into every brush of his greedy hands. It’s when one hand mindlessly curves around the nape of your neck, the two scents mingling in the most satisfying of ways, that So’lek finally catches the burn of another’s stare.

It radiates from a male off on the sidelines. Each hand holds a skin of strong drink while the male attempts to burn a hole into So’lek’s head through slitted eyes. Something rumbles at the back of So’lek’s head. A voice that tells him there is some reason he should be upset by this situation, but that caution is muffled. It rings out like a message shouted from the deepest part of the lake and So’lek can’t find it within himself to spend more than a few seconds trying to decode it. 

It’s not just you that distracts him. Ta’kuri is suddenly on his left shouting some sort of encouraging words over the music. There’s no making sense of it but before he knows it there are more Na’vi that join the mix. Even Novao meshes with the crowd at some point, slurred conversation passing between him and every Na’vi he meets. Some friends lean on each other to stop from collapsing on the ground in their drunken state while others flourish in a flutter of moves that has the fields buzzing with cheers. So’lek’s own voice joins the other exuberant shouts. 

To call the event hectic would be an understatement but every time So’lek feels as if he may be the one to topple over next, there is a small hand at the base of his spine. Gorgeous golden eyes and a bright smile peering up to remind him that you are watching over him.  

So’lek dances until his ears ring. He dances until the very soles of his feet have grown bruised from landing on the hard ground. It is only when you are stumbling across the long grass, caught by his strong hands desperately trying to pull you back up that the two of you decide to trail off from the dance floor. 

“Save some drink for the rest of us, sister.” Ta’kuri jests, tapping your nose once before helping So’lek pick you up from the ground. That sweet voice seems to be in a constant state of giggling, a sound So’lek is in no rush to rid himself of. 

The two of you find yourselves back in the middle of camp around a fire thanks to Ta’kuri. Several other Zeswa stagger to the outskirts of the cookfire, some already sloppily rolling in the dirt with greedy hands wandering into dangerous territory. The outright display of lust hardly fazes So’lek when his attention is caught by a leaf of meat handed to him. Tender and sweet, it settles in his stomach heavily, finally starting to soak up the excess of alcohol consumed. 

You are just as consumed by the food as he is, scarfing down the last bit with a delighted moan. 

“Alright you miscreants, let’s leave some room for oxygen.” An older male grumbles fondly, softly nudging a couple with his foot who are engaged in a heated lip lock. He settles around the fire and after several minutes of squinting So’lek makes out the figure to be Kin. Although his thoughts still muddle through a haze, So’lek can finally feel his brain starting to come back online. 

Kin engages the group in grand stories while offering milk to be passed around. From the corner of his eye So’lek tracks the way you sway to and fro as the stories continue, but that smile never leaves your tempting lips. Several times you sneak a peek up at him, causing his tail to wind against the floor. 

“This story again.” Ta’kuri mutters from his left, quiet enough that Kin continues the tale without interruption. 

“He has only told it a dozen times before.” Novao adds, sitting on the other side of you. “That is quite good considering how many times he has told the others.” 

“I don’t remember this one.” Lips screwed into a pout and eyes squinted in concentration, you stare intently at the male in the middle. Ta’kuri lets out a short laugh before handing over another container of milk. 

“You don’t remember any of them when you're drunk.” You accept the drink, ignoring her fond scoff and the way So’lek’s gaze is once again drawn in your direction. 

“So rude,” you huff. He lends a steadying hand when chugging down the bowl of milk has you toppling backwards. A deep laugh rumbles in his chest with ease, even once you are back upright and sending him a heated glare. 

Playful comments and quotes of the story are passed between the four in hushed tones until even So’lek is fighting back tears of laughter. Luckily the other Na’vi do not behave much better, half of them already on the brink of wrestling in the grass or laughing until on the verge of passing out. The entire scene is a messy jumble of comradery. It warms him from the inside out. 

“I left it down by the lake.” Novao whispers urgently. 

“You should not be so careless with your things. Who’s to say an arrow deer has not run off with it by now?” Ta’kuri quips back, still even So’lek can tell that she is going to go back and look for his spear with him as requested. 

“I see it is not only Kin making up stories now.” The joke earns him a swift swat to the head with a few fond insults woven before the two are rising. 

“Can I trust the two of you to survive until we get back?” She gestures between So’lek and you, a crooked curve of her lips present. It’s doubtful that you have understood even half of where the conversation is at this point but you do respond in a way that both shocks and amuses him greatly. Fingers together at your forehead you flick it out messily in the same way the sky demons do in salute. It’s imperfect and honestly he’s not sure if there is any true understanding of the action but it appears to be an inside joke that Ta’kuri is in on. She returns the gesture with a fond grin. 

So’lek doesn’t try to break the silence once the pair has left. It’s hardly uncomfortable with such jovial ambience surrounding. Not to mention the fact that he’s not sure how of a conversation you can carry in this state. It makes no difference. Sitting here is nice. Being next to you is fulfilling in a way he could not have imagined. 

“I lied.” 

So’lek’s ears stand at alert. Your comment comes so abruptly that he takes a second to lean forward and make sure that you had meant to say it. Those beautiful eyes are transfixed off in the distance but there is no sign to say otherwise. 

“About what?” So’lek shifts forward, propping an elbow on his knee as he veers forward to observe your strange expression. 

“About not being scared.” It’s a miracle he can detect that whisper over the boisterous conversation around. A part of him wishes he hadn’t. It creates a knot in his stomach. “I am scared. I’m scared all the time. Even on days like this, I should be happy. But I still worry that it could all be ripped away. I don’t want to lose everything, not like…” 

The end of that thought dies in the wind but So’lek catches it anyways. 

Don’t want to lose everything like he did. One glance at your now pinned back ears proves his suspicions to be correct. Comforting others is not his strong suit. Heavy emotions have a way of winding his tail anxiously as he sputters to understand the right course of action. But tonight, he is grateful for the lowered inhibitions brought on by liquor. It’s what allows him to pause and simply feel the weight of your words. 

So’lek’s rough hand, a hand battered by handling weapons in the face of war, settles over your knee. That warm touch has glistening eyes staring back at him. 

“That is not going to happen.” It is a vow, one that is spoken deep from his chest. The Sky People have stolen everything from him. Everything. But he is not afraid to protect you from the same fate. To promise with the last meager supply of hope he has left that he can and will prevent this tragedy from coming your way. 

A single tear cascades over your cheek. Then you’re suddenly curled up against him, resting that head of long hair against his shoulder, seeking refuge there. It bursts something new within him, something even scarier than he has experienced since meeting you. Never in his life has he been a safe place for another person. That honor has never been one he’s opened himself up to or has felt worthy of. 

But you tuck against him, sigh into his neck and every form of tension in your tiny frame evaporates. 

“Fuck, I’m so drunk.” Your half giggled slur coaxes out a deep chuckle from him but So’lek is careful not to move otherwise. This moment is too fragile. And if he’s not careful in a blink it will be tomorrow. A day where he puts that chest guard back on along with every other responsibility he has holstered alone for years. That yearning for revenge will return and clean out the softness that only you can supply. 

So’lek can’t recall at what point he had fallen asleep. The last thing he remembers is Novao laughing so hard that milk came out his nose. Eyes as heavy as metal doors, he squints them open to find the sky still dark. He is not the only one to have dosed off in the middle of camp around the fire. Different groups of Na’vi are passed out in the greenery but there is a warmth at his side. 

You are curled up into a ball, a ball that is slotted against his own body. Even your face presses at the bicep, your nose cold to the touch. Without the protection of tent walls, the breeze is free to brush over the gaggle of Na’vi. Somewhere in your slumber you must have sought out the first available source of heat. Him. 

The wind comes from your direction. So’lek is hardly conscious enough to consider tucking you into a tent for the night so instead he does the next best thing. With careful precision, he lifts himself up over your curled frame and settles himself on the other side. This way the wind now hits him before you. Laying on his side then allows him to create a wall that you can hide from the wind behind. 

A shiver sends down his spine at the first nip of plains of air, but So’lek doesn’t dare consider moving. Legs untangle and your tail splays out flat again. Although it’s clear this tactic has warmed you up nicely, he is shocked to see you turning over to face him once more. Breath caught in his chest, So’lek watches as you groggily tuck up against him and sigh with a smile. 

How many years had it been since he has slept this close to someone? 

So’lek has had occasional lovers, but only as means to an end. Nothing deep. Never anything on an emotional level for either party. And so naturally neither did they end in snuggling close to sleep afterwards. 

Call it pride. Call it living in denial. But something pushes him to forget about tomorrow and cocoon you closer to his chest. 

So’lek’s dreams don’t carry the strain of blood and terror that night.

“There you go, rise and shine sleepyhead.” That soft voice barely filters through the wind, let alone through So’leks head that now feels like the weight of a tank. Throat dry and eyes barely able to slit open to face the light, consciousness comes back slowly.

And when it does, it hurts like hell. 

You lean over to block him from the scorching sunlight. When did the plains get so bright? And when did waking up feel like getting his head smashed beneath an AMP suit? The events of last night are still tucked in his memory, but it takes a moment for So’lek to recall the impact of them properly. And that last thing….the last thing he remembers is you snuggling up against his chest. 

“How long did-”

“No talking, just drink.” You advise, handing over a bowl of water sternly. Although slightly embarrassing, he’s grateful for the way you help him slowly sit up. It’s hard to get his wits about him when the world is still spinning. 

The cold water spears a painful path down his throat, but after several gulps it’s much easier to take in full breaths. The small hand gently placed on his shoulder is a surprising comfort. However, even in a foggy state, that simple touch immediately has him recalling what a true comfort it was to have you in his arms. 

No time in his right mind would he have acted on his impulses so carelessly. But last night he had felt entirely detached from time, even more so distant from the side of him that served to do the right thing. 

“I fear I owe you an apology.” Although your lips are quirked in a half smile, the comment has him stiff as a board. Here it is. The consequences of his actions. In no way did he have the right to act so intimately with a woman of a clan he does not belong to. And now you have finally come to realize that for yourself. “I did not warn you properly of Zeswa drink.” 

A sense of relief bubbles up so fast that So’lek lets a half laugh slip from his lips. It is graciously accepted with a beaming countenance that makes his heart race. 

“No it is fine, simply….different from what I have tried before.”

“Well if I knew you were such a lightweight I wouldn’t have suggested it.” You are never one to give up an opportunity to tease him. It is a routine that he has incidentally become quite fond of. Even more so now when there is a twinkle of sincere concern in your beautiful features. 

You care. It’s not the first time you have shown it and So’lek prays that it won’t be the last, but it seems time has only made the impact of this truth hit him that much harder each time. It flushes through like fire in his veins, far more addicting than the rush of Zeswa alcohol could ever be. 

“I have no regrets,” So’lek says, deep voice rich with sincerity. 

Fingers twiddling in your lap, there is a switch in your demeanor that is hard to ignore. Looking at him through thick lashes and grin barely held by teeth snagging your bottom lip, for the first time a sliver of shyness twinkles in your expression. Although, it is clear that your higher tolerance has afforded a much less dramatic hangover leaving him to look like a mess in comparison, it feels as if he has the upper hand for once. 

“Really? Even now that your head must want to split in two?” That radiant sunshine you hold has his already weakened composure splitting instead. His gravely chuckle intertwines with your own soft laugh and So’lek doesn’t even realize how close he has invaded your space until the next words leave his mouth.

“It was worth it. I wouldn’t trade last night for anything.” 

The severity of his own statement hits like a boulder. Both smiles drop and So’lek is left grappling with the fact that he has meant every word. 

Softened eyes peer straight through him, but these are not full of sympathy. There is no pity extended at now realizing how sad most of his nights must be. There is no squirming to find the right response or looking away with an uncomfortable grimace. 

No, you face him with that excitement that feels like he is bathing in the sun after years of wallowing in darkness. 

“I’m glad.” It’s a small whisper, very much unlike your usual robust calls. And just when So’lek’s eyes have wandered to watch the way your supple lips form those words, he finds that your stare has pinpointed on his own. Golden eyes dart back and forth between his parted lips and So’lek’s own stare. 

There is still that voice that cautions to pull back now. It’s the same voice that screams to curl up and escape your attention before it’s too late.

But you don’t hide. There is only honesty in your curious perusal. 

For once maybe he can find a way not to hide too. 

So’lek breaches the space between you, leaning forward slowly until there is only a whisper of wind between him and the kiss he has desired for weeks. Your noses almost touch. 

“Y/N! Where have you gone? You are needed.” A masculine voice calls from around the corner. There is no one else around the desolate fire where the two of you reside. You make no sign of responding to this call. If he veers forward there will still be enough time to capture what he has dreamed of before the two of you are found out. 

However, So’lek recognizes this voice. It belongs to the same man that had tried to glare a hole through him last night as the two of you danced and so it’s easy to deduce that this must be one of your awaiting sutors. 

A Zeswa male born and raised. A real viable prospect that So’lek is now on the edge of stealing you away from. This is exactly why he has stayed away. And yet all it has taken is one more night in your presence to lose every ounce of self control he has left. 

So’lek veers back. The look of quiet disappointment that crosses your face is enough to twist a knot in his stomach. 

The male rounds the tent, letting out an exasperated sigh upon spotting the two. “Ah there you are.”

“What is it?” You hiss, head snapping in his direction so fast that your hair flies over one shoulder. 

So’lek doesn’t need to look to feel the way this man’s eyes dart between the two of you. 

“Ke’ari is hurling his insides all over the healer’s tent.”

Soft features immediately pinch with irritation. 

“Aim him towards a vase then. He is one of many who are suffering from over indulgence. I am still treating So’lek. He needs food.”

“I have brought him some.” Of course he has. A deep loathing for the other male may already be forming but So’lek can’t ignore the craft of this suitor. He did not come unprepared. 

Hand running through your hair, you take a moment to look up at the sky and conjure the required patience. 

“Fine.” The male is unperturbed by your snipped response. He does, however, glower when your expression melts once facing So’lek once more. “Wait here. I will be right back.” 

It’s tempting to savor the longing in your voice, the way those honest eyes practically plead for him to stay. 

But it’s too late. So’lek regains the reins of his own heart and forces himself to flee at the first chance. The frowning male has no time to implement his intimidation tactics before So’lek is rising onto wobbly legs and searching to retrieve his gear. 

He slips that protective armor back on and leaves without taking a single bite. 

So’lek’s eyes burn from staring at the bright screen, hardly blinking while trying to decode the mess that is RDA rosters. Little progress is made as he stares down at the shining pad in hand and tries for the fifteenth time to pay attention. Perhaps it was a mistake not eating the offered meal this morning. Even if your eager suitor had poisoned it, he doubts dying from it would feel worse than the egregious hangover he suffers now.  

Leaning back against the table, So’lek’s eyes wander again without permission. Headquarters is unusually quiet today, a sign that the party they threw last night was successful enough to put many in the same state So’lek finds himself in the morning after. Priya and Anqa are up, however. Tucked into an alcove near the kitchen they seem to be under the impression that no one can see them here. 

Priya’s giggling echoes through the cave and Anqa only shushes her several times before diving back in for another kiss. Usually this is the part where So’lek’s face scrunches in disgust before he flees to a place he won’t be forced to witness such displays. Today that isn’t the case. In fact today, for reasons unbeknownst to him, So’lek can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the scene. 

“Suffering as well I see.” The voice startles him, almost enough to lose grip of the glowing pad in hand. Shuffling to avert his gaze from the two lovers and appear nonchalant, he looks over to find it is Ri’nela that approaches with an amused smile. “From the hangover.” She clarifies.

“Oh yes…you are unwell too?” The dark mark on his forehead pinches together when she comes to sit on the table beside him. Her new Na’vi attire is still as neat as ever but there is a drowsiness in her gaze similar to his own.

“You seem to forget that I was invited by the Zeswa too.” Although it doses So’lek with a tinge of guilt there is no ill will in her comment. However, it does leave his mind swirling to different concerns. If she was in fact at the party last night, how much of his interactions had she witnessed? More importantly, how much of it would she share? 

“My mind is….clouded this morning,” comes his lame response. Graciously Ri’nela simply gives a hum of understanding before turning towards the direction he was caught looking earlier. 

Priya and Anqa have moved on from swallowing each other’s tongues, but they remain lounged in a hanging chair together, Priya perched atop her lover’s lap as she yaps on and on about who knows what. Although Anqa is less animated in her responses, she listens intently. There is nothing but lovesick admiration in her eyes as she endures the endless jabbering, tucking her girlfriend’s purple hair behind her ear or drawing circles on her side occasionally. 

“It must be nice.” Ri’nela sighs softly, a wistful air to her tone. When So’lek turns to raise a hairless brow at her she motions to where Anqa and Priya. “Having something like that.”

“You envy the tawtute?” So’lek can’t mask how ridiculous he finds the notion. Ri’nela has always struck him as a reasonable Na’vi. Even one that shows great potential as a leader. What do tawtute have for her to be jealous of?

“Well aren’t you?”

So’lek’s nose scrunches. “No.” 

Despite the brunt response, Ri’nela is hardly put out. Her lips perk up slightly and she gives him a gentle look that one does when teaching a small child. “Are you saying you don’t want what they have? A partner? A mate?”

Calling Priya and Anqa mates feels wrong, like a bad taste on his tongue, but he can’t deny they must be something close. After all, they are committed to one another in similar fashion as one does their mate. They always have someone to run to.

“I have not thought about it.” If Ri’nela senses his lie, she doesn’t let it show.

“Hm well I have. It feels kind of impossible though considering our situation.” She sighs and it’s the first thing she has said in this conversation that immediately makes sense to him. Just like him, she is an outcast of sorts. There are only a few that survived in the Sarentu clan and all of them had been kept in with RDA like a lab experiment throughout their adolescence. 

“Difficult indeed.”

Ri’nela lets out a sad laugh, something painful shifting in her features. It sets So’lek on edge, already mentally preparing to navigate a situation where he is expected to comfort another. “Sometimes I think that even being a tawtute would be easier than this. They may live on an alien planet, but even those who have left the RDA have found each other and created this place together. Those two have found love here. This is their clan for all intents and purposes.”

So’lek has never thought of it that way. Do Sky People form clans the way Na’vi do? If so this clan is by far the most peculiar one he has ever seen. Then again, they do work as a team. Everyone comes together to maintain their lodging and when dangers comes knocking there are always a group of former RDA military tawtute ready to act like warriors. 

“We have nobody.” Ri’nela continues. “No clan, no place to call our own. Even our memories of the clan we once belonged to are hazy. This place is the closest thing we have to a refuge and even here no one can truly teach you what it means to follow your path in life.”

So’lek shrinks, fingers idly twiddling together. Of course things have not been easy for the Sarentu that escaped the TAP program but he didn’t know this is how she views the circumstances. 

“And mating…” Ri’nela sighs again, “Mating becomes all the more complicated when you have no clan to pull from.”

“I do not believe now is a good time to mate in general. What is the point when the RDA can easily take away such a bond?”

“Do you really believe that?” 

No, not really. If he had been asked a month ago, perhaps. Back then it had only seemed logical to avoid close ties when he is surrounded by death daily. It would be just another thing for the RDA to take from him. 

But now…now the words are sour on his tongue. 

Ri’nela has this quality about her that is hard to place a finger on. A certain calm vulnerability that somehow makes it difficult to lie to her. So instead of trying, So’lek simply shrugs. 

“I think that if I was lucky enough to find something even close to what they have, there is nothing that could keep me from it.” Ri’nela’s gazes with a sad fondness at Priya and Anqa. There is a longing glimmer to true there that it has his own stare pulled back to the couple. “Someone to weather this storm with. A person that knows you in a way unmatched by any other, and still they choose you. A bond that reminds you why life is so precious, makes it more than just surviving.” 

Is that what Anqa and Priya have? Something worth living for? On the surface it has always seemed like some gooey infatuation, a naive romance that he is forced to witness. But perhaps it is more than that. So’lek doesn’t often think about what life would be like as a tawtute, in fact he never does, but can imagine it not being the most comfortable of circumstances. They are not even able to breathe the Pandoran air around them without suffocating. Going back to their home planet is no good option either as it is already dead. 

So then maybe Ri’nela has a point. Priya and Anqa find happiness in their day to day affairs, affairs that include risking their lives to fight against their corrupt former employers, despite the harrowing circumstances. They always have a reason to smile, something to laugh at. And it’s just hitting him now that this reason is each other. 

“I’m sure you will find something like that, Ri’nela.” The hypocrisy burns So’lek’s throat. How can he claim to believe that when those rules don’t apply to himself? The survivors from the Sarentu clan are the people closest to having the same experience as his own. To have faith in Ri’nela finding a mate not himself goes against all logic. 

“Only time will tell.” Although still melancholy, Ri’nela sends him a sympathetic smile. She rises from the table and goes to make her exit. So nonchalant in her retreat as if she has not induced a spiral of thought for him to wind into. 

She pauses just before reaching the corner and turns to him again. “I know it is not any of my business, but you should know how lucky you are.”

So’lek’s heart drops to his stomach. 

“Don’t let her get away.” 

So’lek would prefer to blame Ri’nela for his inability to sleep that night. After all, she is the one that dropped a bomb on him with her speech about mating. Not to mention the only person in headquarters that has knowledge of his love life and the ability to make his feelings for you public domain. 

However, that would be dishonest. And at the end of the day he knows that tonight was always going to end this way. He has been trying to get his mind off of you for weeks, in fact every time he has returned from the Zeswa camp, and it has always been unsuccessful. And now the fact that two of you had almost shared a kiss only amplifies that obsession more. 

It was already hard enough to control his desires when he could believe that it was a one-sided longing. But now that he knows there is some interest on your side as well, fighting the demons in his head is borderline impossible. You knew he was going to kiss you. You knew and you not only were ready to let him but showed disappointment when he failed to do so. 

How is he ever supposed to resist now that he knows the object of his desires is at his fingertips? That there is a chance he can have you.

Perhaps not as a mate. It would be naive of him to assume his ever growing feelings for you are reciprocated in the same manner. But even knowing you desire him in a physical manner is enough to have him rolling over in the hammock and biting into the material. 

This is absolute madness. 

What is his plan? Avoiding the Zeswa clan forever can surely not be it. He can try to reduce the amount of time spent there but they are still allies so there will always be occasional visits required. Even then, does he really trust that distance will be enough to get rid of these feelings?

No, this is not a phase that will pass. 

And even if So’lek were to find a way of dealing with feelings without intervening in your courtings, what would that change? It would mean that another male comes along and makes you their mate eventually. And every day from then on he would be forced to face the fact that he is in love with a mated woman. He would have to witness that union every time he visits with indifference while everything within him would ache to rip this male’s throat out with his teeth. 

So’leks stuff a growl down his throat. Eywa above, what is wrong with him? Never before has he felt so connected to the primal beast inside of him. For years he has been a master of not only his emotions but impulses as well. But you’ve awakened something else within him. Something that has laid dormant for years and now refuses to go back to sleep. 

When he’s not echoing your perfect laugh in his head, he’s imagining the way you would groan his name. When he’s not recalling the silly story you told him earlier that day with a smile, he is crafting fantasies of his tongue lapping the sweet nectar between your legs. And when he is not pushing back every pulse of his heart that sings for you, he is grinding his teeth at the thought of another ever loving you the way he does, yearning for you the way does. 

Everything circles back to you. 

You have torn him apart from the inside out and the worst part is, he doubts you have any true inkling of this. At most, you understand there is a flirting atmosphere between you two. 

So where does that leave him? It seems there is only one option that has the potential to lead him away from years of insanity. However, that means facing exactly what he has avoided for weeks.

Telling you the truth. 

So’lek is a man. He can and will face rejection if necessary, although the idea of that somehow has his insides curling with dread. If it were only a matter of gaining the courage he would have unrooted his tail from between his legs and told you weeks ago. But that is not the main issue. 

The real danger is having those feelings reciprocated, because that would then mean being open to mating. That would mean letting all of his hard work to protect you go down the drain and instead take you selfishly for himself. And he hasn’t done that. He hasn’t done that because…well because he is not worthy of you. 

Then again, does that imply that your current suitors are the opposite? What do they possess that he does not?

They grew up in a clan, in your clan nonetheless. And So’lek didn’t. He has no clan. 

His conversation with Ri’nela bubbles up again. Does he truly believe that not having a clan means being subjected to a life without a mate? He would not wish that to be true for Ri’nela’s sake. Or Teylan’s. Or really any of the other Sarentu that are left. If she were to come to him in a similar situation, having found interest in someone within the Zeswa clan he would approve of her going after that connection. So why does he not approve of that for himself?

He does not have a deep understanding of his culture or know exactly what it means to have People of your own. And somehow that makes him unworthy of you. Because one day, a long time ago, the Sky People rained hellfire on his home and took away his clan.

Does that one instance mark him as damaged goods for the rest of his life?

If so, that seems to be a lot of power to put in the Sky People’s hands. It means that the Sky People not only took everything he had with such ease, but also everything he could ever gain for the rest of his life. And So’lek…So’lek is so damn tired of having things stolen from him. 

It is not fair for the RDA to steal you away from him too. If he is unworthy of you it is simply because of his shortcomings in character and light when compared to your vibrance. Not because of circumstances he did not choose. You are too good for him, So’lek can recognize that, however that does not mean he is not allowed to chase you like the others. 

Ri’nela prays to find someone to spend her life with, a mate she can call her own, and So’lek can no longer deny that he wants the same too. He does not want to simply survive anymore, he wants to thrive. But unlike Ri’nela, he is lucky enough to already understand who he wants that with. 

So he’s not willing to let you slip away. 

Not before he has given it everything he has first. 

It is only when So’lek hears one of the tawtute’s alarm go off that it becomes clear has had not slept a wink all night. And yet, So’lek has never been filled with so much energy. He dresses and grooms himself within record time, ignoring the puzzled looks that are sent his way. It seems that nothing matters besides getting to the Zeswa camp as fast as possible.

Wrestling his emotions all night has left him with a buzzing energy that threatens to make him explode. He needs to tell you and he needs to tell you now. Every second that this remains unresolved is another that has So’lek on edge. 

And so the trip to the upper plains has never felt longer. Although he makes the trek with incredible speed, his feet don’t take a second to adjust their stomping pace once he enters the camp. In fact, they only drum faster against the long grass as he hunts you down among the bustle. No thought is put into the expression he exhibits or body language, so So’lek doesn’t pay attention to the Na’vi that drive out of his way in fear.

There is nothing but cold steel determination laced with an anxiousness that overtakes him. 

Then there you are. Long hair blowing in the wind and basket in hand as you carefully weave the next row. So’lek’s lungs finally fill with air. Has it truly only been a day since he has seen you? How was he foolish enough to believe he could ever continue being around you without trying his hand at making you his? Heavy steps cross the space, almost on the brink of jogging to where you stand next to a tent. 

When your tails perk and eyes finally clock the impending advance of his tall frame, there is a surprised glimmer in your expression. Even a shot of excitement in those beautiful golden eyes that has all of So’lek’s restraint depleting. 

“So’lek, what are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer with words. Instead he springs the last two steps into your space and immediately hunches to plant his lips against yours. His long fingers curl at the nape of your neck while his thumb caresses your cheek. Although your response is lagged from shock, it doesn’t take long for your lips to meld with his in perfect unison. 

So’lek gives everything to that kiss. Every night that he has laid awake thinking about you. Every sputter that his heart has wrenched from your laughter as he has fallen off a pa’li over and over. Every ounce of desire that rushes through him like a river bashing against a dam ready to break. 

Deepening the kiss, he refrains, however, from letting it get too vulgar. If he lets that primal creature inside of him lose now, he’ll take you right here and now before talking anything through. It’s difficult to remember this, however. Technically his plan was to speak to you then take his shot at a kiss but So’lek can find room for regret when you taste like everything sweet he has been missing for years. You are just as soft as he imagined. Even more addicting than he could have envisioned. 

When So’lek breaks away your lips are already a pretty shade of pink, parted to release heavy breaths. Those golden eyes are now only a sliver of color as your pupils have dilated and eyes widened in disbelief. 

“I should have done that yesterday.” That truth gives little explanation, but it’s the only words he manages to get out without sticking his tongue down your throat. 

Your chest heaves and features morph into a delighted shock. Seeing you like this is more satisfying than he could put into words. You’ve always been the outspoken one between the two of you, but now it is him that renders you speechless. 

So’lek almost goes in for another kiss before the weight of several gazes finally register. Turning over his shoulder he finds that you are not alone in weaving your basket. In fact there is a group of Na’vi sitting on the ground holding their own materials, watching with wide eyes and dropped jaws. It hits him then. You aren’t just sitting here working on your own basket. You are in the middle of teaching a class. 

A class he has so dramatically disrupted. 

“I apologize for the interruption.” And he should be, he really should be but So’lek doesn’t even believe his own words at this point. He stalks off simply out of respect for the class and the chance to remember how to behave in public. 

It won’t matter though, not when he can feel the prickle of your wide-eyed gaze along his back. 

So’lek lingers just outside of camp in an alcove of blood leaf trees. It’s just enough space for him to catch his breath, try to clear his head as he waits for your class to finish. Palms spread along the bark in front of him. So’lek drops his head between his outstretched arms and focuses on inhaling and exhaling. The exercise is borderline pointless when each inhale only sparks attention to your taste lingering on his tongue. 

Never before would he consider himself this impulsive or irrational but even now that he has made a spectacle in front of everybody, So’lek fights the urge to turn around and do it all over again. He barely resists the aching need to stomp back into camp, throw you over his shoulder and carry you into the woods where he can finally have his way with you. 

So’lek spins on his heel, leaning against the tree with his head thrown backwards now. This is insanity. 

His nostrils flare the second there is a trace of your essence in the wind. So’lek almost wishes he wouldn’t have looked because now he is sucked in by the way your breasts bounce as you jog from the camp towards him. 

Great Mother above, how is going to have a conversation with you while in this state?

Luckily, or perhaps not so lucky, you are in no mood for conversation either. So’lek doesn’t get out a simple hello before you are bounding into his chest and pulling him down for another kiss. This time there are no boundaries keeping the kiss from turning absolutely filthy. That devious tongue swirls around his own until So’lek is capturing your bottom lip between his teeth in retribution. 

Fuck, you are so much trouble. 

“Wait…mh...wait.” You don’t afford him the space for speaking so So’lek eventually catches your upper arms in a firm grip and establishes some distance. “Wait for one moment.”

“No, I’m sick of waiting.” Voice teetering on a whine, you brush off the hold and capture his lips back to yours. So’lek feels like he is being torn in two. It’s important to talk things through, make sure that you understand just how deep his feelings are, but with the way his tewng struggles to keep his hard cock trapped, it is only a matter of time before instincts overcome logic. 

So you leave him with no choice. 

With one graceful swoop he has you manhandled back against the tree, arms planted on either side of your head to keep you bracketed there. “You need to listen.” So’lek seethes and it comes out far angrier than he intended. 

In spite of that, your eyes take on a new sparkle. Those beautifully swollen lips part and soft features morph into a dazed shock just as they had done after that first kiss. Except this time, the aroma of arousal thickens.

Fuck, you’re into this. You like the way he has wrestled you into place. You like how he towers over you now and demands to be heard. Perhaps it is the only reason your protests have immediately stopped. He needs to get this off of his chest before the ability to make full sentences leave him entirely.

So So’lek blurts it all out in a heated rush. 

“I did not come here to fool around once. That is not what this is. I am here because it is physically impossible for me to stay away. There is not an hour that goes by where I don’t long to be with you, even in your presence if that is what I can get. I have no clan. I don’t know the customs of your people and I often have a disposition that makes people want to run away rather than draw near. I am not like your other suitors, I do not offer the same things. All of this I know and have tried to respect but it seems no iron will I construct is strong enough to keep me from wanting you all the same.” 

You don’t dare to blink and disconnect his gaze from yours. 

“And want you I do, paskalin. But not just once, not just in a way that satisfies our bodies alone. I yearn to have every part of you that can be offered.” One step closer and So’lek’s can practically feel the drumming of your rampant heart against his chest. “So if this is not what you want, then you need to tell me now. Because I know that once we cross this threshold, once I get one more taste of you there will be no going back for me. You will have my heart until my dying breath.” 

Winds whips against his back. Second feel like years as dainty hands wind up his arms and clasp at the nape of his neck. 

“Maybe if you weren’t so stubborn, So’lek, you would already know that I have been yours since the moment we met.” 

The next connection of lips is softer, far more patient than the ravaging before. It allows So’lek to fall into your confession properly, to let it settle into his head and heart that this is real. That you are truly sunk into his embrace, candy on his lips, and heart open for him entirely. 

So’lek pours every fiber of gratitude into this kiss. He winds his love into the tender brush of his fingers across your cheek. His tail curves around your thigh with the solemn promise to protect you until his heart stops beating. And you breathe in every silent promise he makes with one of your own. 

Your long lashes tickle his cheeks and small hands rooted in his hair causes So’lek’s knees to weaken. 

This tender moment can only last so long, however. That deep seated fire has not been forgotten and with every second the two of you remain entangled, the hotter it burns. That shift is prevalent in the way you go from running nails over his scalp to tugging on the long locks to pull him closer. So’lek’s own hands go from tender exploration to greedy groping down your hips and backside. 

A part of him would question the harshness and vulgarity of his actions were it not for the way you now moan into his mouth. You take every crude touch delivered and beg for more in the same breath. 

So’lek only departs from your lips to finally slot his face into the crook of your neck. Nose running along a vein of your throat, he is free to drown in the place where your aroma is most potent. But it’s not enough to breathe you in, not even sufficient to simply witness the way his scent now intertwines with yours. He must taste it, must run his tongue over every inch of perfectly delicious skin like he has dreamed of for weeks. 

The flat of his tongue draws over from your collarbone to the edge of your jaw. You don’t hide your sound of delight, nor the obvious push of your pelvis to find his own. Bruising kisses turn into sucking deep marks at the vulnerable skin. So’lek only pauses when you manage to crane your head down and capture one of his ears carefully between sharp teeth. The tip of your tongue follows a smooth path at the shell of his ear. It taunts a deep rumble from his chest. 

Pulling back, So’lek hardly gets a chance to witness your pleased smirk before he is caught in another kiss. Unlike the first day in the healer’s tent when you had been hesitant to touch his chest guard, you now use it as your personal leash to bring him closer. Those small hands dig into the tough material and yank without reserve. 

Not that it’s needed. So’lek would gladly crawl at your feet if it means getting to devour you once more. 

However, it quickly becomes not enough. His mouth salivates at the idea of tasting another sweet part he has been dreaming of. You give no struggle when his hand hitches behind your knee, allowing him to curve that long leg around his waist and press your pelvises together. It takes bending his own knees to account for the height difference but it’s worth all of the hassle when feeling the heat that literally radiates through your tewng. 

So’lek suddenly becomes all too aware of how overdressed he is in comparison. That sentiment must be shared because your eyes dance with excitement when he is haphazardly shucking off the chest guards and gear attached. Your own chest piece does little to hide those perfectly shaped breasts, one nipple managing to slip out from under a feather, and even more so does not hide that now red hue over the area. It seems that all your grinding against him, has consequently rutted your chest over his radio and other hard gear. 

Perhaps he should feel bad but all So’lek can think about instead is whether or not his teeth and tongue could exhibit a similar reaction along your perfect breasts. Is the other nipple as hard as the one that has slipped out? 

It’s as if you can read his mind, or rather notice where his gaze has lowered to have him drooling, because without a single prompting you are undoing the clasp and letting the delicate top fall away. 

So’lek would judge any other male for acting the way he does now. So easily reduced to a mouth breathing imbecile just from a natural part of female anatomy. But perhaps he simply didn’t get it until now. Staring at those beautifully pointed nipples and curved breasts the perfect size for his hands, he thinks he may just now understand why a sight like that never gets old. At least, not when it’s yours. 

You grasp the hand not holding your leg, confidently guiding his palm to rest over the right breast. So’lek requires no further invitation. He squeezes and savors the squishy weight in his hand, drawing his thumb over that perky nipple that is begging to be sucked. Delight spikes his blood pressure when he witnesses how his calloused fingertips tighten the bud. 

“So’lek please! I’m not fragile.” 

His name has never sounded so beautiful. Those wicked eyes ensnare him without an ounce of bashfulness. Caught between two temptations So’lek eventually drops your leg in favor of using both hands to explore this new uncovered skin. 

The first time he pinches one nipple between his fingertips and tugs it brings on a sound from your throat so sudden and lewd it makes his cock twitch in its confines. 

“Harder.”

So’lek’s pupils dilate. What a little pain slut you’ve turned out to be and from the blissed expression you wear now, there is not an ounce of you that is ashamed of it. Nor should you be. Every new discovery is a gift So’lek delights in unwrapping. 

“Always so demanding, paskalin.” Voice gravelly and thick with lust, So’lek bends down further until his lips are skating over the swell of your breasts. 

“I’m actually quite a patient person.” Even with labored breath your quip doesn’t lose its whip. 

“Is that so?” It is by no means playing fair, but So’lek latches his lips around your left nipple before letting you respond. He rolls the raised flesh between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to capture the peak and pull it back. 

You have a handful of braids gathered in your grip tightly but they don’t stop the retreat of his head. You let out a guttural groan, rising onto your toes as if to enhance the sharp sting. And still, your determination to get out a response does not falter. 

“I’ve waited for you this long, haven’t I? Agh Eywa mm…flirted with you for weeks waiting for you to take the bait.” 

So’lek switches to the other side, snapping his teeth around the raised bud before muttering, “You poor thing.” 

“Mock me all you want but you’re cruel for making me wait.” A gasp bubbles up your throat when he pinches the disregarded nipple while the other is nipped by his teeth. “A woman has needs, So’lek.” 

Those words have his ears perking in interest, even lapping at the abused flesh so you have a better chance at finishing that thought. 

“Thinking of you with my hand between my thighs is only good for so long before I start wanting the real thing.”

A string of saliva still connecting your nipple to his lips, So’lek pulls back to look up at you. “Is that what you do, paskalin? Touch yourself while you dream about me?” 

Then with zero hesitation, “I was three fingers deep inside myself this morning while I pondered what your cock would feel like down my throat.” 

Static fills his head, the only sound bouncing in his skull is your unabashed confession. This morning. You had been touching yourself to the thought of him this morning. Meaning while he was buzzing with adrenaline, thoughts wild and uncontained at the thought of what if, as he made the trek to the Zeswa camp, you were exploring the parts of yourself he had been dreaming of for weeks while conjuring dirty fantasies of him. So’lek had been spiraling and questioning all of his desires with no knowledge that you were already his for the taking.

And that’s what it has been. Weeks and weeks of him dreaming and wishing and overthinking while you waited patiently for him to untuck his tail and do something about it. How long has he gone on torturing himself while you’ve been right here?

Too long. 

Way too fucking long.

But now, he is determined to make up for every second of lost time. 

“You are trouble.” Voice rough with a rumbling depth, you are unbothered by his change in inflection. 

“I’m just being honest.” You shrug, lips tempted into a crooked smirk. “Don’t ask the question if you can’t handle the answer.” 

Your confident snip simultaneously delights and taunts him. It tugs at the part of him that no longer wants to be gentle or conscientious. You are coaxing out the beast in him that is nothing but teeth, and from your self satisfied smirk it’s clear you know it too. 

So’lek rises back to his full height, dragging his muscular form along your sweet curves until his impressive frame is molded against your own. When you crane your neck to look at him he witnesses your dilated pupils even beneath the shadow that he has cast over you. It’s So’lek’s hand now that roots into your hair, yanking you forward into a demanding kiss. 

He gives no room for air, slotting his nose along yours and devouring you with vengeance. So’lek has to hold back a vicious smirk at the moan you release once he begins sucking on your tongue. Dulls nails dig into his waist, clawing to bring him impossibly closer. They seek to draw blood in retaliation when he finally breaks the kiss. 

“You are not the only one who has been waiting for a taste, paskalin.” 

You grin and lean forward, interpreting that as another filthy kiss coming your way. However, it is not your lips that he speaks of now. Or at least, not those lips. Your tail whips in surprise when large hands begin undoing the string around it. So’lek tugs and digs at those knots without preamble, watching your pretty face as you realize where this is heading. 

Once the offensive garment is ripped away he drops to his knees. His nostrils flare, greedily taking in your thick essence but it's not enough. So’lek roughly yanks one of your legs over his shoulder and his ears twitch to catch your pretty gasp. Now teetering on one leg while the other is curved over his broad shoulder, you are perfectly laid out for him. 

So’lek barely has enough time to appreciate the view before his instincts demand a taste. Intricate stripes along your inner thighs and navel create an alluring path to the treasure between your legs. So’lek runs the tip of his nose along one stripe of your thigh before stopping less than an inch from your soaked cunt. 

Eywa above, his vivid imagination could never compare to the beauty that lies before him now! 

Your needy clit is already engorged, a pretty pearl that begs to be played with. He uses his thumbs to part your lips and get an unobstructed view. Hot breath tickles your sensitive core causing your now displayed entrance to flutter. Watching the way your pussy grasps at nothing has So’lek caught between wanting to drown himself in your juices or fill you with his aching cock. 

“So’lek, you are such a fucking tease I-”

The end of that complaint is strangled into a whine when his lips close around your clit. A small hand pushes at the back of his head. As if he would need the encouragement. So’lek smothers himself in your warmth. Nose slotted between your lips his tongue runs up the sensitive cut of you, collecting every ounce of sticky arousal it can find. The tip of his tongue then circles around that pulsing bud until your clitoral hood is pushed back and he can attack the nerve dead on. 

That action conjures a violent reaction. Hips buck back at him hard enough to have your one supporting leg struggling to remain planted. So’lek takes that as his cue to take pity on you. He slinks the other leg over his shoulder and wraps his arms around your thighs to support the weight. This way he has full control of wrangling your soaked cunt to his lips while you no longer have to focus on standing. 

“Oh Eywa! More…more So’lek…I need more.” Although your voice has flitted into desperate gasps, it loses none of its conviction. 

Your demands push him further, his tongue now spearing into your pussy with a desire to explore. Fuck, even around his tongue you are tight as a vise. So’lek rises to his feet, keeping you sat on his shoulders as your back glides along the tree trunk. If you have a fear of heights it is not voiced as you are pinned against the trunk and ravaged. 

“Right there! Right there! Ah yes! Right-”

That constantly babbling has never been more beautiful than now. His tongue curves to hit that oh so special spot that has your thighs shaking around his head. So’lek’s nails dig into your ass to spread you wider as your own viciously claws into his scalp. 

With the perfect combination of his tongue fucking up into you and his nose rutting along your clit, your first orgasm comes in no time. So’lek drinks up every last drop selfishly. He considers it a reward after all of this time he’s behaved, been patient and tried to get you out of his head. Now that you’ve broken his resolve, it’s only fair that you give him everything that you have. That he collects what belongs to him. 

When So’lek finally peels away, he finds you catching your breath while one hand grips a tree branch above. He’s caught staring but even with a flushed hue over your cheeks, you simply let out a breathy laugh in a daze. Your legs are shaking as he lowers you back onto your feet but that isn’t enough to deter you. 

Half of his face coated in your essence, So’lek graciously obeys the hands that yank him down for another kiss. It seems right that you get to taste how delicious you are too. His big hands wrap around either side of your neck, angling your face upwards and deeper into the kiss. 

Meanwhile, it seems that even in the afterglow of a climax, you can’t refrain from being a minx. Confident hands map the territory of his slim hips and v line before one sneaks back to grab his ass. His dark chuckle is passed between his lips to yours as you hold back a devious smirk. 

“Your turn.” You demand, tugging at the waistband of his loincloth with the patience of a child waiting to unwrap a present. The motion only increases the ache in his groin, somewhat surprised that the piece of fabric has managed to contain his boner. 

So’lek practically jumps out of his skin when you slip past the waistband. His left hand slams against the tree trunk as he groans when you wrap around his base, thumb running up a thick vein. The fire in his eyes matches your own. This is a game of tug a war. Weeks of yearning and dreaming have left both of you utterly insatiable. Matched in intensity, you too are determined to take everything your desired mate has to offer. 

And So’lek is going to deliver it to you on a silver platter. 

That is, after he gets his own chunk of flesh. 

Hastily undoing the string of his tewng, So’lek slots his face into your neck as you start a slow but firm pace stroking him. It is borderline torture, the way you already know how to apply the perfect amount of pressure at the right places while still having your fun sweeping a thumb over his head to collect the precum there. A sweat breaks out along his forehead. He finds himself wishing for a hair tie to wrangle his now messy braids out of the way as he holds back from exploding all over your stomach. 

“You’re so pretty.” You marvel, aroused scent intermingling with his own as you stare down with blown out pupils. Fuck, you are going to kill him if you keep looking at him like that. It’s no wonder his feral instincts have taken over. When yours are already unleashed it’s impossible to hold back. He was a fool for ever thinking he could escape your taunting. 

“No,” So’lek nearly barks when you try to sink down onto your knees. He quickly wraps a firm hand around your bicep to urge you back up. Those plump lips part, no doubt preparing to protest, perhaps say something about how unfair he’s been for once again making you wait. So’lek cuts in before you get the chance. “I need to be inside you. Now.” 

It’s impossible to keep back the rugged timber that takes over his words. Even more so impossible to hide the desperation that fills him to the brim. As much as he is overtaken by the thought of your talented mouth wrapped around him, he knows there is no way he will be able to hold himself back from coming then. And when he reaches that high for the first time with you, So’lek wants nothing more than to be buried deep inside of you, feeling the way you unravel around him. 

But his body is already far too close to the edge. A heat coils in his abdomen and every touch you deposit has his tip leaking more sticky precum. This needs to happen now before he loses it prematurely. 

Luckily, your attitude appears to be put into check by his words. All signs of disappointment quickly shift into a raw fervor, hands grabbing for his shoulders. So’lek takes the cue in stride, hoisting your knee up to his hip and positioning himself at your entrance. 

And then he hesitates. 

So’lek is not small by any means and he has not properly prepared you for him. 

“Oh Eywa,” You groan, “I stretched myself out this morning, So’lek just…please!” 

That whine and pinched expression is borderline distressed and therefore all the encouragement he requires to slink forward. You’re his mate and as you’ve said, a woman has needs. From here on out he is going to be the sole provider for every single one of yours. 

It takes a hand to your hip in order to keep control of his pace sinking inside. So’lek’s hairless brows furrow and muzzle wrinkles at the difficulty required to keep himself from plunging inside with one thrust. Sweet sounds wracking your throat, you provide no help as your hips keep trying to slant forward. At this point there is going to be an imprint of his fingers from where they press into your hip. 

So’lek lets out a harsh breath. 

Stars above, that thought has the potential to send him down a very dark hole. Just thinking about all the ways and places he can mark you has his ball drawing up against his body. 

When he is finally seated all the way inside, pelvis flush against your own, both of you take a moment to breathe. Panted air tickles his chest from where you have your forehead slants against his collarbone. His own nose buries into that luscious hair that he has admired flying in the wind for weeks. 

So’lek’s tail wraps around your planted leg and it’s then that he feels the way you are on the verge of collapsing. Hooking an arm underneath that knee he swipes it to his waist. The new angle makes both of you groan but you are quick to lock both ankles at the base of his spine and cling for dear life. 

This moment is sacred. 

The first of many times that he can feel what it means to be intimately intertwined with you in a way only inferior to making tsaheylu. So much distance he has kept between the two of you only to now gorge himself in a closeness beyond anything he has ever experienced. And someday, someday very soon, it will be even more. Once he has courted you properly, showered you with the love and attention has wanted to give you from the very beginning, the two of you will make the bond. 

A permanent entanglement that he will cherish until the end of his days. 

“So’lek,” You whisper. Nothing but his name against his chest until your right hand is reaching up to brush his cheek. He nuzzles into your palm without thought before ducking down until your cheek is sliding against his own. It’s in this primal act of scenting that his hips finally begin to move. 

Long languid thrusts that have you shuddering against him while his teeth bite into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. In this state you are an open book. Every spike of your pleasure is indicated by the way you squeeze his cock, or dig your nails into his shoulder blades, or even nips at his pulse point. There is nothing demure about your exploration. 

As his pace picks up, now figuring out where that sweet spot is to torment, your soft hands are mapping every inch of him they can reach. His neck, his shoulders, every rigid line of his abdomen. When one hand reaches to squeeze his muscular bicep his tail coils. 

You are matched in desire perfectly, a fact that threatens to coax him into spilling inside of you instantly. So’lek has to grit his teeth to hold back even as your lips find his own again. This kiss is a mess of saliva and haphazard coordination as the increased speed of his thrusts have you jackhammering up the tree trunk. It doesn’t matter. 

All So’lek can focus is your sweet sounds and how eagerly your body welcomes him in. 

“Paskalin,” He groans, barely managing to tear away from your lips. “You are everything.” 

He witnesses the way those words sink in, how long it takes for them to settle before you are able to smile back at him in your disheveled state. This smile is unique from the many others he has seen you wear. It is one not meant for the public eye, a rare form that one can only be seen in an intimate setting like this. A smile that now only shines for him. 

A burst of adrenaline courses through his veins. Tired muscles renew tenfold, cock driving up into you now with uncontained zeal. This burst of energy has him entirely distracted so when a foreign touch suddenly scrapes his kuru, So’lek just about buckles and takes you both to the ground. 

With a hiss he rights himself and pushes you harder against the tree. Nails glide over his protective braid with a featherlight pressure before sweeping over his shoulder and getting dangerously close to the exposed tendrils. 

So’lek’s jaw clamps hard enough to make his teeth ache. 

“Don’t do that, tanhi [star]. You’re going to make me come.” 

“My thoughts exactly.” That devious hitch in your voice cracks when he sends a harsh thrust in reprimanding. 

“I mean it.” He grits. 

“So do I.” Baby hairs plastered to your damp forehead, you stare him down with a renewed fervor. “I want all of you, So’lek. Everything.” 

The dancing tendrils of his kuru are dragged along your shoulder teasingly. His vision zeroes in on the sight, muscles of his abdomen tightening. Your forehead tips against his own, lashes almost kissing his cheek. 

“Please don’t make me beg,” you whisper. 

It’s intentional, the way your pussy clamps around him in a vice like grip as those words leave your lips. So’lek can no longer remember why he was trying to draw this out as he rickets his hips upwards and gets lost in the feeling of his kuru tendrils wrapping around one of your fingers. 

Whatever composure you had temporarily regained becomes frazzled once more as the head of his cock knocks at your sweet spot over and over again with overwhelming accuracy. Your cries muddle together just as your orgasm comes to line up with his. 

So’lek has felt no greater relief than releasing himself deep inside of tight heat. Stars dot his vision while you milk him for all that he is worth, panting against his neck. His kuru is dropped and So’lek’s knees wobble, for the first time finding difficulty in holding both of your weight. 

He becomes a statue following that high. His brain rings with the same dead sound the computers at headquarters make. You are no better off, clinging to him for dear life as your breasts push against him with every rushed exhale. The first movement is your arms cinching tighter around his neck. A strangely innocent and endearing hug considering the lewd entanglement the two of you maintain. 

Gently, So’lek slips out and guides you back onto your feet. He has to scramble when your knees immediately buckle. Swiping his arms beneath your own, he coaxes you to lean your weight on him. 

“Are you alright?” His worried tone is in direct contrast to the breathy laugh you give. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You giggle, clinging to his shoulders. “They’ll work again…eventually.” 

Your eyes crinkle in the same way they do when watching him fall off of a pa’li. So’lek’s lips curve into their own grin. His lips are still stretched wide when he plants tender kisses to your hairline. 

“You smell good,” You hum.

So’lek chuckles fondly before noticing the combined spend that trails down your inner thighs. He has nothing but his gear with him out here in the fields. The only fabric he carries is a small bundle of bandages but he used up the last of it a few days ago. His lips turn down. He will need to be more prepared than this now that he has a mate to look after. 

“Paskalin, let me find something to clean you up with.” 

“No no shhh,” You reach up and place a finger against his lips. “Stop thinking for one second and hold me.” 

So’lek’s heart twists at your little antics, silently obeying your request, shifting both of you to lay on the long grass. Sweaty limbs tangle together, your smaller form messily sprawled across him until your hair is twisted over his abdomen. So’lek slings and arm over your back to cradle you closer. 

This is always the part he has missed. Various partners over the years and yet not one of them holding the tender affection that radiates between the two of you now. The chance to just hold and bask in the other’s presence. Little touches that speak volumes louder than he ever could. So’lek is not good with words. He never says the right thing or in the right way. 

But he can do this. He can drench the sweet brush of his fingertips over your skin with the weight of every confession he has ever been tempted to give you. He can radiate the deep love that blossoms in his chest with every soft kiss to your hairline and swipe of his thumb over your cheek. And he can feel the same devotion reciprocated every time you snuggle further into his chest or trace lines over his abdomen. 

Before long your tail whips out to jest with his curious fingers. He swipes over the thin appendage, watching the way it flickers and circles around his wrist before letting go. The tuft of hair at the end tickles his forearm as it playfully taunts and bats away from his touch. This little game is more amusing than he cares to admit. 

A muffled giggle against his chest tells him that his fixation is not concealed. However, for the first time in weeks he’s allowed to not care. There is no lingering regret at showing his cards to you or betraying his emotions to be analyzed. With you he gets to let that mask fall away, allowing you to see a part of him so vulnerable that So’lek thought it had died off years ago. 

“I will be ready again in about ten minutes.” You state, smiling while tracing the veins of his left arm. The insinuation and expectation is clear and it shakes a surprised laugh from his lungs. 

“And if I am not, paskalin?” So’leks goads with a smirk.

You shift onto your stomach, chin resting atop his chest so that you can look at him directly now. Your tail lashes behind you as you smirk up at him. “Then you better find a way to be.” 

So’lek lets out a low chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Your smile, however, falters when you notice something. Legs still shaky and weak, you try to climb up his chest to get a better look. He’s unsure what you are getting at but So’lek doesn’t hesitate in cinching a hand behind your knee and using that grip to slide you upwards. 

Hairless brows furrowed and bottom lip on the verge of jutting into a pout, one dainty finger runs over the skin beneath his eyes. It is only then he realizes that he must have dark circles beneath his eyes from not sleeping last night. 

“You did not sleep.” 

It truly is of little importance but watching how genuinely concerned you are by it may just be the most endearing thing he has ever witnessed. It reminds him of the day you met. The first time was subjected to your insistent care as he writhed and tried to assure you he was fine. If only back then he knew what he knows now. You always take care of him, of anyone and everyone in your vicinity. 

No matter what front he has put up. Regardless of every effort he has made to convince you and himself that he does not need this, it has never been a match for you. You who not only sees through his walls but knocks them down with that infectious grin. The Great Mother has blessed him with the only woman stubborn enough to break him the way he truly needed. 

“I was up thinking.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Of course you were. What am I going to do with you?” You give him a reprimanding glare but fondness seeps into your beautiful features before you are scooting upwards again. 

So’lek expects a kiss, lashes already flutter over his cheeks in anticipation but then those lips are not touching his. Instead a delicate kiss is placed over each eyelid, as if to kiss the sleep deprivation away. 

When So’lek opens his eyes you are already shuffling to tuck your face against his neck nonchalantly as if you have not made his heart overflow with one simple move. 

This is what Ri’nela had been talking about. Not just surviving but thriving. Have a place to call home, or perhaps in his case someone. For years his sole drive in life has been to repay the RDA for the tragedies they have rained on Pandora, on his clan. That has been his purpose. There has always been something to fight for. 

But for the first time in years he now has someone to fight for as well.  

Please don't hesitate to share your thoughts! I spent way too much time obsessing over this so getting some feedback/interaction would mean the world to me<3

"Taglist" AKA peeps I thought might like this: @pandoraslxna @tallulah477 @eywaite

[billythesimp]

Could I request headcanons for ZZZ Billy, Wise, and Lycaon reacting to his shy gn crush confessing to him please?

Another late-night writing session, another cilent.

[sips my coffee]

Eh- too much sugar... good.

Heartfelt Confessions

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…

I may have done this a little wrong, but I wrote it in the sense of that they boys where enamored with the gn!insert. That they had a crush on them yet the insert confessed to them. I hope I got that right!

Billy / Wise / Lycaon x Shy-Gn!reader

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡…⋙

tw: none?

✦ I’ll be honest, this would probably go over his head at first. Billy is familiar with their mannerisms and is always patient with them. After all, he just adores how they stumble over their worlds when they wish to comment on anything their cute mind is thinking over. So Billy is just standing there, looking at them as they gather their thoughts and admit their growing affects to them. Yet he’s too focused on the dewy glaze over their eyes when they shyly look up at him, the subtle pout on their lips where he could only dream to feel on his face-plates.

✦  But after some moments of quiet and Billy finally registering what it is they said, he’s baffled and exclaiming why someone so amazing- a beacon of joy and pure innocence, a being that anyone would be more than blessed to have been in the presence of when they flash their most radiant smile- would ever like the likes of him! Believe me, if his long pause of silence from before startled them nervous, his own sudden confession made them embarrassed as he’s practically screaming how amazing they are.

✦ But they assure him that they’ve always admired and shortly grew to love his flaws and perfections. That he made them feel safe and how he made them laugh when times grew grim, that he is always too patient and understanding and that no matter what he was told, they’d only see the real him. The person who cheers up a friend, a person who is passionate about the interests of his colleague, a person who is strong and steps up for others who can’t themselves. Billy could feel his gears and joints ache in the need to collapse as their words come out confident and true, wanting to be a mere puddle beneath their feet. Needless to say, he happily accepted after making another scene which only made them more embarrassed.

✦ His crush has been working part-time at the store with them, always helping them out with returns and promotional materials. So when Belle left to run some errands and it was just them two, Wise was shocked at first when they asked to speak with him in private. So in the staff room, they rushed out their confession that Wise was worried that they could have bitten their tongue and tried to calm them down.

✦ He holds their arms gently and tells them that it’s alright and how he’s nothing but happy to hear this. He’ll admit, he’s known about their affections for a while after all he’s Wise, cunning and sharp with attention to details. That and while he won’t admit it, Belle has at times helped him figure out if they really do like him. The teasing she and Eous gave him, if word got out to you he’d probably die there and now. Maybe he should have gone through Fairy and see to it that any camera recording of the incident be deleted.

✦ Seeing as he all accepted their confess, they smile happily before he pulls them into a tight hug, heart beating as he finally could do all the things he wanted now that they knew he liked them- no, cherished their affect and love. He couldn’t wait to bombard them with the soft touches, lingering kisses and teasing whispers that he has held back out of respect and belief that they were nothing more than just friends, co-workers, allies. That is, if they would be mentally ready as he notices how fidgety and flushed they became at the simple gesture of affection. Yeah, he’ll go slow with them for sure, but he was nothing but excited.

✦ Lycaon cares dearly for his proxy and always attempts to keep things professional between the two. However, it proves difficult when they always depend on them when working together, always seeking him out and giving him the time of day while others probably wouldn’t. He holds them closely to his heart, so anytime they call on him, he’s at attention and can’t help but have to hold back the need to kneel before them and pledge loyalty there. Which would have made them more nervous and flushed when they ask about what they are.

✦ Of course, they’ve noticed his attention to detail in their mannerism and how he’s always stepping up to help them should they grow to shy to order or help solve their problem they thought dumb and meaningless. They are scared of ruining this little bond of theirs, but Von could only assure them that their feelings are true, that he would be an idiot should he not accept their confession as he too has nothing but love filled for them. He compromised that they’ll still hold a professional work relationship but in private, he’d want nothing more than to be theirs.

✦ The way they blush and start fidgeting with a strand of hair, he hadn’t noticed how his tail swayed happily despite the calm and clear demeanor he displayed. The mere motion made them only awe at how cute he was, taking his gloved hand as he lifted it towards his muzzle. The lightest of kisses on the back of their hand, skin warmed at the touch as he only stares with those dark red eyes of his. Piercing as to say they were his as he is theirs, a bond stronger than human- one of the beast and their tamer.

[hello-gloomy]

So I was thinking. A stanley snyder x reader where Stanley and reader have a one-night stand (no detail if you obviously don't feel comfortable) but its not necessarily supposed to be like that- reader basically disappears in the morning and stan didn't get her number...

Maybe Stanley kind of wants to find her but he can't and reader actually ends up getting pregnant (from one-night stand with Stanley).

And then like she actually ends up being on the same team as Senku with his daughter/son post petrification??

Ignore this if you want. I was just rambling!! Have a lovely day!! And take some rest and breaks please!!

I may have strayed away a bit, but I hope this satisfies you. I also hope you don't mind that I named our son lol.

-------------------

Mini-Me

Stanley Snyder x Fem!Reader

Description: Meeting back up with some previous allies who were also on the ocean leads to the past finally catching up with Stanley with a sweet surprise(s)

Warnings: One curse, manhandling a child lol, light angst, named child of yours and Stanley's making, chaotic uncle Xeno ofc, big brother Senku in the background.

A/N: probably one of my favorite asks ngl.

Words: 863

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"Hey, kid, where's your mom at?"

"She's taking roll call and checking supplies."

"Alright, you got the coordinates for your position?" The little boy told Senku their location and that their ships would meet soon. Senku hung up, and the crew looked at him expectantly. Most of the original members knew who they were meeting up with, but a few of the others didn't. He just shrugged and told them they'd see some allies soon. Senku went up to the deck, and a few others followed him.

"Hey! There's a ship approaching us!" Kohaku announced from the lookout, and everyone rushed to the ship's front end to spot the other vessel.

"Is that a fucking pirate ship?"

"Technically, yes." Stanley gave the junior scientist an unimpressed look. The vessel docked close by, threw out a boarding bridge, and joined the group on the Perseus. A line was shot out, and a boy with blonde hair zip-lined across and landed on the deck next to what they could tell was the ship captain. You scruffed up your son's blonde hair, let him run off to cause trouble, and went to go and greet Senku.

"Your crew got bigger," You offer him while shaking his hand. He huffs at you in return.

"Want an introduction?"

"I would have dinner first, young man." He rolls his eyes and leads the way to the dining area, announcing an early dinner, much to everyone's happiness. Ryusui announces a party at a reunion of allies, and everyone cheers. Carrying his crossbow on his back and holding his skateboard in his arms while trying to find clear ground to ride it on the crowded deck, he almost crashes when a strong pair of gloved hands saves him and lifts him in the air.

"Are you alright?" Stanley asks while placing the kid back on his feet. When the boy turns and faces him, he feels a strong feeling of whiplash while looking at him. He's the spitting image of himself from when he was a kid; it was a jarring sight. The child was watching him with just as curious eyes. Stanley drops down into a crouch to meet the boy in an eye-level gaze.

"What's your name?"

"Sonata…Sonata Snyder." Stanley felt his heart tighten in his chest, which meant after that night, This was his son, his and your son.

"Sonata!" You jogged down the hallways to see where he had run off so quickly. The second you saw who he was with, though, made you stop dead in your tracks; god, he was just as stunning as those nights in the club. You held your hand to your mouth, all the emotions welling up in your throat simultaneously. Stanley stood up, hoisted his son into the air on his hip, and strode over to you; you took a step back in surprise, but that didn't stop him. He grabbed your hand and made you look at him; the tears started to fall freely now.

"It wasn't just a one-time thing for me." You let out a sob at his words and felt a little hand rubbing the tears from your eyes; you looked at both of them, Your boys.

"It wasn't for me either." You kissed him with all the passion you had in your body. You heard a little gross beside you, and both of you laughed at your son; you showered him in kisses, and Stanley also decided to join in.

"That's your daddy, baby." You told him while messing with his little tufts of gold on his head. The three of you talked a bit more in the hallway before Stanley made a face and shared a thought with you both.

"Let's go meet your uncle Xeno." You chuckled to yourself about the torture the doctor was about to go through. Sonata ran off ahead, and you picked up his skateboard as you walked beside Stanley. He grabbed your hand again and pulled you close.

"Will you start again with me?" he asked as you walked. You looked up at him.

"Yes."

"An Elegant looking child. And the spitting image of you nonetheless, Stan." Xeno told both of you while looking at Sonata. The boy couldn't stop laughing at all the attention his new uncle was giving him. The doctor sat back down and let the child climb over him while the boy explained his crossbow when asked about it. The three of you couldn't help but smile.

"I suppose I have another little soldier now." You couldn't help but burst out laughing while Stanley smiled proudly.

"I'll have to construct you a unique firearm like I do for your Father now," Xeno spoke while holding your son's crossbow.

"Yes, please encourage his shooting habits." You tease while looking at Stanley, who looks ecstatic to have a new shooting partner.

"Yo, it's dinner time." Senku poked his head in, looked at the scene before him, and let out a small 'huh' like he finally concluded a discovery."

"That's who he looks like." He shrugged and closed the door behind him; you smiled again and looked between them, 'Yeah, that's who he looks like, alright.'

[chibinasuu]

Back to You | Law x Reader

Part 2 of Promises

Summary: It had been months since Law left the Heart Pirates to go on a solo mission to Punk Hazard. Today was the day he would finally be reunited with you and his crew at Zou. Tags: sfw, spoiler for punk hazard/dressrosa/zou, GN but written with F!reader in mind, no use of y/n

a/n: part two of Promises is finally here!! i knooww it's long overdue, and i can only hope that this was worth the wait 😭 thank you to everyone who has been patient with me, and the ones who care enough about this fic to ask about pt 2 on my inbox 🥺 also, to everyone who's reading this for the first time, welcome and thanks for taking a chance on my story!! please enjoy <3

It had been three months, twenty-three days, and eight hours since Trafalgar Law last saw his crew—since the last time he saw you. 

One foot after another, he strode carefully through the forest, following the directions of the small piece of paper on his palm that would lead him to his navigator. He knew that was where you and the rest of his crew would be, too.

At first glance, the forest seemed just like any other. Except the ground was not dirt, but rough, uneven skin that made walking difficult. The crowns of some of the trees grew in spherical formations, made up of curious, scale-like leaves.

Law still couldn't wrap his head around how he was treading on the back of an ancient, impossibly gigantic elephant. It seemed absurd, but granted, he had seen weirder things in his life.

His heart pounded faster the deeper he ventured into the forest. Then, finally, a telltale rustling from the bushes around him made him stop in his tracks.

A smirk crept up his face.

"Captain!!"

"You came for us!"

A chorus of excited shouts greeted him as the Heart Pirates rushed out, led by a blur of white fur in orange clothing.

Law leaned back, bracing himself as the polar bear mink body-slammed right into him, but the force still managed to knock the wind out of him.

"I missed you!" Bepo sobbed as he clung to his Captain, "All members of the Heart Pirates are here!"

"Oi, Bepo. Do you want to crush him?" Penguin chided, even though he, himself, couldn't hold back a grin at seeing his Captain and best friend again.

The quiet forest was instantly alive with the chatter of Heart Pirates, talking one over the other, and demanding to know whether the Captain was injured anywhere, what he had been up to since they were separated, and was it true that they were allies with the Straw Hats now?

Law tried his best to answer their questions in turn, but his focus was elsewhere. His eyes wandered, and his heart fell when you weren't anywhere in his line of sight.

Shachi eventually shushed the group, "We have plenty to catch up on. Let's go further into the forest for now."

As Penguin and Shachi ushered the crew back into the forest, they each gave your shoulders firm pats, wordlessly letting you know that they would keep the crew busy for a while to give you some privacy with the Captain.

And then, as the Hearts retreated, Law finally got a glimpse of you, standing rooted to your spot at the back of the group. His lips rose into an uncharacteristically gentle smile.

Alone at last, Law shortened the distance between you, “Hey."

His smile instantly dropped, however, when he was met with the slight pout and tremble of your lips.

The mere sight of him, the mere sound of his voice… You couldn't hold yourself together much longer, and hot tears started streaming down your face.

You opened your mouth, trying to say something, anything, but no words would come out. In your frustration, your fists ended up finding his chest, shoving and pounding weakly as you tried to control your sobs, to no avail.

To say that Law was stunned was an understatement.

His arms reached out, but he pulled back at the last second, unsure whether embracing you was the right thing to do at this moment.

"H-hey, what's wrong?"

Law didn't get it.

He was here, he was safe. Hadn't he fulfilled his promises to you?

He didn't get it—until you took a piece of paper out of your pocket, and brought it up to his eyeline, “I watched this burn, Law."

Oh.

With the Captain mending and on his way to full recovery, the paper was as whole and pristine as the day he gave it to you. It almost seemed like a hallucination, but only days ago, you had watched helplessly as it got smaller and smaller, the fire burning away as his life force weakened.

You were ready to take the Polar Tang and follow the Vivre Card to wherever Law was… if only you and the rest of the Hearts weren't also fighting for your lives, defending your navigator's hometown against Jack and the Beast Pirates.

Law never saw you cry like this, and certainly not over him. It felt like someone had taken his heart out of his chest and squeezed it—believe him, he knew exactly how that feels.

He admitted that he was not proud of how his emotions got the best of him during his fight with Doflamingo, back at Dressrosa. He was too rash, too reckless, and in doing so, he completely abandoned his promise to you to be careful.

He remembered lying there in a pool of his own blood, right arm completely severed from his body, screaming in agony while Doflamingo's menacing figure loomed over him.

He remembered how powerless he had felt.

It must've been then that the Vivre Card had started to burn. When his eyesight had gone blurry and the gaping wound on his arm had begun to go numb. When even Law himself was on the brink of giving up, thinking that he wouldn't make it out of there alive.

“I’m sorry, I didn't realize—” His voice cracked. His fingers twitched, yearning to reach for you, but he forced his hands to stay by his side. "I'm sorry."

Guilt and shame suddenly washed through you.

No, he shouldn't be the one saying sorry—not after what he must've gone through to get here.

You should've welcomed him with a long hug, with gentle kisses, with whispered words of comfort. But here you were instead, having a meltdown.

How could you let your first reaction to seeing him again be this? How could you let yourself be so overwhelmed by your own feelings that you didn't even stop to consider his?

Yet, try as you might, the tears just wouldn't stop flowing.

"No, I'm sorry." You let out another choked sob, "I'm sorry, I don't know why I can't stop crying."

You lifted your head, only to find his gaze already locked on you.

Law surged forward, and you met him halfway. 

Strong arms wrapped around your body, whilst your shaking hands clung desperately to the clothes on his back. You buried your face into his chest, leaving wet stains all over his shirt.

They were tears of relief, you belatedly realized.

All of your fears, your worries, your unease—everything you had been trapping in a little bubble inside your heart burst open, washed away by the immense relief you felt the moment you saw him.

“I was so scared, Law.” You whispered your confession, “I-I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

“I’m sorry." Law's arms tighten around you, if that was even possible, "I should've been more careful.”

“No, don't apologize. Please." You let out a long sigh, "I'm really happy you're here.”

His lips landed on your temple, painfully reminiscent of the last kiss he gave you just before he left for Punk Hazard.

"You're here. You're safe." You repeated the words again and again like a mantra while you held on tight to him, to convince yourself that this was real—that this wasn't just another one of your dreams that had haunted you when he was away.

Of course, there were the countless nightmares where you lost him, which always had you waking up with cold sweat. But there were also dreams where he was home and safe in your arms, until you’d wake up and realize he wasn't actually there. The void of loneliness that came after those dreams was not something you'd ever want to experience again.

Law pulled back, just slightly, so he could take your face in. His brows furrowed as his fingers started to inadvertently fidget with your hair.

He looked like he wanted to say something, so you waited silently until he was ready to speak.

“Back in Dressrosa, when I—“ His words got stuck in his throat as the towering form of Doflamingo flashed again through his mind, "All I could think about was regrets."

He could still feel the thick, iron scent of blood invading his nose.

He could still feel the dust of the rubble invading his lungs as he desperately choked for air.

Law shut his eyes and rested his forehead against yours, "I regretted many things—how I couldn't avenge Cora-san, how I was not strong enough to defeat Doflamingo…"

"It doesn't matter anymore." You said, brushing your thumb across his cheek, "You did all that in the end. It's over now."

Before he left, you promised that you would be there for him when it was all over. That was a promise you very much intended to keep at all costs.

Law was quiet for a moment before he spoke up again.

“There was another thing I regretted.”

You noted the unexpected shift in his tone, how the softness was a stark contrast to the fiery determination behind his eyes.

"I thought about you," he admitted, covering your hand on his cheek with his own, "About how I would break all of our promises if I died. About how I longed to see you again, just one more time. About how stupid I was for not relying on you and the crew. About how much I wanted to get back to you."

He quickly continued, not letting you interrupt as he bared his heart, “I thought about how I regretted never telling you that… that I—"

He gulped. A speck of fear flickered across his eyes, but he didn't let it take over.

"That I love you."

Your breath morphed into a silent gasp, your heart skipping a beat before resuming its erratic rhythm.

"I promised myself that I would tell you, if I somehow survived. And I did. So…"

He cupped your face, his gaze sincere, and repeated, "I love you."

"Oh, Law." You whispered as tears started welling up in your eyes again.

You couldn't stop yourself from rushing in, your lips finally finding home in his. Law melted into you, love and longing outpouring from his every touch.

The kiss started out gentle, until the taste of you after months apart proved to be too much of a temptation for Law. A muffled groan escaped him, and he started chasing your lips with a hunger that surprised even himself.

Your hand dove into his thick hair, pulling him toward you in answer to his passion. One of Law's hands wandered to your waist, gently squeezing, while the other remained cradling your face with a startling tenderness.

Your lips parted, giving him permission to deepen the kiss, which he took up instantly.

Kissing Law was as natural as breathing. It felt like you had been doing this for ages, even though the first time you kissed was on the very eve of his departure.

The urge to get closer to each other got you stumbling over your own feet, and suddenly, your back was pressed against a tree, Law's hand cushioning your head from the coarse bark.

You could keep on kissing him forever, but there was something you needed to tell him first. So, reluctantly, you pulled away.

“In case that wasn't clear enough,” You said breathlessly against his lips, "That means I love you, too."

Law grinned—a genuinely joyful smile—before capturing your lips again. The kiss was short this time, almost playful, but it didn't fail to make your heart skip a beat anyway.

When you parted, you punched his chest lightly, “But don’t ever leave me again.”

“I'm not planning to.”

He chuckled and pulled you back into his embrace, hugging you so tightly that it made breathing difficult—not that you were complaining.

You stayed like that for a while, unmoving, greedily indulging in the closeness that you both had been craving the whole time you were apart.

“So, what now?” You finally broke the silence.

“Well, the next part of the plan is to take down Kaido in Wano.”

You looked up at him, but Law already knew what you were going to ask before you even opened your mouth.

"Don't worry, you're all coming with me." He reassured you, "I'm done doing things alone."

"Good." You rested your cheek back on his chest.

"Let's get back to the crew, shall we? I'm sure they're wondering what's taking us so long."

Speaking of the crew…

"Ah, just a heads up, some—well most, if not all of them have kinda figured out about…" Heat rose to your cheeks as you vaguely gestured between you and Law, "This. Us."

"Well, that makes it simpler, doesn't it? I don't plan to flaunt our… relationship to the crew, but I don't intend to hide it either." Law took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, "I just want to be with you."

Your heart quickened. Who knew your Captain had it in him to be such a romantic?

"Unless, that's not what you want?" He added quickly, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"No! I want to be with you too, Law." Your face warmed further at the thought of what a relationship with him would entail, "And I don't want to hide either."

He smiled, "Good."

You wrapped your arms around him again and sighed blissfully. Now that he was finally here, you were finding it difficult to not be touching him every damn second. Your crew would never let the two of you live it down if they ever saw you like this.

"Just brace yourself for endless teasing and interrogation from our nosy crewmates." You chuckled, "They got me good on our way here from Punk Hazard, and it’s just gonna get worse, now that you’re here."

Law sighed, already exhausted just thinking of what he would have to go through. Most of his crew would probably lay off the teasing with a sharp glare from him. Not Penguin and Shachi, though. They'd corner him and wouldn't let him go until he told them everything down to the very minute details.

But despite that, he smiled softly, giving you one last peck on the lips before he let you lead him deeper into the forest, where his crew was waiting.

He could endure some teasing, Law thought as he gripped your hand tightly. After all, he was here, he was safe, reunited with you and the rest of his Hearts.

And wherever his path would bring him next—in Wano and beyond—Law knew that you all would be there with him every step of the way.

That was truly all he ever needed.

taglist: @entr4p3 @sammybeefangirls @thekatisspooky @4rticbolt @mnnlights @angelsforever999 @game-of-words

⟢ masterlist

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism (lmk if i forgot anything!) murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, oral sex, thigh riding, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here

chapter: 1/? (chapter 2 here)

MASTERLIST

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

A/N: this is what happens when i let my brain loose to do whatever tf it wants (title is from attention by doja cat as is the general theme)

Show you how to touch it Hold it like it's precious It don't need your lovin' It just needs attention

You were getting tired of this charade.

Snow was courting you, or so it would seem. In truth, it was all for show. He was seen with you on his arm at public events, just enough to make it look like you were together. Marriage was probably further down the line, but Snow was in no rush for that to happen. For now, he was pleased with the positive attention he received for appearing like a reliable, loving, doting partner.

“There’s a science behind it,” Cordelia, Snow’s preferred public relations manager - and one of the Capitol’s best - had told you in a meeting between the three of you, discussing strategy, coordinating events, and how best to make the relationship seem authentic. “The more the public see you as grounded, committed, and warm, the more respect they hold for you. The more open they are to your ideas, and any changes you make as president.”

You’d concealed your smirk well enough for it to go unnoticed upon hearing that.

Snow was a lot of things, but he was never warm. The name itself decreed it. He was cold, calculating, sharp witted, manipulative. Power hungry.

You were fine with the arrangement at first. It suited your thirst for power; despite coming from one of the richest families in the capital, Snow’s power was of a different breed. You wanted in, and so when your social circles crossed over and the proposition was made, you’d risen to the occasion.

The reality was this: it was a good arrangement. Coriolanus was adored and admired by any outsider with a pair of eyes, and you got anything you wanted. You got to live in the manor house Coriolanus occupied, eating good food while being waited on hand and foot. You got to network with powerful people in the highest of society. Even if you wanted someone executed, it would be carried out in turn, without question. Name it, and it was yours. Snow was a generous host and ally to you.

It was everything you wanted.

Almost.

Somehow, despite it all, all the custom gowns shipped in from the expensive designers, the buffet spreads and the silk sheets, the way that people had begun to stare in respect as soon as you walked into a room, there was just one thing that itched at you, one thing you knew wasn’t part of the plan.

It was Snow.

Somewhere, between the light kisses in front of expectant eyes, the gentle hand on yours at dinner, that was hurriedly removed once you were behind closed doors again, you’d grown a gnawing, incessant want towards the man that had given you almost everything you could ever hope for.

Eight months, this had been going on. Eight months since Snow suggested this business proposal. Sex was never a part of the deal. And of course, you couldn’t sleep with anyone you pleased; that would be catastrophic for both of your reputations. And so it had been eight months since anybody had touched you other than yourself, biting your pillow so nobody could hear Snow’s name on your lips as you gripped the sheets. Even if you wanted to sleep with other people, you couldn’t. Truth is though, you’d developed rather expensive taste. A taste for only him. Even if you had the choice, nobody else would do.

You wondered if he ever thought of you while he touched himself. That thought slipped into your head every so often, when your hand was between your thighs. Then it became a more frequent occurrence. Then it became a nightly one, and by then, you were pretty sure you’d started going crazy.

You weren’t a romantic - this arrangement would never have worked if you were. You were like him; power hungry, relentless, impatient. And most of all, when you wanted something, you got it. And you wanted to seduce Coriolanus Snow.

So you’d started leaving breadcrumbs. Put an extra glint in your eyes when you glanced over at him, in public, first, and then in private more and more. You’d thrown out dozens of your more conservative dresses, keeping only the shortest ones that hugged your hips and dropped tantalisingly low on the neckline. Started wearing them more around the house, pretending to drop things just so you could bend down in front of him.

You estimated this act would last for a good week or two before Snow folded.

You were wrong.

If anything, it seemed to render Snow even more indifferent to you than he’d been before you started playing your little games. And each time he ignored you, glanced unimpressed at your outfit then looked away, or full-on walked right past you out the room, you started to simmer even more.

A normal girl in a normal situation would take a hint, cut her losses. But you were no normal girl, and this was no ordinary situation.

You had to be in the same boat, surely. Snow was still just a man, after all. A man with similarly limited options, and you knew he must’ve at least found you a little attractive, else he wouldn’t have chosen you to parade around on his arm in public, in pretty dresses and expensive jewellery.

Snow’s indifference only fuelled your fire. Sure, an ordinary girl would just give up. But eight months of this torture and you were at your breaking point. Besides, it was either him, or nobody. You weren’t giving up. Not in this lifetime.

So you got more obvious. Started taking breakfast in your nightgown each morning instead of getting dressed, sitting opposite Coriolanus with several feet of the mahogany table between you, biting into grapes from the fruit bowl and letting the juice trail down your chin, wiping it off then sucking your fingers clean, humming with your digits in your mouth, glancing at him with full-blown bedroom eyes when he’d look over at you from behind his paper.

It was no use. Nearly a month had passed and he’d barely even looked at you for more than a second at a time. Your conversations were short, lacklustre and strictly business related. You’d even tried playing on his heartstrings, asking about his day and work and his family. You were lucky if you got more than blunt, one-worded answers every time.

You’d exhausted yourself with all these failed attempts, until one Thursday night you heard footsteps walking past your bedroom door. This wasn’t abnormal - Snow kept extensive household staff - except for the sound of these were different. You recognised the faint clicking of heels against the hardwood, a sound you heard all the time at galas and balls, but never in these halls, when an event was nowhere on the radar. And this was one such night.

Your curiosity led you off your bed and to the door, gently opening it to glance outside. Whoever it was had turned the corner, the clicking fading down the hallway. You carefully closed the door behind you and began to follow the sound. A chill ran up the backs of your legs as you walked; it was getting slightly colder as winter closed in, and your bedroom attire wasn’t exactly fit for the weather, given that you picked out the laciest, most impractical slips to sleep in, ready for your performance the next morning at breakfast.

You paced down the corridor, winding past the door to each room, a study, a small library (the larger one was downstairs), Snow’s office, and then finally, at the end, the door to Snow’s bedroom.

Oh.

This room was always enigmatic to you, as you’d never been inside. Your obsession with Snow had led you to wonder, day in and day out, what lay behind that door. The color of his bedsheets, what sat on his dresser, the contents of his closet, what aftershave he wore that had caused you to develop a practically pavlovian reaction anytime he got close to you.

You paused, a few feet away from the door, fearing Snow’s response if you crossed that line, if he were to walk out and find you hovering between his office and his room, clearly attempting to eavesdrop.

You heard shifting, then voices inside as you focused all your attention onto listening, trying hard to pick up on the conversation. You took another tentative step forward, practicing in your head what you would say if he stepped outside. I just wanted to ask what you wanted me to wear on Monday’s gala, I was thinking the white dress with the gold detailing. It wasn’t too late in the evening for that to be a viable excuse, if you could make it sound convincing enough.

But as you got closer you noticed something. There was a soft light spilling out from behind the door, which was in fact, just slightly ajar.

Snow usually kept the door locked at all times, you knew that from testing the handle - admittedly more than a few times - when he had been out of the house, and you were certain he wouldn’t be home for hours. This was something different. This felt dangerous, like walking a tightrope that was about to get cut, but the thrill of adrenaline pushed you forward.

You’d stopped hearing voices by then. You snuck ever closer, ears starting to ring as you found yourself drawn to the open door, taking silent steps towards it until there was no going back, and your body was practically flush to it. Holding your breath, you peeked through, pushing it ever so gently, praying that it wouldn’t creak. You had to crane your neck slightly to see any movement in the room, but it didn’t take long to see it, and when you did, you certainly didn’t feel cold anymore. Any curious whims on the color of his furniture and walls were long pushed to the side, because you couldn’t have focused on anything else in the room if you tried.

Snow was sat on a deep red velvet ottoman at the foot of his bed, shirt buttons undone and pushed behind him, leaving you with a full view of his chest. Your eyes panned down to see his usually pristine dress pants rolled carelessly down, pooling around his ankles. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows in a similarly rushed manner. One hand was behind him, propping himself up, and the other was tightly gripping a handful of blonde hair, belonging to a girl that knelt at his feet in nothing but black underwear and stiletto heels - the culprit of the footsteps - moving her head up and down as Snow roughly guided her, lips parted, head tipped back, eyes firmly shut, breathing roughly. A few strands of damp blonde hair had fallen to his temples, just enough to make him look disheveled, yet somehow still regal, like a greek god.

You stood there, frozen. A million emotions battling for dominance in your head, anger, panic, fear, raging jealousy. Desire.

That was the one that stuck with you in the moment. It was a good thing Snow’s eyes were closed and the girl’s back was facing you, because your feet were firmly planted on the ground, watching this scene unfold, and you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere even if you tried. Watching as Snow’s breathing got heavier, as his grip on the girl’s hair got tighter and more forceful. Watching as her one arm gripped his thigh, and the other moved to where her mouth was, out of your eyeshot, and the obscenity of this was made somehow worse by the fact that you couldn’t see exactly what was happening.

Firstly, because it allowed your brain to fill in the blanks as Snow hissed through his teeth and dropped his head back. Secondly, because from this angle, you couldn’t see the girl’s face, and you were able to picture yourself in her place, wet mouth wrapped around him, being the cause of his undoing.

Come to think of it, there was another reason you were glad you couldn’t see her face, and it was purely for her sake. Because if you could’ve seen her, you would’ve had no excuse not to kill the bitch then and there.

You could hear, though. You could hear her soft moans and the lewd wetness of her mouth as her head moved even faster, before Snow took full control as his hips started to jerk, holding her head in place. There was a fire in the pit of your stomach and your lips were parted, staring. Knowing that if even for a second, Snow opened his eyes just for a glance, he’d see you immediately. You’d be hanged, probably. Or worse. And yet you didn’t run; you couldn’t. Nothing on God’s earth could’ve caused your feet to turn you around and leave the room. It was like you were suspended in some dream-like state, hearing going fuzzy, head spinning.

Then Snow started groaning, breath hitching in his throat as he got closer to the edge, you could hear it. Your brain began melting, and you didn’t have time to think through what would happen after he was finished and he saw you. If you were going to be hanged for this, it would be worth it, you thought, as his hips started to jerk even faster and his groans turned into strained whispers. Fuck and that’s it and good girl, and finally, as his eyes squeezed shut even tighter, and he came into her mouth with a strangled cry, you heard a name.

Yours.

[notonlymice]

Ally x Rush: "you are the last thing my heart expected"

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 13 - Meet Me In Volgograd

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic. CW: +18 content MDNI, Sex, PiV sex, threesome (MMF, voyeurism, fingering, oral (M receiving), mastabation. AN: OMG IT’S HAPPENING. I was going to post this tomorrow. I just got too excited

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

Johnny wakes you after what feels like only a few minutes of sleep. When he’s shaking you awake in the uncomfortable bed it finally hits you how tired you are. You haven’t had a proper sleep since leaving the safehouse the second time. 

“So who’s Nikoli?” You ask as you drag yourself out the bed. You don’t really care but you’ll do anything to keep yourself awake, even asking dumb questions. 

“Old friend of John’s.” 

“John?” You ask pulling your clothes on.

“Price.” You frown at him. 

“You’re both called John? Doesn’t that get confusing?” You ask pulling your boots on. 

“Na, not really. Most of the time people call John; Price, Cap or dickhead.” 

“Really?” You say raising an eyebrow. He shakes his head chuckling.

“C’mon wanna get some breakfast?” You shake your head sighing. 

“I want to get a few hours rest on the plane, it feels like I haven’t slept in days.” You say pulling your jacket on. He nods throwing a bag over his shoulder and picking up the AR standing in the corner of the room. 

“Alright, let's go then.” He stops at the door without opening it. He turns to you, you can see colour rushing to his cheeks.

“Are you- I mean last night.” He grips the barrel of his weapon tighter. “Are you, you know… safe?” 

“Christ. Are you this awkward with every girl you sleep with?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“I have the injection thing.” You say pointing at your arm. Now he frowns.

“Do you have a boyfriend or something?” You shake your head. 

“Me and Ivan, we had a business arrangement. It wouldn’t exactly be good for anyone if the smuggler got pregnant with the handler. He made sure it wouldn’t happen.” Johnny looks a little taken aback by the admission. He nods and turns back to the door opening it.

…

You sleep almost the whole journey to Russia. Nikoli seems nice, you just didn’t have the energy to be friendly with him. Russian, that you expected, you’re surprised Price had allies in Russia, maybe he’s the type of person who has allies everywhere. Johnny shakes you awake again handing you a headset.

“We’re touching down a few kilometres outside of Volgograd. They’ve sent us coordinates of the place they’re hiding out in.” Johnny shouts over the sound of the tiny plane's engine. 

“Are they in the town?” You shout back. 

“Yeah, it should take us a few hours to reach them. They’re keeping tabs on Makarov.” 

“Do they know where he is?” You ask back. 

“Maybe, there’s a Konni stronghold just outside the city. Price thinks that’s where we can get some answers.” Johnny says. You nod looking out the window at the ground below, fields upon fields of Russian countryside.

“Volgograd is pretty, and close to the border. Good Place for Konni to set up shop.” Nikoli says. You can't see him from the chair you picked and Johnny is blocking the door to the cockpit.

“Ever been?” Johnny asks, turning back to look at him. 

“No, it’s a big place, you should try their local cheese.” Nikolai says. Johnny smiles, you yawn and turn to look back out the window. You can see a massive lake come into view. 

…

You landed in a field. Nikoli handed you a massive duffle bag of supplies Price had requested then said his goodbyes. You ran across to a crooked fence surrounding the field as Nikoli took off again. The sun was high in the sky but it’s still cold.

“What are we going to do? Steal a car again?” You ask as you watch Nikoli fly off.

“Na, let’s just walk. We could use the exercise.” He says winking at you.

“What didn't you get enough last night?” You tease him. The thought of a 5 kilometer walk was not exactly on your list of things you wanted to do today. Johnny seems enthusiastic about it even with his wounded arm. 

It looks better, it’s wrapped in compression bandages but with the cream and anti-inflammatory medication the doctors had him taking he doesn’t complain. Your stomach wound on the other hand has been giving you nothing but trouble and last night’s antics just meant you’d pulled on the stitches and now it’s irritated. Nothing a good fistful of painkillers can’t keep on top of. 

The walk turned out to be not as bad as you thought. Johnny talked the whole way, talking about missions they’ve done in Russia, more about why they’re after Makarov. You’re glad he’s talking again, yesterday he was too quiet, it was weird. When you make it to the town it already feels like it’s getting dark, clouds have moved in making the whole place feel moody. 

The town is busy even as you make your way into the outskirts. You’re both dressed in civilian clothes but with the massive duffle bags you have thrown over your shoulders people's eyes still follow you. They know you’re outsiders here, at least you can speak Russian. 

It doesn’t take you long to find the place based on the info Price sent to Johnny. When you make it to the townhouse you feel even more out of place than ever, down the street there is an old woman with no teeth drilling her eyes into you. The quicker you can get inside the better, you already feel like you’ve drawn enough attention to yourself. 

It’s Ghost who opens the door, dressed all in black with that skull mask he wears all the time. It makes goosebumps rise on your body. 

“Privet.” Johnny says with a little salute before Ghost moves to the side letting you both come in. The building is worn out, it looks abandoned. The stairs up to the second floor are bowing in and the windows are boarded up, although from the outside it just looked like the curtains were drawn.

You follow Ghost into what would have been a dining room although now the place is just a table with some chairs, the kitchen is in a similar state of disrepair. You dump the bag down at the foot of the table. 

“Survived the flight with Nikoli then?” Gaz asks, coming over. He places his hand on your back smiling before reaching down and unzipping it. You see it crammed full of gear, weapons and some electronics. 

“I slept the whole way.” You say. You move over to the table sitting down on one of the chairs looking at the papers on the table. Some are maps, with markers.

“Joh- Soap said you think there's a place nearby where Makarov is hiding?” You say swallowing hard, you’ll have to get used to calling him Soap again. At least while you’re around the others.

“Konni compound, we don’t know if Makarov will be there but we will be able to find answers.” Price says. 

“We’ve seen Al Qatala and Konni moving in and out the building.” Gaz says putting the laptop on the table. Price pulls it over to him and sits down. 

“No Makarov?” Soap asks as he comes over with a bottle of water in his hand. 

“Not yet.” Ghost says coming over to the table and crossing his arms.

“But we know he’s here, Laswell has been keeping track of him.” Gaz says.

“Sorry to be the sceptic here but are you sure you haven’t missed him?” You say raising an eyebrow. 

“There’s a chance, that's why if he's gone we know we will find intel in the building as to where he is.” Price says.

“Okay, when do we get moving?” Soap asks. 

“Few hours, as soon as it’s dark and the day shift has left. It’ll leave us with only Al Qatala in the building.” Price says. You nod, getting up out of the chair. 

“I’m going to take a nap then.” You say stretching and looking over at Soap. He smiles at you. “Bedrooms are upstairs I assume?” 

“Yeah, help yourself.” Gaz says and you walk out the dining room and up the creaking steps. As soon as you see a bed you make a b-line for it, closing the door behind you, kicking your boots off and flopping down. You don’t get a chance to close your eyes before there’s a knock at the door. You look over huffing and sitting up in bed.

“Yeah?” You call, a few seconds later Soap opens the door. He steps in closing the door behind him. 

“You okay?” He asks coming over to the bed. You move your legs so he can sit down. He hums his hand coming up to your face. You’re already leaning in to kiss him, it’s automatic at this point. His kiss is nice, familiar. So deep it leaves you breathless. 

“I wanna try something.” He says breaking from the kiss. “Do you trust me?”

You nod not sure what to say or what he’s planning. You suddenly don’t want to sleep, your heart hammering in your chest. He gets up heading back to the door.

“I’ll be right back.” He says smiling. You do trust him, you remember last night how different it felt, how good it feels. You want to believe it's more than just a fling, more than just a transaction. Sex has always felt like that to you, something you have to give to get something in return. It didn’t feel like that with Johnny. 

At least not yet. You pull your shirt off over your head flinging it to the side, the thought of having sex again makes the exhaustion fall away. You shuffle your pants off too, kicking them out of the end of the bed. 

There’s another knock at the door, you frown not expecting it but call Johnny in anyway. Only it’s not Johnny who enters the room, it's Ghost. You immediately reach down pulling the blanket over your exposed top. 

“Ghost!” You shout, turning away feeling heat rush to your cheeks. You feel embarrassed, stupid. You should never have trusted Johnny. You threw your shirt in the middle of the room. 

“Is this what you’ve been up to Johnny?” Ghost asks, you hear the door close. Johnny comes back over to the bed, his hand lands on your back.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you would be, you know. So eager.” You turn to look at him. 

“Could have fucking warned me.” You spit at him. He smiles, leaning forward and kissing you. It relaxes you, you forget Ghost is in the room. When he’s finished his hand comes up to cup your chin. “You look cute when you get flustered.”  

Him saying that just makes you blush more. You look over at Ghost stood by the door, Johnny’s hand lands on yours gripping the blanket. It’s reassuring, it’s what you need. 

“I can ask him to leave.” Johnny says. You sigh looking back at him, you do trust him. 

“I guess you really weren't joking when you said you were close.” You sigh. He smiles getting up off the bed and going over to Ghost. He wraps his arm around his waist, his other hand pushing up under his shirt. 

“I know you’ve been looking, you all have.” Johnny says. Ghost’s eyes look dark, the mask makes him look like such an intimidating person too. He’s big, broad shoulders, definitely the tallest out of all of them. It doesn’t help making him feel any less intimidating. You watch as Johnny presses up against him, his face just reaches his neck, he presses his face into it.

Suddenly the embarrassment fades and you swing your legs out the side of the bed. You flick your eyes between Ghost and Johnny. 

“Let me tell you, she’s as good as you think she is.” Johnny is whispering, or at least trying to. You feel yourself blushing again as Johnny turns his body, his hand slips out from Ghost’s shirt to the front of his pants. Ghost turns to look at Johnny and you let the blanket drop from your chest. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, MacTavish.” Ghost says, his voice low, rumbling in the room. 

“Maybe, but I know you want to play it too.” Johnny says reaching up to grip the bottom of Ghost’s mask pulling it up to reveal his lips. He steps up on his toes to kiss him. It does something to you, the sight of them both attacking each other's lips. Johnny slips his hand down into Ghost’s pants, you watch as he turns to face Johnny better, his hands running up to grip his arms.

You wet your lips, you press your thighs together feeling a throb travel through you. Your mouth fills with saliva as you watch Johnny fiddle with the front of Ghost's pants, unclipping his belt and reaching in to pull out his cock. He's bigger than Johnny, you can tell that already. You watch as Ghost breaks from the kiss pulling his gloves off and flinging them to the side before gripping Johnny’s face pulling him back into a kiss. 

Your hand wanders down your body, finding your already soaked pussy and coating your fingers in slick. You hear Johnny moan his hand pumping Ghost’s cock in his fist. You bite the inside of your cheek as you move your hand to rub your clit. 

You watch as Ghost breaks from the kiss, his hands dropping down Johnny’s arms. He turns to look at you, you freeze. Johnny pulls his hand away walking over to you pulling his shirt over his head. When he reaches you he hums, smiling before pulling the blanket off you to reveal your hand rubbing yourself. 

He reaches down, picking up your hand bringing it to his mouth. He presses his lips to your soaked fingers, taking them in his mouth and licking them clean. 

“Johnny.” You breathe, he chuckles, pulling your hand out and turning to Ghost. 

“C’mon Simon, let's show her how great you are.” You look past Johnny to hear Ghost coming towards you. Simon, that's his name, he comes over to you, his mask resting on his nose. He leans down and kisses you. 

His kiss is rougher than Johnny, his lips not as soft, he presses his tongue into your mouth and you crane your neck up so he doesn’t have to lean down as much. Johnny’s hands have made their way over to your breasts. His fingers brush over your nipples, cupping them as his face presses into your neck. 

“Christ, didn’t tell me she had pretty lips.” Simon says his thumb coming up to brush your cheek. 

“Didn’t tell you a lot of things.” Johnny says smiling. 

“Simon.” You say looking up at him. He has brown eyes, dark eyes, but they don’t look as scary now. You’re seeing them in a different light, it’s like he’s a different person. 

“I had my fun last night, it’s your turn now LT.” Johnny reaches over, pulling your chin to look at him. “Isn’t that right love, you're going to show Simon how good you are.” You nod looking up at him, he leans over and kisses you. 

You let them move you, their hands running over the different parts of your body. You end up laid flat on your back with a naked Johnny kneeling down by your head. You look up to the end of the bed seeing Simon getting into position between your legs. He kicked his boots off to take his trousers off but left the shirt and mask. 

Maybe he’s not ready for you to see his face, maybe he doesn’t trust you yet. He’s about to fuck you though, his thick cock laid on your stomach while he hooks his arms under your knees. You look over at Johnny stroking himself right by your face. Before he even needs to ask you, you open your mouth. 

He winks at you before pressing the tip of his cock to your lips. You let him press into your mouth, you smile as you watch his head tip back. You can’t move your head to look at Simon but you can feel him, using one of his hands pushing fingers in before replacing them with his cock. 

He’s thicker than Johnny too causing you to moan round Johnny, it just makes him push into you harder hitting the back of your throat and making your eyes water. 

“Holy shit, perfect sweetheart.” Johnny says his hand, coming to brush through your hair. 

“You’re making her look so pretty over there Johnny.” You hear Simon say as he thrusts into you. 

“Yeah, you should hear her when she moans. Got a pretty little mouth on her too.” Johnny says as he pulls his cock out your mouth. “Go on love, show him how pretty you sound.” 

You can’t help it moaning as Simon drives into you harder, pinning your legs out the way with his massive hands. 

“Simon.” You call looking over at him, his mouth is tipped open, his eyes almost glowing in the dim light of the room. You turn your head to look back over at Johnny who smiles down at you and winks. You turn your head opening your mouth again. 

“Christ love, I can’t tell what's better, your mouth or that pretty pussy of yours.” Johnny says as his hand reaches down to play with one of your breasts. 

“You don’t have to pick Johnny.” You hear Simon pant. You smile up at Johnny, your eyes being blurred by the tears streaming down your face. One of Simon’s hands drops your leg so his thumb can rub your clit. You end up moaning around Johnny again which makes him twitch in your mouth. 

Johnny brushes your tears away with his free hand. You close your eyes letting yourself get lost in the pleasure of Simon pumping into you like it’s the first cunt he’s had in years and Johnny hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. 

You moan again, you’re getting close, the stretch of Simon’s cock feels too good, he’s moaning now too, his moans are just as pretty as Johnny’s. You open your eyes again, Johnny’s fingers pinch your nipple playing with your breast making vibrations pulse down to your pussy. 

“Don’t stop Johnny. She’s clenching around me so tight.” Simon says as his thumb pressing down on your clit causing you to squirm under him. You close your eyes again, your body tensing as you cum. Johnny cums too, you barely react trying not to bite down on his cock. All you feel is his hot seed hitting the back of your throat. 

“Fuck love, fuck me.” Johnny pants pulling out of your mouth letting you breathe. Simon pulls out of you when he cums thick ropes squirting over your chest. You look over at him, his eyes closed, hand wrapped round his cock. 

“Look at you.” Johnny coos, his fingers brushing over your chest scooping up some of the cum leaking down to your stomach. He presses the fingers into his mouth, Simon hums and you feel him step off the bed. 

He walks over to your head and Johnny steps back. Simon looks down at you as you prop yourself up on your elbows. He bends down to kiss you. A second later he breaks away pressing his nose against yours. 

“Riley.” He whispers. You open your eyes as he stands back up pulling his mask down. You watch him reach down to pick his clothes up and Johnny bends down by your head. 

Simon Riley. You smile at Johnny. 

“Not as scary as he seems right?” Johnny says stroking your face. 

“I was never scared of him.” You smile. 

“Good.” Johnny says. 

next

Banners by plum98

[acidsoju]

LOST IN NEVERLAND

read part one here genre: fantasy au, royalty au, multidimentional au, romance, angst, fiction, action, smut, slow burn. pairing: prince! soobin x reader warnings: this is a second part!!, not proofread yet, cursing, sex scenes, mentions of weird vomit, love triangle, a little bit of second male lead syndrom from my part. word count: 22.7k summary: after being dropped into the han river, you wake up in another dimension― soobin's dimension, in which he the crown prince of a kingdom you have yet to get to know.

IMAGINE BEOMGYU’S SURPRISE WHEN THE FIRST THING HE FELT GOING THROUGHT THE PORTAL WAS YOU; you, floating unconsciously from the bottom of the lake, being swiftly pulled by a few water nymphs that the mage had convinced to help him with his little not-too-big-of-a-deal task about getting the crown prince of the Kingdom’s ass back home. You who were completely pale, a painful expression on your face even though you were knocked out as you emerged out of the water and reached the edges of the lake just where Beomgyu was waiting, arms crossing over his chest as he eyes you with little interest.

He was about to order you being discarded but instead scoffed and rolled his eyes at the accusatory stares of the nymphs who seemed to have taken a like to your unconscious-self, protecting your figure with their arms.

“Ha! Fine, whatever. Guards, warm her up and watch over her” he ordered; his command being obliged immediately.

Imagine Beomgyu’s surprise when the second thing he felt going through the portal was the most annoying pain in his ass, even overthrowing the prince himself from the throne. He watched with bored eyes as the forbidden mage flew out of the water with a harsh and dramatic splash and behind him, being dragged by a pair of tentacles, was the prince fighting to not lose consciousness too.

Kai snarled as he sensed the magic barrier capsulating over him; it wasn’t enough to stop him but it was about enough to stop the prince from crossing it. The forbidden mage knew immediately he was surrounded and outnumbered by the palace’s allies, so if he wanted to get out of there alive or at all, he had to drop the prince.

And that’s exactly what he did, with a little too much force into it, as the tentacle on his legs effortlessly threw him back to the lake; Soobin’s body crashing into the water with another dramatic splash before the water nymphs were hurrying to his rescue. Cold blue eyes met with a pair of burning brown eyes, staring defiantly back. Not over is what Kai’s lips mumbles to Beomgyu who just arches an eyebrow in his direction, and then the forbidden mage is gone after a flash of violet lightning.

“Assist the crown prince immediately” orders the mage looking at his friend being dragged to the edge of the lake by the nymphs, guards and maids immediately rushing in to help the drenched prince, whose consciousness seemed to slip through his fingers for a second before coming back to his senses. His lips were barely moving inches as he was stripped out of his clothes and changed into a dry attire yet Beomgyu caught on his words perfectly fine.

“Her… where is she?”

Then just in time, a loud gasp was heard. Your eyes flew open and closed immediately a second after, the bright light of the day making your head hurt like living hell; your mouth opened as well as you took in rush breaths in and out, in and out, in and out, scared air was going to abandoned your body once again. Then your rushed breath got stuck in your throat as you felt something disgusting down in your guts and before you could even think, you were rolling over your own body on the floor and throwing up; the loud gasps of horror never reaching your ears as tears picked in your eyes and a sharp whistle rung in your head.

Wasn’t that just a lovely first impression?

An exhausted sigh escapes the mage’s lips as he takes lazy steps in your direction, lips curling down in disgust at the sight; even if he was from a world where magic existed and coexisted perfectly fine with non-magical humans, he was sure black vomit wasn’t an ideal sign.

You blinked a few times, the warm tears rolling down your cheeks, finally adjusting to the bright light around you, swollen lips darting open as you stared down at your vomit― colored black vomit on the ground, merely inches from your face as you pushed against the floor with your hands enough for not be face-falling into it. Then you looked up, meeting eyes with a tall man whose eyes lingered on you without any kind of interest.

Beomgyu knew you were that little rude brat he’d had the pleasure to have a conversation with days ago just by the arrogant look flashing in your eyes as you stared back at him, directly in the eyes, even in your poor state; wet hair sticking to your back and forehead, lips with a faint tint of black after throwing up, eyes puffed and red from the tears, some dirt on you after being dragged out of the lake by the guards; all of that and yet you stared directly into his eyes.

Your eyebrows knitted as the man stood frozen in front of your eyes; judgy eyes staring at you― then your eyes trailed around taking in the figure of every person staring back at you, eyes wide open and shocked expressions on their faces making you feel like some kind of animal trapped in a zoo, and then you saw him― his eyes were already on you, trying to reach you even through a stare.

Completely ignoring the strange attires everyone wore or the pretty, almost transparent girls waving at you from the lake, you tried to get up, legs shaking uncontrollably at your own weight turning the steps you tried to take into clumsy deer-like stumbles; fuck was all you mumbled under your breath, throat sore and dry, before your legs were giving up after just a second; grunting as you fell to the ground on your butt, your eyes flicked up when you heard the clear sound of steps stopping in front of you.

“Such a nuisance” was what Beomgyu spat in your face before a faux smile was draw on his face and his hand hovered before your eyes, your mind going immediately blank as you fell unconscious to the floor. Beomgyu hmphed, satisfied as he nodded his head proud of himself. “Much better.”

Soobin huffed in annoyance as he watched the whole scene― if he could, he would’ve already been by your side, carrying you instead of letting yourself get even dirtier on the floor, but he couldn’t; crown prince and all of that, he was surrounded by the teary servants of the castle, words of relief, even some people falling on their knees in front of the prince. With a polite smile on his face, Soobin’s eyes flicked to the head maid in front of him, the one who had watched over him all of his life, who was trying to wipe away her tears and asked:

“May I ask for a small favor?” Soobin watched as the old lady hurried in wipe her tears with her handkerchief, nodding once to the prince as a sign of listening. “The miss over there… she is a guest of mine, a very important person to me who has proved her loyalty to the crown as she succeeded in protecting me when I was in despair, therefore I expect nothing but the best of the cares for her.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“Ready to go back home, Your Highness?” inquired Beomgyu walking closer to his friend, head following the figure of the maid rushing and walking pass him, in your direction, being followed by a few more maids. Soobin arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you looking at me like that? Aren’t you super grateful at me for rescuing you? What about a hug to celebrate a moving reunion?”

“You could have helped her” accused the prince; Beomgyu rolled his eyes and pushed the frames over the bridge of his nose up to his eyes.

“I am not a nanny.” “We will see about that.”

-

Well, fucking hell did your body hurt, was the first thing you thought as you fell out of your slumber, hands moving against the soft covers underneath you, soft groans of pain coming out of you as to tried to stretch your body. Taking a whole long minute to recall everything on your mind― coming out of water and throwing up basically petrol, that must have been a dream, right? Last thing you remember was a tall man with long hair falling over his shoulders and the open palm of his hand towering over your eyes, and then nothing.

First thing you saw as you opened your eyes was the very tall ceiling, very beautiful Renaissance’s paintings on it; a few seconds went by as you understood that you, in fact, didn’t have any Renaissance-like ceiling in your room, not a bed as big as the one you were laying on and, hell, the living room of your place didn’t even have a ceiling anymore.

Whines in pain came out of your lips as you turned your body on the bed, stomach against mattress and dragged yourself up to sit down on your knees; eyes scanning the unfamiliar room you were in― just where the fuck where you?

You pushed yourself to crawl out of the big-ass king size bed, bare feet touching the cold floor as you walked over to the window almost as tall as the whole ceiling, opening the soft white silk curtain that fell from the very top, your eyes scanning beyond the balcony outside the window to the immense garden displaying on sight.

“I see you are awake at last” flinching at the sudden voice booming in the bedroom, you turned around quickly, your eyes immediately spotting the standing figure of a man wearing a maroon cloak in the middle of the room; bored brown eyes staring into yours from behind his round-shaped glasses, long brown hair pulled away from his face into a ponytail. You recognized him immediately― the one you saw before passing out. “Took you three days, I guess you are a lot weaker than I first thought.”

Frowning, you squeezed your eyes in his direction― oh, how familiar did the tone of his voice sound to you. It didn’t take you too long to realize, once again, that the man in the room was the same man who had magically appeared that one day on the arcade. Beomgyu huffed under your stare and let himself fall over one of the couches displayed around in the bedroom. The mage on the couch seemed to read your mind as his lips stretched into a sly smile as you put the pieces together about his identity.

“Not so smart either, uh?” you rolled your eyes and tried to speak, aiming to take a step to the front but the words never came out of your mouth, instead a pathetic gasp escaped from you as you had to press your back against the window to avoid falling to the floor once your legs started trembling weakly. “You certainly are not compatible with magic, Bambi.”

Huffing as you forced yourself to stand up properly, trying to ignore the wince of pain incrementing on your extensions, you look up from your feet to meet his gaze again. “Don’t call me that” yet to your despair, your legs shook with a little more force as seconds went by.

To Beomgyu it only took him a snap of his fingers to have a chair being dragged in your direction and swiftly pushing you over it as it moved back into his direction, only coming to a stop when the chair was in front of him. The cocky smile on his face only grew wider as he analyzed the bewildered look on your face while you shoved some strands of hair out of your face― the mage decided to have some fun as he snapped his fingers twice, caughting your attention; the tea table from the other side of the room moved immediately by his command and was dragged by his magic stopping in between your chair and the couch. The set of tea over the table started doing its job only that, of course, there was no one actually serving the tea.

Your mouth fell open as you watched the sight in front of you; the levitating cups of tea being filled by the big kettle pouring down the steaming drink. You didn’t even catch the quiet laugh coming from the mage’s mouth at your sincere amused reaction, Beomgyu only leaning back on the couch as the teacup moved his way.

“H-how…” you mumbled, picking up the teacup that patiently waited in the air for you to grab. Your eyes moved back to the mage who sipped his tea before answering:

“Magic.”

“Don’t fuck with me right now” you replied looking around as if you were to find any kind of invisible string pulling the furniture around; Beomgyu’s eyes widened at your choice of words and almost spilled the tea on his mouth, choking on it instead.

“Don’t what now?”

“This is some kind of joke, right?” you asked turning back to look at Beomgyu with a lot of confusion on your face. “Look, I don’t know how did you pull that little trick earlier but-

“Trick?” Beomgyu interrupted you, a single eyebrow raising as his gaze hardened; within a second, the boy opened both of his palms looking upwards, flames coming out of them as your mouth fell open again. “You dare to say my abilities are false?”

“… Okay, okay! Fine!” you exclaimed, raising up your palms in the air for him to cease whatever the hell was going on; snarling, Beomgyu put down the fire of his hands. “Geez, it’s just so weird.”

“Watch your tone, little girl, if I weren’t so merciful right now, you’d already be ashes” he stated before grabbing again the cup of tip to sip from it. “And you should refrain from using poor vocabulary while you are around.”

“Around?” you questioned, eyebrows knitting in your face as you leaned closer to the table. “Where exactly is around?” your question seemed to take Beomgyu a little off guard.

“You must actually be quite dense- this is the Fifth Kingdom of the Choi Dynasty, of course.”

“… Of course, yeah, haha!” you smiled yet Beomgyu saw the panicked flowing in your eyes and the corners of your lips trembling as you tried to maintain the façade. “And… my place, how far is it?”

“Like… five thousand dimensions away?” “Riiight…” Beomgyu watched over his cup of tea at you, studying every expression; from the way you looked around yet seemed lost in your own thoughts, how your eyebrows moved in concern in unison with whatever you were thinking, to the way your lips curled down before sighing and flicking your eyes back at him. “What about Soobin? Is he okay? Where is he?”

“It’s ‘Your Highness’ for you, little girl” Beomgyu replied in a scoff, parting his lips away from his cup of tea almost empty already. “And to answer your question; yes, he is okay. He was recovered almost immediately, as expected of a royal

“Is he… really-“ “Crown prince?” “Yeah.” “Of course, he was born with the title.” “I see.”

Taking a little sip from the teacup to avoid any more words coming out of your mouth, your mind revolted in thoughts about him and the supposed world you were. You were glad he was okay after everything that had happened to the both of you, but words weren’t enoug; you needed to see him actually doing fine, but were you to ask the quite intimidating mage to let you pay a friendly visit to the prince? Of course not; just from taking a little glimpse at him you already knew that he knew what you wanted to ask.

“He is a very busy person.” “Of course.”

You downed the rest of the tea at once, tilting your head backwards for it and licked your lips once the cup was empty; as you placed it down over the table your eyes met again with the mage’s, whose eyes always seemed to be judging you.

“You need to learn some manners while you are here” he stated, nodding to himself and fixing the pair of glasses up on his face.

“How long I’m supposed to stay here?” you asked, looking straight into his eyes; the mage gulped down, making the Adam’s apple on his neck move at the action. “When can I go back? How can I go back?”

“Well, hahah, it’s a little complicated” he laughed nervously which put you a little on edge; leaning even closer to the table as you knitted your eyebrows, he only avoided your intense eyes.

“What exactly is complicated?” you insisted, hands gripping on the seat edges to avoid falling of it. Beomgyu shifted uncomfortably on his seat.

“What isn’t complicated in life, little girl?” “Don’t try to avoid it, explain.”

Beomgyu huffed his air abruptly at your insistence, a little annoyed; his own eyebrows frowning as he decided to meet your eyes before speaking. “It takes a lot of energy to travel through dimensions and we don’t need only mine to open the portal but yours as well if you want to even think about surviving the little trip back home- not only that but I am running a little bit out of my usual energy thanks to someone falling into the portal so suddenly.”

“Not my fault, I was fucking dropped” you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest with a pronounced frown on your face; Beomgyu twitching at your language. “And weren’t you supposed to be the Blessed One or something like that, greatest magician of the Kingdom?”

“I am” he cleared. “But even if I were to regain my normal state of energy after a few days of rest, we have a problem with you.”

“What? Why am I the problem?”

“For starters, you can’t even walk properly.” “Of course I can w-“ With a snap of his fingers, the chair underneath you completely vanished into thin air and even if you were fast enough to stand, your legs still failed you and you fell down on your knees. “Fuck.”

“See, Bambi?” remarked the mage twirling in index finger in the air to have you levitating on the air and sitting you back on the chair that magically appeared back on its previous place behind you. “Do not worry, this little thing with your legs is just a side effect of the impact of magic on a body that hasn’t ever come in touch with it, it shall be gone soon. However, you still need to make your soul more resistant to magic.”

“And how I’m supposed to do that?”

“Training, of course” Beomgyu’s lips spread into a big grin. “Lucky for you, you have been assigned to the best one all over the Kingdom, me” your eyebrows jumped in surprise at his words “We shall discuss this matter into detail later over lunch… for now, how about doing something about this?” his brown eyes trailed up and down at you, again, judging you.

“What is wrong with…” you mumbled looking down at yourself; well, you kinda got what he meant as you looked the extremely old-fashion white tunic falling down to your ankles. You cleared your throat and looked away feeling the mocking stare of the mage in front of you.

“I shall call the maids to help you get ready for lunch” he spoke as he got up; with a quick snap of his fingers the table went back to its original spot. “Once you are done I will come and pick you up to take you to the dining room” you watched how the man walked over to the entrance of the bedroom, stopping before they closed to remind you that you ‘should wait for me here until I come, understood?’.

You didn’t have enough time to panic after the news he so kindly had shared with you when the doors opened just a few seconds after Beomgyu left; a trio of women coming in with cordial smiles on their faces and stopping in front of you, lowering their heads before looking at you again.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, miss y/n” said one of the women, the one looking older and who seemed to lead the other two ones. “We have received orders from the crown prince himself to watch properly over you so if we may help you, I was informed that you are to have lunch with Sir Beomgyu?” you only nodded, feeling a little calmer at the soft tone the maid used to speak. “Wonderful miss, excuse us while we assist you to the bathroom then.”

You mumbled a soft thank you to them as the younger pair approached you and help you support yourself when you got up, walking beside you to the bathroom with the third woman walking before you. The bathroom was equally beautiful as the bedroom and big enough to throw a party inside; in its center was a big bathtub that was soon filled with warm, steaming water by the maid.

“I can do this myself” you said tugging down at the tunic covering your body when the maids tried to help you get undressed; they simply nodded and watched over you if you were to fall. Strangely enough you didn’t feel uncomfortable as they helped you get into the tub, your exposed body soon sinking in the water that relaxed your muscles instantly. For sure, you felt way more relaxed around the three women than the mage; maybe it was the fact that their hands weren’t on fire, you thought.

The pair sat down on a wooden tool on each side of the tub, slowly scrubbing down some soap to help you clean yourself while the third one stood behind you, scrunching down on your scalp, displaying the top tier massaging skills you had ever received in your life. You found yourself leaning your head back, tirelessly, as your eyes closed on their own.

The nice scent of flowers reached your smelling senses once the maids on your sides started rubbing on you some lotion, soothing up your skin. After your hair was washed up, the maid behind you curled up your hair in a towel to absorb the excess of water on it and the maids quickly covered you in a bathtub when you got up.

“That was nice, thank you” you mumbled, suddenly feeling a little kid who was being taken care of. The maids smiled as they walked you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom again, helping you take a seat on the same couch Beomgyu had been before. You watched how they rushed around picking stuff from a big closet on the corner of the bedroom, beautiful silk coming in display in front of your eyes. “These are… my clothes?”

“Personally picked by the crown prince, miss” nodded the maid. You were handed some clean underwear and you couldn’t avoid thinking if Soobin had picked it too, feeling a little embarrassed all of a sudden. The maids helped you put on the dress; Yeonjun would go insane if he saw this, you thought as you run the palm of your hand against the soft silk hugging your body till your waist, then falling freely to your ankles, almost touching the floor.

“Miss, would you let us do your hair?” asked one of the young maids, a little excitement in her voice as she waited for your approval, her eyes shining when you nodded, she rushed in your direction to help you sit down in front of a vanity, a big mirror setting in front of you. You observed for a little while how the maid started untangling your hair and braiding it up with the most care, soft eyes focused on your strands; then your vision was blocked by the other maid who started applying some make up on your face.

“You are very pretty, miss” she mumbled as she was too focused on her task, putting on some blush on your cheeks. “Barely need anything.”

“Done, miss” they informed as the three of them put down their stuff on the vanity and took a step back to let you take a look at yourself in the mirror; feeling a little awkward at first, you leaned in closer to observe the delicate braids falling on each side of your face, very Romeo and Juliet’s style, as the rest of your long hair falling lose on your back. “Is it to your liking?”

You nodded, soft smile displaying on your face as you turned around on the chair to look at the three of them, they looking proud looking at you. “Thank you very much for your help.”

They walked out of the room after lowering their heads once more, leaving you alone with your reflection and your thoughts.

Well, what were you supposed to do now?

Beomgyu had said something about having lunch but just when was he supposed to be back? Hesitantly, you decided to stand up, hands clenching on the air as you tried your best to stop the uncomfortably tremble in your legs, giving short and paused steps to the doors. You rested the palm of your hands against them, pushing forward to open them and taking a peek around, long halls displaying on each side and no sight of Beomgyu around.

Little by little, step by step you noticed the tremble starting to fade away, even though the pain seemed to increase; your knees shook a little but at least you could move around, painfully slow and with a type of support, which you found in the walls around you. Too excited at the thought of walking again, you started moving further and further down the hall, almost glued to the wall as you leaned the side of your body against it. Not so long after you learnt that this way took a little too much of effort when you started feeling extremely tired; fortunately, you spotted a door in the middle of the hall to what it seemed the outside so you rushed, how much you could, to it and stepped out, clear air filling your lungs immediately.

As you leaned over a balustrade, letting most of your weight fall on it, you looked before you to what it seemed to be a training ground filled with dozens of men and women in battle uniforms and wielding their weapons, each of a kind displaying for you to observe; fucking hell, you thought as you observed two of them fighting their blood, sweat and tears in the middle of the ground, it looks like a movie.

You stood there for a while, in part taking a little rest and in part too caught up in the scene unfolding in front of your eyes, something you have never had the chance to witness in your normal day life; it didn’t take too much for the match to end, one of the two people overpowering the other and winning the match. The defeated part walked away and in the ring in the middle walked in a tall figure, his persona shining brighter than the rest, making your breath hitch as you recognized him as soon as he appeared in your vision.

Soobin stood in front of the previous winner, sharp eyes analyzing his opponent as his hand moved to the belt hanging around his hips and draw a long and threatening sword. Your heart beat loudly when you saw how the other person launched at him to attack first, nerve-wrecking scythe-looking weapon slashing in his direction and it had been him if Soobin hadn’t moved to avoid it; you gawked as you observed him moving around the ring, fast and comfortable, sword crashing against the scythe with force, clanking sounds booming around.

Soobin huffed as he received a punch on his ribs but managed to clasp his opponent arm in his free hand, snaking one of his long legs in between theirs, pushing them down to the ground on a strong motion, kicking their weapon off of their hold and pointing his sharp sword at their neck, the match coming to an end with a new winner.

“Flies will get in your mouth, Bambi.”

You flinched at the sudden voice coming from behind you. Beomgyu took a step to your side and rested himself over the balustrade like you were doing, eyebrows raised accusatory at you. “I thought I told you to wait for me so how did you end up all the way here, mhm?”

A soft, nervous laugh came from you as you squirmed under his intense brown stare, you could almost see the fire coming out of them; you smiled apologetically to the mage, looking away from the prince to the man on your side. “… Sorry, it just happened” you mumbled, earning a scoff from him.

As you looked over at Beomgyu, you didn’t realize Soobin’s dark eyes spotting you immediately after he stepped out of the ring, his training session finished as he wiped his sweat with a handy towel. He didn’t think twice before dropping the towel and jogged in your direction, his heart doing martial jumps in excitement and anxiousness; Beomgyu noticed his friend moving your way, so when the mage pointed out at something and you looked that way your guts twirled. Soobin’s eyes shone brightly as they were fixed on you, big smile spreading on his face as he got closer.

Soobin practically skipped the little steps up to where you where, jumping over them with his legs and stopping in front of you, head tilting down to look properly at you. He didn’t give you a minute to speak before you were tugged by him, his arms closing around your frame and hugging you tightly, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as he rested his chin on top of your head, eyes shutting close as he stood there, just embracing you.

“I am so glad you are safe” he spoke softly, finally letting go of the worry that consumed over him the days you were asleep. You felt your heart beating fast and loud on your chest, your hands shyly caressing his torso and rounding his waist to embrace him back, your eyes closing just as his, enjoying the touch and warmth of someone you knew, completely oblivious to the centenar pair of eyes on the both of you.

The little bubble the prince and you were went pop when Beomgyu started clearing his throat excessively with the intention of catching your attention, reminding you both he was still there as well as the rest of the knights watching curiously at their prince embracing a woman. You huffed and rolled your eyes when the mage started practically coughing dramatically trying to take a step back and away from the prince yet you couldn’t seem to move further as his arms around you only pressed you closer, back into his embrace.

Lifting you head from his chest to look up, you only found the tenderness flowing out of his eyes while looking at you in his arms, soft smile on his pretty naturally pouted lips.

“Your Highness” spoke Beomgyu walking into your bubble and hugging Soobin’s shoulders while looking at him with a forced, big smile on his face. “Do I need to remind you there is a whole castle watching right now?”

Irritation appears on Soobin’s features as the hold on you loosened a little, hands caressing your waist before pulling away reluctantly, face turning to a side to look at his friend. “I do not need to mind the prying eyes, mage, this is my castle” he said, arching a dark eyebrow at his friend who only rolled his eyes and pulled his arm away from the prince.

“It’s your parent’s actually, but of course” Beomgyu’s eyes flicked back to you, judging as your soft smile wiped away under his gaze. “And you, next time be sure to do as I say and wait. What could it have happened if you were just fell somewhere around in the castle?”

“Well, someone would have found me eventually” you mumbled, not really liking the whole scolding thing the mage did, your lips curling down in a grimace that had Beomgyu scowling back at you and Soobin’s smile widening. “See? You did find me right now, yoo-hoo!” the obvious irony in your voice made the men in front of you accentuate their previous reactions; Beomgyu’s eyes widening at your rudeness, trailing down at your legs while Soobin’s dimple makes its appearance in his cheek.

“Well, don’t you look better now, Bambi?” questioned the mage as you were standing perfectly fine now, only that he didn’t see your wobbling legs underneath the long silk of the dress.

“You look really beautiful, y/n” said Soobin, again reaching out his hand to grab yours but being prevented by Beomgyu who caught his hand in the air and pulled it back to its place, earning a scowl from the prince. “You are so annoying.”

“And you are talking informally again” refuted the mage; both of them rolling their eyes at each other made you scoff a soft laugh, which quickly switched to a wince as your legs felt weaker by the second you spent stand up, forcing yourself to lean over the balustrade again. Beomgyu’s eyebrows furrowed at you understanding immediately what was happening, while Soobin face twisted in worry, his hands flying to your waist as he towered closer to you.

“Are you okay? What is wrong?” he asked, whether to you or Beomgyu you don’t know.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine” you said, turning around while leaning your back against the balustrade, smiling reassuringly at the prince whose worried eyes scanned you over and over.

“She’s having a little aftereffect to magic” explained his friend as he peeked his heat to look at you over the prince’s shoulder. “Her body isn’t used to it so it reacts this way, reminds me of that Bambi fairy tale you used to like reading to when we were little.”

Soobin hummed as he listened to the explanation, his eyes never leaving you and his hold on your waist only tighten to try and help you keep on your feet, thumbs drawing circles in a way to try to give you some kind of comfort, only making you get goosebumps all over your body.

“And you are supposed to be training her?” questioned Soobin, arching an eyebrow even though he didn’t turn to look at his face. You, otherwise, caught the way the mage’s lips stretched in to a cocky smile behind the prince.

“Who else would?” he said, clearly proud. “It was a direct order from the Queen.”

“Do you need me to carry you?” asked you Soobin, ignoring Beomgyu’s nonsense, taking a step closer to you, one of his hands circling the back of your waist while the other trailed up to cup your face, thump brushing over your hot and red cheek.

“Don’t you dare” you spoke softly under your breath, the single thought of him carrying you bride style down the halls of his castle while you were dressed playing princess enough to make you want to gag and throw up everywhere out of embarrassment. Soobin laughed softly as if he were able to see what you were imagining.

“Fine, but at least let me walk you to where you have to go” he said, his hands not moving an inch from their places on you. You simply nodded, moving up your hands to rest them on his forearms, the muscles under your touch tensing up.

Fortunately for you, the dining room wasn’t that much far away, still Soobin walked on your side, making you grab onto his arm as he escorted you and help you stable yourself at the same time; Beomgyu walked on the other side of you, not really letting you touch him but still matching your pace as you were forced to take careful steps. The big doors of the dining room opened as soon as the three of you reached them, servants lowering their heads as you walked over the room.

“Here, have a seat” said Soobin walking you to one of the big seats and pulling the chair out for you to take it; you mumbled a soft thank you as you felt the stares of the people in the room on you as you sat down. Soobin took the seat on the head of the table, next to you; Beomgyu taking the one in front of you.

“So, let’s discuss matt-

“You look really beautiful, you know?” said the prince, cutting off mid-sentence at the mage whose facial expression went blank; you smiled, trying to appease the tingling in your stomach and the burning in your face which Soobin didn’t ignore, of course, glad to see the soft shade of pink in your ears. “But do you find the clothes comfortable? If not, we ought to go call the seamstress.”

“Don’t have to go that far” you said, shaking your head at the thought of having someone else that Yeonjun taking your measurements. “Clothes are fine, I just wish I could walk normally already.”

“About that” spoke Beomgyu, catching the attention of the both of you again, a slight irritated look on his face. “Would you care to hear about your own training plan?”

Oh, you didn’t like the plan at all. Not only you’d have to spent every day with Mister fire-out-of-my-hands who seemed to have a little bit of a short temper, but you would also have to endure him casting spells on you, like a little laboratory rat is what you thought. And not only did you need training in magic, but also needed to learn some proper manners and built your physical strength. “Why do I need to learn your manners?”

“If you are going to be roaming around here, we don’t need you causing any kind of trouble” before you could even protest, Beomgyu cut you off. “It’s not like I can present a young lady swearing her heart off in the middle of a grand ball.”

“Grand ball?” you question, eyebrows furrowing as you flick your eyes to Soobin. The prince’s lips stretched again into a smile, this time a little more nervous. “A ball as in dance, a party?”

“Not the kind of party your picturing, y/n” mumbled Soobin, having some flashbacks to the party he had been taken by you and your friend back in your dimension. “The King and the Queen, they have decided to host a ball to celebrate my safe return home and…”

“And?”

“And of course they way the one who I said protected me while I was lost there, having a good time

“I will add dancing lessons to our schedule” spoke Beomgyu nodding to himself as he pictured all the things he needed to get you ready to. Soobin’s eyes trailed back to his friend, shaking his head.

“I will teach those myself” stated the prince, earning an eyebrow arched from the mage; turning to look at you again, Soobin’s eyebrows knitted as he mumbled softly to you. “If that is okay with you, of course.”

“Sure” you answer trying to bite back the feeling in your chest, picking up some more food from your plate, deciding to ignore the stare of the mage in front of you probably to your poor mannerisms during supper. “When is this party then?”

“Two weeks from now on.”

From then on, your living nightmare started; you would be woken up extremely early everyday by the maids who soon understood you were a late bird and started dragging you out of the comfort of the big bed you started to get used to; they would get you ready still half-asleep for the mage to pick you up from your bedroom. Sun still rising, the two of you would share breakfast outdoors; Beomgyu speaking too much for so early hours as you could barely manage to pick up your cup of tea, most of the things he said going in and out of your ears.

After breakfast, physical training hours began; Mr. Mage had you doing everything that you didn’t do during your high school years when you skipped p.e most of the time, but ten times worse while he simply sat down on a chair watching you pant desperately for air as your legs began giving up on you, soon giving up completely and making you fall on the ground, dust rising up from the impact.

“Oh? Out already? Okay, five-minute break, then do three series of abdominal work on the ground.”

By lunch time, you would be covered in sweat and dust; clothes dirty and sticking up to your body, legs aching, arms falling limp to your sides and face flushed from the exhaustion. Lucky for you, the maids who have seemed to be assigned for you took the most precious care of you, rushing in taking you into the bathtub, rubbing every dirty inch in your body, letting you and your sore muscles relax under the warm water, rested enough to have lunch with Soobin and Beomgyu in the dining hall.

The routine didn’t end there, oh no; after having some dessert, Beomgyu would drag you away from the prince, who stole your full attention during meals, and onto his personal studio slash laboratory slash ‘office’ how he’d like to call it where the two of you would start your magic training which, if you had to be totally honest, was even worse than the physical one. Maybe it was the fact that never in your life until these last days you had been in contact with magic of any sort, excluding the typical coin tricks and the rabbits out of the hat that used to thrill you so much when you were a kid; this magic, however, felt like waves electricity flowing from the inside of your body, burning everything on its way to come out.

“Te-Ten minutes… break” you pleaded gasping for air as you on your knees, looking up to look at the mage sitting on his comfortably chair with a book on his lap; his brown eyes looked up from the book to you thought the frames on his face and scanned you.

“Five minutes break.”

It was safe to say most of the hours of the day were taken by the mage; it was only after dinner that you and Beomgyu would part ways, him leaving you with the prince who was in charge of your dancing lessons. Frankly, you were glad; Soobin was the person who you trusted the most in this world and while being around him there was this feeling that nothing could go wrong.

“Did Beomgyu gave you a hard time again?” he asks as the two of you walk into the ballroom, following you to the center of it. You sigh a laugh and turn around to face him, his tall frame stopping just in front of you, pretty lips stretching into a bigger smile as you connected eyes.

“When does he not?” you replied smugly, making the prince giggle softly and pretending your heart didn’t skip a beat at the sound of his cute little laugh. You had to gulp the lump in your throat when he stepped a little closer to you, his big hands moving softly up and brushing your hands until it reached the sides of your waist; long fingers pressing without too much force on your clothe skin, pulling you closer to him, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“Should we start now?” he mumbled softly, one of his hands going back to cup yours in his before lifting it up until it reached his shoulders’ height; the other hand swiftly caressing your waist as it moved to the spot on your back. It wasn’t your first or second dancing lesson with Soobin and yet you still couldn’t get used to this; not only he looked in his prime, wearing the silk clothes that hugged his body perfectly, mostly white, soft shirts with long sleeves, but his whole demeanor had seemed to change once he was back to his world. He was no longer Soobin the lost crazy man I picked up on the streets but he was the crown prince of a kingdom.

Music filled the ballroom immediately as he said the words, most probably due to the castle working with magic thanks to your own personal teacher, Beomgyu, and as always Soobin started leading your steps, slow and carefully, soft smile on his lips as his eyes were glued to yours. You, on the other hand, were too focused on your own feet as always, frowning as you tried not to step in your partner’s shoes, as always, to notice the tenderness flowing from his eyes, as always.

It wasn’t until you heard Soobin clicking his tongue and the hand holding yours letting go to use it to push your chin up that you finally looked back at him. “Eyes up here, y/n.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Your Highness” you answered, the title sounding strange in your mouth even as a mockery; his hand went back to grab yours, squeezing it a little after your words. A soft gasp escaped from you when the prince swiftly twirled you around, hand on your back disappearing for a second as you spun and back when your chest met his; Soobin had bit down on his lip to suppress the laugh threatening to come from him as he watched the bewildered look on your face, cheeks flushed and your clumsy feet stumbling on each other.

“It’s cute that you think you can hurt me, y/n” he answered as he continued to move the both of you around the room following the melody’s rhythm. The loose strands of his hair softly brushed against your forehead as he leaned in closer to your face, breath tickling on your skin as his dark eyes stared intently into yours, the hand on your back tensing a little against your skin. “And do not call me that.”

“That’s what I’m being taught” you replied, frowning as you remembered the amount of times you had been scolded by Beomgyu after calling the crown prince by his name; Soobin’s nose wrinkled at that.

“Just call me by my name” he said, his eyes inevitably flicking down to your lips as they barely parted open, his mind rushing in memories of the party in your world when you had kissed him, the way your pretty lips felt against his taking away his breath completely. Oh, how he wanted to feel that again. Unconsciously, Soobin leaned in a little more until his forehead was resting against yours, his own lips hanging open as he waited for the word to come out of you.

“Now?” you asked, the words leaving in a mere whisper, feeling as if any loud sound would pop the bubble you were caught in right now; Soobin hummed in agreement, him no longer leading you around the room, just the two of you standing still in the middle of it. At the feeling of dryness in your mouth, you twirled around your tongue over your lips and felt your heart bump like crazy when the prince in front of you copied your move, the movement of his tongue over his pretty plump lips caughting your attention. “Soobin.”

He loved it, the way his name fell from your lips without any royal weight and how it was directed to him, Soobin, and not him, the crown prince of the Kingdom.

“Once more” he whispered, plead in his voice, as his hold in your waist tightened, his heavy breath fanning over your lips. “Please, say it once more.”

“Soobi- mh.”

The word got stuck in your mouth as a pair of plump lips softly pressed against yours; your eyes closing immediately, hands moving up to hold the prince’s face in them, one hand thoughtlessly sneaking to the back of his head, brushing his hair and holding him closer to you. Fuck, his lips were soft and warm, and they moved so good against yours.

A deep sigh came out of the prince while his hands pressed you closer to him, his arms sneaking on your back to hug you thigh, his head slightly tilting to a side to allow him deepened the kiss and when the he felt the soft licks of your tongue against his bottom lip, he felt like his own legs could give up any minute.

The sweet kiss quickly turned into a more passionate one with your tongue exploring into the prince’s mouth, soon finding his own tongue and brushing against it, drinking in every deep sigh or noise coming from him, or even some soft whines when you tugged at his hair after he started nibbling at your bottom lip, warm tongue brushing against it while sucking, making you pant against his mouth.

“So pretty” he mumbled, pulling apart a mere inch to take a look at your face, starring eyes looking up at his, lips swollen and parted open as you took deep breaths. Soobin leaned in closer to you again, and when your lips opened a little more when he was about to kiss you again, he avoided them and let his head fall to a side, his lips peppering your skin with kisses from your cheek to your jaw and going down to your neck, humming as your scent filled his senses. “So sweet, y/n.”

An inaudible ‘oh’ came out of you as you tilted your head back when Soobin started giving slow licks against the skin on your neck, quickly adding some brushing of his teeth that sent shivers down your spine, the sound of his mouth-open kisses against your skin reaching your ears and making your mind fuzzy.

It didn’t take you too much to realize or feel the way he pressed his hips against you, his hard member forming a tent in his pants, the breath fanning over your neck becoming heavier as he covered you in kisses. You particularly liked the way he’d be a little rougher, hips jolting and a deep groan coming down from his throat, when you pulled his hair in between your fingers; a lazy smirk trailing up in your lips as you heard the boy whine against your skin.

“Soobin” you mumbled, flicking your eyes open up to the ceiling, your fingers twirling his hair in them and softly pulling to try and get his attention. He hummed against your neck, the kissing never stopping. “Soobin.”

His lips trailed up from your neck to your jaw, his nose brushing softly the invisible path he was following, eyelashes tickling you. “Why?” he asked you, a soft pout forming in his lips as you stopped in just when he was about to place them over yours. You bit down a smile, he looked so cute with his hair slightly disheveled, his eyes dark and heavy staring into yours and his ears flushed red. “Let me kiss you, y/n.”

You couldn’t say no to him, honestly, so you just smiled when he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours again, the sweet taste of him filling your tasting senses as his tongue moved with more confidence in your mouth. “Can’t get enough” he mumbled in between kisses. “Can’t get enough of you” he reluctantly pulled back, lips pouting automatically. “I wanted to kiss you from the moment you woke up” that made you giggle softly, couldn’t helping get on your tiptoes to plant a tender kiss on the corner of his red lips, his arms around you tightening if it was even possible.

“You should have then, my prince” you replied, arching an eyebrow.

“Perhaps I could have if you didn’t have such a guardian dog to your side” he mumbled, nose wrinkling and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, lucky for you, you have me all to yourself in this dancing lessons” you said, smiling smugly at the prince, whose lips spread into a grin after mumbling lucky me. “We really should go back to the dancing part, though.”

“Right” the prince nodded, yet his eyes glinted. “But my services are not free… I must have something in return, you know?” you snorted as the prince batted his eyelashes and puck out his lips.

So maybe days in the strange world weren’t so awful as you first expected; soon, as your body began gaining strength, the daily exercises Beomgyu put you through became more tolerable and you weren’t a mess anymore at the end of the day. Magic was still tough, but not like in the beginning; even though it still felt like the air was knocked out of your system, you at least could handle some movement under it which, for you, was a lot of improvement. And about the prince… well, you did learn how to dance quite quickly, it was fairly easier that you thought it would have been or maybe you just had a really, really, good teacher at that. Still, even though you caught on the basics fast, you didn’t stop meeting Soobin every night after dinner and what was supposed to be the rest of some dancing lessons ended up being some kissing sessions.

Not that you were complaining thought.

“Hello pretty, I am so, so sorry for being late” said the prince as he stormed into the ballroom, jogging in your direction while you waited for him patiently sat down against the window’s frame, your eyes flicking from the night sky scenery outside to the man approaching you with his eyebrows knitted. “The King and the Queen wanted to have a word with me.”

“Everything okay?” you questioned, the corner of your lips curling a little as he stopped in front of you and his hand went immediately to its usual spot on your waist. Soobin leaned in and planted a soft kiss on top of your head, mumbling another apology against your skin before pulling back a little to look at you properly.

“Of course, just some last-minute arrangements for the ball” he replied while you moved up your hand to reach the lose strand of hair falling over his eyes and softly pushing it away, your thump caressing over one of his perfectly-shaped eyebrows. “Nothing to worry about” a silent smile spread on your face as you observed the prince closing his eyes at your touch, his own pretty lips stretching on a little smile. “Sorry for making you wait, pretty.”

“I don’t think I can forgive you so easily, my prince” you replied jokingly; Soobin’s eyes slowly opened meeting yours immediately, his own hand going up to cup yours in his and place it near his lips so that you would be cupping his cheek. “Should I make it up to you?” Soobin’s head moved slightly to have his lips under your hand, planting a tender kiss in the middle of your palm, his eyes never leaving yours. “Here you shouldn’t  be treated with anything but the best, I assure you.”

“Well, that’s sweet” you replied as you got on your tiptoes to kiss Soobin’s chin, instead your own lips falling against his as he tilted his head just in time to caught you; the hand cupping yours pulling away to hold onto the back of your head instead, leaving you no chance to pull away from him.

“That is sweet” he mumbled against your lips, barely putting some distance between you as a smug smile trailed up in his face. Soobin started walking backwards, pulling you with him; you frowned as you were dragged by the prince out of the ballroom, his hand leaving your waist to grab properly your hand, interwinding his fingers with yours as he made his way through the long halls.

“Soobin? Where are we going?”

“I want to make it up to you for being late” he answered, looking over his shoulder and smiling brightly at you. “I want to show you something I think you would like, come on!”

Now, as to why did Soobin thought you’d like to see the horses stable, that is something you really couldn’t quite answer. Still, you walked behind him as he pushed the wooden doors open and flicked on the lights, smiling amused as he turned to look at your reaction. You, well, you could just stare at the amount of horses inside, some curled up sleeping, others munching some hay, and others, like a tall white beautiful one, neighing with enthusiasms at the sight of the prince.

“Hello my dearest friend” you heard Soobin mumbled as he stopped in front of the white horse, his free hand going up to scratch his long neck. “I’ve brought someone for you to meet” Soobin took a step aside, allowing you to stand face to face with the horse whose eyes seemed to look at you up and down before scoffing. Should you feel attacked? Soobin giggled at your reaction. “Y/n, this is Odi; Odi, this is my guest y/n.”

“Odi?” you mumbled under your breath, the horse’s ears jolting at the sound of his name, stomping his hoof on the floor. “Nice to meet you Odi.”

Cute, thought Soobin as he pulled your hand under his and guided it to rest on Odi’s neck, showing you how to caress him, his eyes glued to you as you smiled at his horse.

“Ever rode a horse before?” asked Soobin as let Odi out, guiding him from the hold on his reins. You shook your head, following Soobin out of the stable; you observed how he adjusted the saddle on Odi’s back, patting him tenderly before turning to you, a hand stretching in your direction. “Wouldn’t it be good to do it now?”

“… Really?” you asked bashfully, placing your hand over his and taking a few steps closer to him.

Soobin nodded. “I will help you up, okay?” his hands quickly found their place on your hips, grabbing tightly enough to lift you up from the floor and over Odi’s back, the horse scoffing some more as you grabbed onto the reins for dear life, earning a sweet chuckle from the prince who soon followed you and jumped over, throwing a leg over the seat, his arms on each side of you as he leaned in to grab your own hands holding the reins. “Are you okay?” he asked amused at your shrinking self.

Maybe riding a horse wearing a dress wasn’t the most ideal plan, you even had to seat with both legs on the same side, the side of your body meeting Soobin’s chest as he pulled you closer to him and held the reins tighter, his breath brushing on top of your head.

“This isn’t so ba- ah, fuck!” you exclaimed when Odi started moving, startling you and making you let go of the reins to hold onto what you thought was more stable: Soobin. “Sorry, sorry, that scared the shit out of me- oh, fuck, Beomgyu would kill me if he heard me.”

Soobin laughed as he fastened Odi’s pace into the so familiar paths he had grown riding; little by little you grew accustomed to it and, feeling a little more confident, you turned your body to the front, eyes looking in amusement at the scenery changing in front of you; the only light outside was the moonlight that illuminated the path in the forest Soobin was following.

“Oh, wow” you muttered, a big smile appearing on your face as you leaned in thoughtlessly, enjoying the breeze hitting against you and making your hair fly back as Odi galloped through the forest. Soobin smiled behind you as he watched closely how you started to enjoy the ride.

“We’re here” announced the prince as he slowed down his horse, pulling from the reins; your mouth slightly hung open as you watched the small lake in front of you, shining under the moonlight, the soothing sound of the current making you relax instantly. Soobin jumped off the horse and turn on his heels, his hands finding your hips to help you get down.

“Hey, what is this?” you asked, flicking your eyes to the reflect of lights in the water to the prince. Soobin’s hands remained on your hips, his thumps drawing circles against the clothe skin while a soft smile draw on his face.

“Something I thought you would like.”

Soobin walked over to the lake, softly dragging you along, and only pulled his hands away from you when he hunched down to take his shoes off; your eyebrows furrowed as you observed him sinking his feet in the water and go into the lake, stopping when it reached its hips to turn and look at you, his eyes obviously telling you to get in too.

So, there you were, bare feet getting into the lake following the prince, trying to push down the silk of your dress that started flowing up while approaching Soobin, whose hand quickly sneaked around your waist when you caught up to him, pressing you against his side, a soft smile on his pretty lips as you put an arm over his shoulders.

“The water’s not…” “Cold? Yeah, it’s magic.” Or maybe it was Soobin’s heat irradiating from his body to yours, either way you didn’t say anything else as the prince walked further into the water until it reached his chest and your shoulders, your feet not touching the ground anymore which only made you grab tighter onto him.

“You okay?” he asked, turning his head, the tip of his nose brushing against your ear and his breath brushing against your skin making you get goosebumps. You nodded, turning your head to look back at him, your nose coming in contact with his. The prince hummed, the corner of his lips curling up as he softly placed them against yours.

Thoughtlessly, your own body turned to face the prince’s, your legs going up and around his waist, holding his frame in between, maybe for some more stability, maybe because you wanted him closer; Soobin gulped down, both of his hands hugging you behind your back as you clasped your hands behind his head, your fingertips pressing against the little hairs on his neck.

The prince hummed against your mouth. “You know that I love kissing you but I’m afraid this is not what I wanted to show you” he mumbled against your lips as he pulled away a little, a bit of fun in his voice. “Look up at the sky, pretty.”

Throwing your head back, you did as you were told, your mouth opening at the beautiful sight of the sky filled with shining stars above you, big full moon radiating the most precious light that reflected against the water they were in, bathing the prince and you as well; Soobin swears he could see the stars shining in your eyes as he was solely focused on you and the way your sweet lips stretched into a pretty smile at the sight, feeling his heart beating like a wild animal against his chest.

“Soobin this is so beautifu- oh, that is nice too” you hummed as you felt the warm lips of the prince pressing down against the skin on your throat, leaving a trail of wet kisses everywhere, a sigh escaping from your lips as a relaxed smile trailing up, the hold around you tightening as the man hummed in delight against you.

“I thought it would be nice for you to spend some time out of the castle walls” he muttered, brushing the tip of his nose softly up and down your neck. “Was I right? Did I do good?”

You hummed, feeling your cheeks burning up as you heard his voice― which was naturally very deep, going even lower while he moved up to your ear, his plush limps brushing against your earlobe before his tongue and lips got it caught in between them, making you whine softly at the weird feeling of it.

“Yeah, so good” you mumbled, eyes shutting close while your hands clasped his hair, feeling his teeth provocatively nibbling at your ear, his heavy breath turning yours into one alike. Soobin let out a deep and long sigh against your skin, the palm of his hands spreading open wide on your back, pulling you closer as if it was even possible.

As soon as you looked back down to the man, his lips attached to yours, moving painfully slow making you ache for more. With your own hands you pressed him closer to you, tilting your head to deepened the kiss, drinking the low groan that crept from the back of his throat at your motion, hands tensing against you.

Soobin’s tongue was warm, moving longingly inside your mouth, the once spec of bashfulness from the first kisses long gone; you couldn’t help your own sounds coming out of you as the man sucked at your wet muscle, his own gasps for air in between, hands grabbing onto you more desperately each time, his hips started moving at a slow pace against you, the feeling of his growing erection pushing against your clothe core making you tense under his touch, pulling at his hair with yearning, only gaining more beautiful sounds from the prince who seemed to accelerate his pace with that.

“Fuck, don’t do that to me” he pleaded against your mouth when you grabbed his bottom lip in between yours, sucking his skin like he was some sweet for you to eat and softly pulling. You flicked your eyes open, his lip still caught in between yours, only to meet his heavy gaze on you, eyelids half-open. A smug smile crept on your own lips as you purposely let go of his lip, only to immediately lap on it. “Y/n-“ your name left his lips in a shaky breath as his hands trailed down from your back to your thighs, squeezing your muscles hard in his big palms. “I- I want to touch you. I need to touch you.”

“Do it.”

Soobin’s hands started trailing up your thighs, pushing the clothe of your dress with them and sneaking underneath it; a sigh escaped from you as you felt him grab onto the bone of your hips, unbashful as he guided them up and down against his hard crotch, making the both of you pant against each other, the rhythm of his hips increasing each time until either of you were satisfied with it and wanted more.

“Fu-fuck, Soobin” you muttered under your breath as the man practically started pounding on you still full clothed, the sounds of the water splashing in between your bodies getting you dizzy in the head, meanwhile the prince took the best of the cares to your neck with his mouth, tongue running over and tasting you, biting softly and moaning against you. “Need you, fuck- please, need to feel you.”

You heard the growl erupt from the prince’s throat at your words, his body underneath you tensing and then how his hands hurriedly move to the waist of his own pair of pants; even though you couldn’t see anything that was happening under the line of the water, you felt his hands move and brush against you as he pulled down his pants, then pulling you closer once more, forcing a whine out of you as you felt his hard, bare dick pressing against your hot, still clothed entrance.

“Felt me enough?” he inquired, a smug smirk curling up in his face as he thrusted against you, watching every little expression you made, adoring the way your eyes rolled back before you shut them and the contrast of your mouth opening as you panted. The lack of answer only made Soobin click his tongue and push you harder against you, using the hold on your hips to push you against him, matching his own movements. “I guess this is enough for you, mh?”

“N-no, wait” you mumbled, forcing your eyes open to stare at him; Soobin had to bite down his own lip to avoid a pathetic groan escaping from him at your pleading look, eyebrows furrowed, cheeks red, lips swollen, eyes glassy.

“What is it? You have to speak up and tell me what you want, pretty” your legs hugged Soobin’s waist tighter, pushing him closer to you, your own hips moving against his making the prince chuckle airily.

“Need to feel you inside, Soobin, please.”

The way you so prettily moan his name had him almost rolling his eyes to the back of his head; instead, he managed to grab the waist of your panties and pulled them down, your legs forced to let go of him for Soobin to pulled them off completely. One of his hands found you quickly as the other grab his length, eyes fixated on yours as he placed the tip against your entrance, a sigh caught in his throat as he felt the heat and warmness from it, even though your body was underwater.

A shaky breath came from him as he pushed himself inside, head falling backwards as he felt the way your walls so deliciously clenched around him and heard the beautiful sounds that came out of you, breath leaving your body as you felt the big cock sliding inside your pussy, spreading you apart, making you dizzy in the head.

“So tight for me, pretty” he groaned once he bottomed out, forcing himself to take a look at you, his lips curling into a smirk as he saw the pleasure washing over your features; Soobin closed the gap in between yours and smashed your lips together, panting against you when he felt you clench around him even more.

“Soobin” you pleaded against his lip, him drinking up every little sound you made because of him, your hips moving up and down against him, trying to fuck yourself with his cock and failing at it while he held your hips tightly in their place. “Need more, fuck- need you to move-

“Yeah?” he chuckled breathlessly, pulling away from inside you until it was just his tip, then thrusting back in, earning a breathy moan from you that had his dick twitching. “Like this?”

“Yeah, like that” you nodded, your hand grabbing a fist of his hair on the back of his head while your hips started moving again at the loss of movement from the man. You whined in annoyance; why was he such a tease? “Soobin, please.”

The sound of his name falling out of your lips had him doing what you wanted again, this time not coming to a stop as his thrusts gained a rhythm that had your mind spinning around; Soobin moaned loudly when you tugged the hair caught in between your fingers, making him going even harder against you, tongue twirling over his lip as he devoured the way your eyes rolled back when he started going deeper.

“Fuck, that’s it” you moaned before pushing his head down to caught his lips in between yours, his raspy gasps for air against your open mouth, tongues devouring each other.

“Is this what you wanted? Uh?” he inquired, his hands squeezing hard against you, fingers practically burying on your skin as he slammed into you. “Fuck, I’ll give you anything you want, pretty.”

Sweet honey-like words were ignored by you as your body started tensing up, one of your hands grasping to his shoulder hardly enough to bury your nails on his skin, earning a hiss from him. You were close and he felt it too, cooing at the way you walls sucked him in. “Going to cum for me, all over me? Please do, fuc-“

“Oh, fuck-“

Your toes curled as you felt the knot in your low stomach snap, your head falling backwards, mind going numb as pleasure washed all over your body; Soobin cursed under his breath feeling the way your juices coated him completely, warm, thrusting a few more times before he was coming undone too, turning into a moaning mess, his lips pressed against your ear making you the direct receiver of his sounds.

As the sounds slowly died down, all you could hear was the heavy pants from the both of you; Soobin groaned, sensitive, his dick still inside you, lips sticking to your neck, peppering kisses all over you. “Are you okay?” he asked, tenderness in his voice.

You nodded, letting your head fall against his shoulder, the tight hold on it gone as you caressed his back. “A little tired” Soobin chuckled and finally pulled out from you, still hugging you closer to him, embracing you in his firm arms.

“We should go back and have some sleep” he decided after smoothly pulling back on his pants just with a hand, while the other held you close, then started walking closer to the edge of the lake. You hummed in agreement, letting yourself be carried by the prince out of the water.

-

“What…” you looked confused at the two men standing in front of you; Beomgyu was a common sight already as you were in the middle of your magic training session; however, Soobin being out of his usual schedule was a rare one as the prince could only meet you during meals or after dinner. “What is going on?”

“We have something for you” spoke the prince, smile drawing on his face before flicking his eyes to his friend, who tirelessly sighed and walked over to a covered mirror in the middle of his office, pulling the curtain away and waving his hand for you to walk closer.

“Soobin forced me to do this” said Beomgyu once you stopped behind him in front of the mirror, yourself standing in between the two tall man was quite a funny sight and you knew they thought it too as you watched their reflecting expressions; Soobin trying his best to conceal it while Beomgyu practically snorted seamlessly. “Hand.”

You looked down at the mage’s palm opening for you to take it; slightly confused, you did, looking up again to meet his brown eyes staring at you through the mirror, a sly smirk spreading on his face. “You don’t have to look so scared, Bambi.”

“Not scared, confused” you replied, with a slight roll of eyes. “Can you tell me what is going on?” you asked the prince, eyes flicking from the reflection of the mage to his.

“It’s a surprise” he said, soft smile on his face turning into a little pout as he held up his own hand for you. “Hold me too.”

“Toddler” muttered Beomgyu on your side as you took the prince’s hand.

“Shut up.”

Then you felt the wave of magic flowing right into your body, a stronger wave than the ones you were used to making your knees shake a little; your eyes flicked back to the mage whose focus was all on the glass in front of you, yet to no one in particular. Then you saw how a purple smoke swirl appeared in the pane of glass, just where your face was and soon all you could see was a pitch-black hole.

Not long after, the hole was filled with color, noise coming from it and then the clear images on the other side making you gasp, your heart clenching on your chest.

“What the actual fuck is th- Y/n?!” Yeonjun terrified scowl quickly disappeared from his face, his eyebrows jumping while his eyes opened wide in shock, blinking a few times and rubbing his eyes before looking back at the mirror in front of him. “What the fuck? Did I lose my shit already? God-“

“I see where this little habit of yours come from” mumbled Beomgyu as your friend on the other side kept on and on, talking more to himself than to you.

“Junie” you said, voice breaking at the sight of your best friend. Yeonjun stopped talking when your voice reached his ears, mouth hanging open; you saw perfectly fine how his eyes filled with tears and how he moved to grab the mirror in his hand desperately.

“Holy fuck? It’s you, really?” he asked, lips trembling. You wanted to lean closer, but the men beside you held you tight by your hand. “Are you okay? Where are you? Do you have any idea-“ his voice broke and he had to stop to take a deep breath before continuing. “We thought you were dead, y/n, you just… completely vanished into air, no one could find you anywhere.”

“Sorry, sorry” you said as if you were in a trance, the realization of what it must have been to your friends, to Granny, to Yeonjun, thinking you were gone, not knowing anything about you for weeks; then you noticed the prominent bag under Yeonjun’s eyes, his plump lips dried and bitten, the despair in his eyes and you felt even sicker. “I’m sorry” you sobbed.

You saw Yeonjun chuckle shakily, moving his head to his sides. “Don’t be, baby, just tell me you’re okay, tell me where are you so I can come and get you, okay?” You saw how his jaw clenched and how he inhaled sharply before speaking again, this time with a little more anger in his voice. Your friend was an emotional mess, and you totally got why. “Did that bastard kidnap you? Knew he was fucking crazy from the start, fuck, shoulda beat him up when he was just under my nose.”

Soobin awkwardly cleared his throat before leaning closer to you, waving his free hand to your friend whose eyes seemed on fire when he caught the sight of the prince standing next to you.

“You!” Yeonjun exclaimed. “Soobin, when I catch you-! When I catch you, Soobin- if that is really your name!”

Beomgyu laughed loudly, catching your friend’s attention too. “And who the fuck is this?” The mage’s laugh came to an abrupt stop, brown eyes staring daggers at your friend who scowled back.

“Do you have any idea who you are talking to, you insignificant being?” “Ah, god, another one with his head screwed?”

After a few long minutes of explaining everything that had happened to Yeonjun and another few long minutes of convincing that everything you were telling him was true and that no, you hadn’t gone crazy too and that no, the men with you weren’t crazy either, Yeonjun reluctantly accepted your side of the story.

“So? When will you be back?” he asked; you turned to look at the mage who side-eyed you quickly before rolling his eyes.

“We still don’t know that-“ Beomgyu inhaled sharply as your friend interrupted him with a load of curses and bitterly smiled before speaking again. “Lovely. As I was saying, we don’t know for sure but maybe… a few weeks? Maybe a month thought, I really am using a lot of energy on this precious right now.”

“Sorry, are you tired?” you asked worried, turning your head to get a better look of the mage’s face; Beomgyu did look quite tired, he seemed to be trying to hide it but the look on his eyes and the way his hold on your hand started to become lose each minute was enough for you to notice it. “Oh” your eyebrows furrowed. “Junie, we need to go now.”

“What?” asked your friend, fear appearing on his face.

“I’m sorry, I can’t let Beomgyu use all of his energy now” you said, looking sorry at your friend. “I love you and I will contact you again, okay? I’ll let you know when I’ll be back and I am so, so sorry for having you so worried all this time.”

Yeonjun pouted but still nodded. “I love you too, y/n, please be safe and if any fucker mess with you be sure to rip out their bal-

“Sure!” you cut him off, giggling softly as you felt Soobin tensing behind you. “Take care of Granny, okay?”

Yeonjun smirked. “Of course, baby.”

And then the image disappeared; Beomgyu beside you let out a long and exhausted sigh, his hand falling limb to his side, yours only grabbing onto his. “Thanks” he muttered under his breath, eyes flicking down to yours, a little ashamed by his weakness. You nodded, squeezing his shaking hand in yours and smiled softly at him.

“Guess today’s lesson’s canceled” the mage chuckled lowly, shaking his head, mumbling something under his breath you didn’t catch onto before he turned on his heals and went over to the couch, letting himself fall over it.

“Wouldn’t you be happy if that was the case?” replied the mage, letting his head lean back on the couch’s chair, eyes closing and a simple frown on his face, even though his lips were curled up in a tiny smirk.

“You think badly of me, oh Blessed One” you answered, rolling your eyes and letting yourself take the seat next to him. “I’m not that weak to magic anymore though…” you mumbled; Beomgyu’s eyes flicked open to look at you, arching his eyebrow.

“Lucky for you that I am a little bit tired, I would have whooped your ass if not.”

“A little kinky, aren’t ya?” you said, smugness in your voice as you tried to suppress your laugh; Beomgyu’s lips trembled in annoyance before he huffed and looked away, only making your laugh escaped from you. “You’re so fun, Beomgyu.”

“And you’re insufferable.”

And Soobin didn’t know the two of you had gotten so close to the other; the prince observing the interaction between you two as he stood still in front of the mirror, unknowingly frowning as he watched you laugh and joke with the mage who, even though was frowning, and sighing, and snorting, was enjoying the little fight you put up with him. Soobin noticed it, he knew his friend after all and the glint in his brown eyes that rolled at your words was enough for him to tell.

Yes, he was aware that the two of you would spend several hours in the company of the other and yes, he did know you didn’t have much trouble getting comfortable to new people; you had demonstrated that once you met him and again when you got into his world, the servants everyday growing fonder of you as he had been informed. The thing was Beomgyu, a person he had grown with and knew perfectly well, a person who was uninterested to everything below him; who was annoyed first at the mere thought of babysitting you but now seemed to enjoy the little bickering you two had.

Oh, he didn’t like at all what he was feeling.

Sadly, for the prince, he soon needed to be excused and return to his daily duties, leaving him with no choice but to say goodbye to the both of you, a bittersweet taste in his mouth as he walked away and out of the room.

“Why are you still here?” questioned Beomgyu after Soobin was gone, the common judgy look on his eyes making you scoff.

“I can’t?” “I certainly would prefer if you go away.”

“C’mon, Beomgyu, don’t lie to me, I know you enjoy spending some quality time with me” you smiled brightly to the man in front of you, whose eyes widened for a second for you to see clearly the thought of she must be insane on his head. “There must be something fun we can do to kill some time today.”

“Just say you don’t know anyone else around, Bambi” he said, voice tinted with amusement, making you roll your eyes.

“Not like you have any other friends, Beomgyu.”

“You are really annoying, you know that?” Beomgyu snarled. “Okay, fine, maybe there is something we can do.”

That is how you and Beomgyu found yourselves leaving the grounds of the castles, teleporting into town; himself under his usual cloak, hood covering almost all his face while you, on the other hand, wear one of the pretty dresses that filled the wardrobe of your bedroom, kindly being tidy up by the maids when you told them you were going out.

“You really should cover yourself” is what Beomgyu said before he’d take your hand and made you appear on the entrance of the carnival displaying all over the town. Ignoring the twist on your guts by magic travelling, you soon got mesmerized as you observed around; it really resembled the pictures you used to watch, everything looking kinda medieval but with the little twist of magic being a crucial part of society.

Beomgyu observed the way you watched every single detail carefully, your eyes almost sparkling at everything that was so common in his life and he couldn’t fight the small smile threatening on his face.

“Let’s go!” you exclaimed, clearly excited as you walked into the town’s heart; new smells and sights stealing your attention by the second, dragging the mage by the hold you had in his hand, making him awkwardly stumble on his own feet as he tried not to crash against your small body leading the way.

“Come, come here, my child, and taste Madam Renée’s delicious caramel apples!” your attention was quickly stolen by the gentle lady who flashed smiles in your direction, displaying some really good-looking caramel apples for you to have your mouth watering and your feet moving on their own as if you were in some kind of spell.

“You shouldn’t use magic to attract clientele, old lady” it was Beomgyu’s stern voice behind you that got you out of your trance, his hand sliding up from under yours to hold your wrist in place before you could grab one of the apples. Your eyes flicked to the lady behind the counter whose smile suddenly dropped and scoffed at the mage.

“Back away, little rascal, I’m just doing business” the lady snarled at him before smiling again at you. “How many would you like, sweetie?”

The little glint in her eye made you gulp a little nervous. “Just one, please.”

“Do you even have any money?” questioned Beomgyu, tilting his head over your shoulder to look at you. You laughed nervously, feeling some warm spreading through your cheeks as you remembered that, in fact, you were broken.

“Forgot about that” you mumbled, showing the mage the best-selling smile you could; Beomgyu scoffed and grab the apple you had reached for initially, leaning over you and putting down some gold coins on the counter.

“Two apples, old hag.”

“Better watch your mouth, you little shi-“ the lady’s words quickly stopped as Beomgyu lifted up his hood a little, revealing his face enough for the lady to recognized him, the color of her face quickly draining. “O-oh! What an honor to have you here, master."

“That’s better. Let’s go, Bambi.”

After grabbing your own apple, you hurried behind Beomgyu’s tall frame, your eyes looking up curiously as you tasted the really sweet apple.

“You really are careless, y/n” he muttered, giving you a stern look as the both of you continue your walk down the carnival. “What would have happened if that old hag had worse intentions and you just obediently followed her?”

“Good for me I have you, then” you answered flashing an innocent smile at the mage whose eyes quickly snapped away from you, nose shrinking in annoyance.

“Ah, yes” he sighed already feeling the headache the whole day with you was going to give him. “I guess you are lucky indeed.”

Even if he didn’t want to admit it, Beomgyu ended up having a good time; it had been a really long time since he had been into town’s carnival, his good only memory of it unfortunately being attached to a really bad one that had had him having nightmares uncountable times just until a few years ago. But this time, with you annoyingly running around amused at everything, reminding Beomgyu of a little cub, and him following you to stop you from getting into trouble, he barely had time to think about anything else.

“Break time” he pleaded, taking a seat on the edge of the fountain that decorated the town’s center, coins filling its ground as people still had that silly belief of asking for wishes. You smiled at the, your arm brushing to his as you carelessly fell took the seat next to his unknowingly too close, your eyes admiring the surroundings, a soft smile resting on your face. The sun had started to set down and that meant the lights had flicked on, bathing everywhere in warm light; laughs were heard everywhere and music reached your ears as a small group played some catchy melodies, making people stop to either hear some more or dance around. “I might have made an extraordinary job with you- how do you even have energy left, Bambi?”

Laughing, you replied. “I guess you could say I am the best one of your students so far, uh?” you joked, making Beomgyu scoff.

“Yeah, the best at annoying my ass” you laughed even louder at his comeback and Beomgyu couldn’t help but to stare a little longer than he should, the warm lights making you glow underneath them, his heart painfully skipping a beat― what? The realization made him pull his eyes away from you, the smile on his face that he had fail to notice falling. “We should go back now.”

“Oh” he hated the sad look on your face when you heard that and the way your smile faltered a little as you tried to keep the eye contact with him, failing at the end and looking away before nodding. “Alright, let’s go.”

You followed Beomgyu or, well, tried to but it became harder as he only fasted his pace; not only that but the amount of people had multiplied and you had to stop in your tracks several times to avoid bumping into someone. You tried calling for Beomgyu but he didn’t seem to hear, only walking back to the entrance of the town and after a few more people got in your way, you soon lose the sight of him.

“… Princess…” you looked around, the mass of people flowing around you and blocking your sight making your chest hurt, the feeling of being trapped and the failed attempts to spot the mage around making you panic, the palm of your hands sweating as you clenched them in fists; the shiver running down your spine made you slightly jump in your caged spot, turning your head around to watch where the sinister whispers were coming from. “Little princess, you’re time is running out, hehehe-“ Your breath got caught up in your throat, a feeling you already knew and never wanted to feel again, but the familiar voice that tormented you during the nights alone paralyzed you.

“Dumbass” a big and warm hand grabbed your shoulder, starling you; Beomgyu arched an eyebrow when you flinched and turned around, eyes bewildered and breath agitated. “What is it? Were you that scared of losing me?” Even the little tease in his voice didn’t help you calm down, your eyes leaving his to look around once more, your sweaty hands moving up to clasp his forearm tightly, scared of being left alone there.

You were grateful he didn’t start interrogating you right in the middle of the sea of people and instead was quick to drag you out of there; his eyes though, they flicked back and forth to you in concern and it was only when the two of you were at a safe distance from everyone else when he decided to speak. “Tell me what got you like this, Bambi.”

You fail to notice the way you had been gripping onto his forearm this whole time and only let go of him when his free hand brushed your fingers’ thigh hold, blinking a few times before taking in a deep breath, trying to calm your scared heart.

“He was here” you mumbled, the slight tremble in your voice not going unnoticed by the mage.

“Who?” he frowned, unconsciously taking a step closer to you, even if he knew he couldn’t help it, you looked like such a lost deer that he felt the urge to save you in his pocket.

“Kai.” “That is impossible.” “I am sure, Beomgyu.”

The mage gulped down at the serious look your shot him, one of your hands clasping the cloth of his cloak and hanging in there, your eyes still bathed in fear but managing to contain a little of yourself to connect with his eyes. Beomgyu’s mind rushed in thoughts― if Kai was there, how come he didn’t sense him? Were you sure? Or was it the trauma of your last encounter with the dark mage playing with your mind right now? Whatever it was he knew he had to investigate it further, but alone so what he did was sigh and grab the hand hanging from his clothe in between his.

“Let’s get you to safety first” he said, not waiting a second before teleporting the two of you back into the castle, and exactly to where he knew you needed to be right now.

Soobin’s eyes flicked up from the papers spreading all over his desk when the warm and familiar light loomed up out of nowhere in the middle of his office, his eyebrows knitting as he was able to spot the figures of both his best friend and you hand in hand.

“Good evening, Your Highness” mumbled Beomgyu, turning his head to look at his friend sitting behind his desk, the dark frames slipping on the bridge of his nose being pushed back into place as he leaned back to observe at the mage. Hearing his words, you also looked to the prince glaring at the two of you, an almost inaudible sigh of relief leaving you at the sight of him.

“Soobin” your lips stretched into a soft smile, your hand scaping from the mage’s hold as you took a step closer to the prince. Soobin’s eyes flicked to you and, even thought he smiled back, you noticed how it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hello y/n” the stiffness in his voice got you frowning a little and the way he broke the eye contact with you to look down at the papers on his desk got you stopping in your tracks.

“I will be off now, got some work to do” informed the mage on your back, not waiting for an answer from anyone as he walked to the doors and crossed them, shutting them close behind him and leaving you alone with the prince in his office― you and him and the awkward silence around you.

“Is something wrong?” you asked softly as you walked closer to the prince, whose eyes still rejected to look back at you. Soobin hummed, writing something down before answering.

“Of course not, why would it be?”

You stopped next to him, behind his desk, and leaned against the dark wood; your fingers shadowed under the prince’s chin before pushing it up, forcing him to meet your eyes as you whispered a look at me, Soobin.

A long sigh came out of his pouty lips the moment his dark eyes met yours, his eyebrows knitting immediately over his dark frames; your free hand moved up and grabbed the frames before delicately pulling them off, placing them away on his desk before you cupped his cheek, your thump caressing his soft skin earning another shaky sigh from him.

“Tell me what is wrong, mh?” you asked as you pulled off some pretty eyes just for him, tenderly drawing circles on his skin

Fuck, you were good, he thought. “How… How was the carnival?” he asked, envy evident on his voice catching you a little off guard.

“Well, I had fun” you replied with honesty, deciding to leave the last part out, tilting your head slightly as you leaned closer to look into his eyes, trying to decipher what was happening with your little prince. “Were you sulking cause you couldn’t come?”

“… No” he answered, bashfully looking at a random object behind you. “I am most definitely not sulking… I just- I don’t know, it’s embarrassing” his ears tinted red as he flicked his eyes back to yours. “I am a little sad that I wasn’t the one escorting you.”

“I see” you mumbled trying to bite down the amusement in your voice, yet your eyes shone in a way that gave you away, making the prince getting even more embarrassed. “So, you were jealous, uh?”

“God, it sounds awful if you put it like that” he groaned ashamed, making you laugh a little.

“I just spoke the facts, Soobin” you smiled tenderly before leaning closer and giving him a soft kiss on his pouty lips. “There is nothing for you to be jealous about.”

“But there is” he mumbled, his head following yours as you pulled away from the short kiss, his eyes glued to your lips. “Not only Beomgyu’s the one taking you to the carnival but to the dance.”

“What do you mean? I don’t remember him asking me” you replied, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “You haven’t asked me either” Soobin groaned again, this time in annoyance.

“Trust me, there is nothing more that I want but that. I would have already asked you if I wasn’t..., well, me” he replied, tasting the last word bitterly. “The Crown Prince isn’t supposed to take anyone to the ball, he’s supposed to just stand beside his parents like some kind of accessory for them to brag about all night long.”

“Oh, that sounds…” you grimaced; wasn’t this supposed to be a ball to celebrate the prince’s safety return? Biting down the question, you decided to plant another sweet kiss on the prince’s lips, who reciprocated assertively and again chased after your lips once you pulled away. “Cheer up, bunny, it will be only a couple of songs, I’m sure Beomgyu would leave me when he gets tired.”

“I am confident he will not” he replied a little bit sulky but still leaning in to your touch. “Bunny, uh?”

“A little nickname I thought it suited you” Soobin lips stretched into a tiny smile as he turned his face to plant a kiss on the palm of your hand still cupping his cheek. “Do you like it?”

“Love everything that comes from you, pretty.”

Days went on and the ball was just around the corner; the castle was buzzling with the final preparations for the main event of the Kingdom, maids and butlers rushing all over the halls, even Beomgyu started getting severely interrupted for instructions by his disciples during your lessons. You observed carefully how the mage explained something into further detail to the rest of the young mages, them watching him with stars in their eyes and nodding at the words leaving his mouth. As he turned around, one of his brown eyebrows arched in your direction while you stared at him from your sit on the couch.

“I guess you are pretty looked up to” you stated once his disciples rushed out of his office; Beomgyu snorted, his eyes rolling but a faint shadow of a smile appearing on his lips.

“And you realize that now?”

“Looks like I’ll be going to the ball with someone quite big” you said playfully, your eyebrows moving up and down at the mage.

“I don’t recall asking you to be my partner.” “Who else would you take then?” “Mind you, I am a pretty solicited man in this kingdom, Bambi.”

“Okay, I can see that” you replied, nodding slightly as you got up and walked closer to the mage who seemed a little taken aback and almost flinched. “Well then, I will ask you first. Would you like to be my partner for the dance? … God, this feels like prom but older.”

Ignoring your last sentence, Beomgyu frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Aren’t you going with your oh, so charming prince in shining armor?”

“He told me he isn’t supposed to take anyone…”

“Oh, so he told you” the mage nodded, dark brown eyes staring into yours. “And I am the second option?” the corner of his lips slightly turned down.

“You’re no second option, you’re just the best one I have right now” you answered smiling jokingly at him. “Although I don’t really mind going alone” you added, ending with a simple shrug on your shoulders. “If you want to go with someone else that is completely fine” Beomgyu snarled at your comment, making you a little confused so you ended up adding: “Or if you just don’t want to go with me, geez, that’s fine too.”

“Shut up” he mumbled. “Fine, I’ll go with- no, you’ll come with me. I will pick you up from your bedroom so you better be ready in time.”

You smiled. “Of course, partner.”

“Master Beomgyu! A word, please?”

Ball day arrived as fast as you could blink and it was the most chaotic morning you had ever have in a long time; maids rushing in your bedroom at early hours, spreading open the curtains to let the natural light inside, pulling away your bedcovers from your body making you flinch in your bed and then tugging from you out of the comfort of your sleep to get you inside the bathroom and help you bathe.

They dedicated full hours to polish every single detail of you; from your nails to your eyebrows, doing a full skincare all over your body and even a massaging session to help you relax your muscles. By the time you were all dressed up and your hair was finishing getting done, you heard a few knocks on your door.

“The mage is here!” exclaimed one of the maids after speaking to Beomgyu on the other side, making you frown; he was earlier than he had said. Either way, you just motioned for them to let him in; you heard his footsteps as he walked inside but you couldn’t turn to greet him as a maid was working on finishing your make up, blocking your view and movements completely, only being able to hear the rest of the servants offering him to take a seat on the couch and wait for you.

“We are done, miss!”

There wasn’t a time when seeing yourself all dolled up by the maids didn’t catch you off guard but this time it made you had to close your mouth after a few seconds when you realized you were gawking at yourself; they really should rise their salary you thought as your fingers brushed your face still in amusement, your eyes trailing up from the beautiful and delicate jewelry they had put on you to the dress hugging your body and falling to the floor splendidly.

Fucking Cinderella shit.

Clumsily you got up from the seat and turned around to face the mage who was too focused on his own nails to notice you were ready; his eyes only snapped up to you when he heard your steps getting closer― oh. Beomgyu’s eyes grew bigger at the sight of you, gulping down to kill the feeling of his heart beating loudly on his throat, his own mouth going slack as his eyes moved down to your figure. The mage opened his mouth trying to get some words out, anything but when nothing came out he decided to clear his throat and stand up, ignoring the shameful way his knees trembled as he took steps closer to you.

“You cut your hair!” you exclaimed surprised at the sight of the mage; he wasn’t wearing his usual robes nor he had his long hair falling over his shoulders or tied in a ponytail as usual. Beomgyu’s hair was cut short, still fairly long, but its ends reaching his shoulders, wearing a beautiful suit that matched the colors and designs of your dress.

Beomgyu felt his breath faltering when you leaned closer and carelessly reached out a hand to touch his hair, your face closer to his than he had ever imagined― beauty, he dared to think.

“It suits you so well” you complimented him, letting go of the strand of hair and putting some distance again, oblivious to the way the mage regained his breath as you did that. Beomgyu forced himself to regain some composure, kneeling slightly in front of you, taking you by surprise as it was something he had never done before, and offering his hand for you to take; moving closer both of your hands to his face and placing a delicate kiss on your knuckles as he looked up.

“You look… beautiful” he said as he straightened up, his hand lowering but not letting go of yours, instead giving you a light squeeze. You thanked him, your smile only growing bigger at his compliment and he had to force himself to look away, clearing his throat once more and directing your hand to grab on his arm. “Ready?”

As Beomgyu and you walked down the hall and the muttering of people became louder and louder, so did the panging of your heart anxiously beating on your chest and the mage next to you, as the meticulous observer he was, realized it. “I can hear your brain working, Bambi, relax.”

You laughed nervously as you looked up at the man escorting you. “Sorry, just a little nervous, never had done something like this before.”

“You shouldn’t be nervous, you have me as a partner” he replied smuggly, making you scoff a little.

“You sound so cool” you joked, watching Beomgyu’s lips curling up in a sly smile.

“I am cool.”

Beomgyu and you made your way into the big, completely transformed ball room, shining brighter as ever, and you fighting against your urge to turn around and run away as you felt all ― absolutely all the eyes on the both of you; heads turning in your direction and conversations stopping abruptly to take a better look at whoever was that young girl escorted by the most prestigious mage of the kingdom.

“See?” muttered Beomgyu quietly only for you to hear as he led the two of you to a corner to patiently wait for the main characters of the night to arrive, grabbing two cups filled with sparkling water from a butler walking around with a tray filled with it and offering you one. “Not as bad as you thought, uh?”

You simple nodded and sipped some of the alcohol in your glass, your eyes looking around curiously; rich people party is what you thought as you quietly analyzed their clothes, their jewels, their mannerisms, their judgy stares towards you. What were you doing in that place? You didn’t belong to this world, clearly.

Your thoughts were cut off by the loud trumpets booming all over the ballroom, everyone’s attention shifting to the principal entrance’s door that were opening only to reveal two big figures with strong auras walking inside, crossing the middle of the ballroom under everyone’s eyes until they reached their seats on the throne; behind them walked alone a man of great height and port, polite smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes.

Soobin stood next to his father whose big smile seemed to radiate light, a cup filled with wine being raised in his hand and his free hand on his son’s shoulder, patting him tenderly for everyone to see. What the King was saying didn’t even reach your ears; your mind went immediately numb the second the pair of dark eyes met yours across the room, shining brighter at the sight of you before they shamelessly trailed down to your dress, his eyebrows slightly twitching and his adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped down.

“… For the safety return of this Kingdom’s beloved crown prince, cheers!” “Cheers!”

Soobin didn’t move his eyes away from your for a second, nor when he drank from his own cup or when his father indicated him to seat on his throne or when Beomgyu caught your attention by pulling away your empty cup and gently grabbed your hand, silently asking you to dance; the prince inhaled sharply, straightening his back against his throne backrest, his lips inevitably curling down as he watched Beomgyu place one of his hand on the spot in your waist, pulling you closer to him and smirking smugly at you, muttering something on your ear that had you laughing softly as you reached your own hand to hold his.

And the way― the way you looked tonight, you were incredibly stunning, shining like a jewel yourself and Soobin had to grab tightly onto the armrest of the throne to stop himself from standing up and stealing you away from his friend and from everybody else in the room whose eyes lingered on you longer than he ever wanted.

“Y/n…” muttered Beomgyu under gritted teeth, the hand on your waist tightening, making you gulp nervously. “Did you just stomp on my feet? I thought Soobin did teach you how to dance.”

“Sorry, sorry, heh” you laughed nervously, feeling your cheeks warm; Beomgyu, of course, was a good dancer too and lead you perfectly well through the dance floor but his style was quite different to the one you were used to, which was Soobin’s. “Did I hurt you?”

Scoffing, Beomgyu replied. “Well, obviously not, you are so light you couldn’t even hurt a fly if you step on it.”

“I don’t think that’s- “I am trying to say that you can stomp on my feet if you need to, Bambi” “Thanks.”

Two full songs went on successfully with you and Beomgyu dancing around the ballroom, muttering some sorrys in between as you continued to step on him, and him ever so slightly making fun of you for it, liking the way you huffed in embarrassment and looked away. After a third song you accepted Beomgyu’s offer to take a small break and have something to eat and the two of you walked out of the dancefloor, heading to where the big buffet displayed for everyone to have a blast.

You were too caught on the deliciously looking sweets in front of you, debating on which to try first to even be able to notice the way Beomgyu tensed and froze on his place, head snapping to a side, sight sharpening as he felt something that shouldn’t be around.

“Listen Bambi, there is something I need to take care of, I will be right back, okay?” Beomgyu’s eyes didn’t see the curious look you gave him before walking away, disappearing from your sight.

You paid him no mind as you reassumed your arduous job of filling a little porcelain plate with sweets, the tip of your tongue in between your lips as you carefully picked one by one, your eyebrows frowning when you were about to pick up the last of a kind and it was suddenly grabbed by another hand. Looking up, you were met by an amused stare already on you, lips stretched into a silky smile and the sweet― your sweet being held in front of your eyes.

“Oh, I am so sorry, my lady, did you want this?” the man asked referring to the sweet, you nodded. “Would it be improper of me to suggest trading this sweet for a dance with my lady?”

You looked around trying to spot the figure of Beomgyu anywhere near, sighing in defeat as you saw him nowhere around and looking back at the man in front of you, waiting for a response. “… I don’t even know you.”

“How rude of me” the man kneeled in front of you and held his hand for you to grab it, which you hesitantly did, regretting it immediately as he placed his lips on your knuckles for a little too long. “I am prince Jaehyun from the Third Kingdom; may I know the name a princess such as yourself ports?”

Pulling your hand away and wiping it on the cloth of your dress with no dissimulation, you replied trying to control your facial expression as you stated your name.

“Such a beautiful name! Would my lady make me the honor of sharing a dance with me?”

“Sorry but she has promised me a dance.”

A large and strong back blocked your view completely; taking a few steps back involuntarily, you looked in surprise at the prince standing in front of you, his back towards you as he stood tall in front of the man whose eyes widened and smile fell from his face in a second, kneeling immediately at the sight of the crown prince.

“Your Highness crown prince Soobin” greeted the man, head low for a few long seconds until Soobin told him to stand up. “It’s an honor.”

“I am sure you wouldn’t mind if I take what’s mine now, won’t you?” stated the prince, bitter smile on his lips as he looked down at the man in front of his shaking his head quickly. Without even letting him speak another word, Soobin turned around on his heels, his smile widening once he connected eyes with you and he so charmingly held out his hand for you to take it. “May I have this dance?”

The plate in your hand shook slightly catching both of your attentions; Soobin took it from you and gently put it away, before scooping in his hand under yours and lead you back to the dancefloor. Well, shit if you thought you had received some looks when you and Beomgyu arrived it was nothing compared to the amount of stares now that Soobin was the one at your side and while you felt ever so tiny under so many judgmental eyes, Soobin seemed to shine even brighter, not paying any mind to the others and just carefully stopping in the middle of the ballroom, his hand gently grabbing your waist, his tender touch contrasting the intensity of his eyes on you.

“You look gorgeous” he told you as he began leading you at the rhythm of the music, his breath fanning over your face as he leaned closer. “Too gorgeous” he added, a bittersweetness in his voice that caught you a little off guard.

“Why do you look so mad?” you asked softly, squeezing his hand on yours and knitting your eyebrows in confusion. “Did something bad happen?”

“Everyone here wants you” he muttered under gritted teeth, nose wrinkling a little as he flicked his eyes around just for a second before they were back on you; Soobin pulled away a little and guided to you do a little spin, releasing the hold on your waist just for a second as you spun, catching you immediately back and pulling you closer to his chest, your cheeks burning as his tongue twirled over his lips and leaned closer to your ear. “But they can’t have what is mine, right?”

The low growl from the prince on your ear had your face flushing vivid red; his eyes lingered on your lips as they opened to try and say something, nothing coming out of it making him smirk; how bad did he want to kiss you right now in front of everyone else to make them understand that they shouldn’t even imagine putting a single finger on you or else.

But Soobin can’t do that there in the middle of everybody, in front of the King and Queen of the Kingdom whose eyes are fixated on the both of you, half intrigued half astonished; so instead the prince drags you out of the ballroom once the song finishes and guides you down the endless halls of the castle, pushing open a random door to an empty room and pushing you against the wood of it once it closed on your back.

Before you could react, his lips were over yours, moving in need and hunger, so desperately his tongue lapping on your parted lips before sneaking inside your mouth, groaning at the addicting taste of you; his hands that were first placed besides each side of your head now sliding up and down your body, grabbing and squeezing everything he can in his way, making you whine pathetically against him.

“Can’t stand it” he mumbled pulling away from your lips only to slid them down to your neck, his body pressing hard against yours as he kissed and bit and licked, his hands steadying on your hips and gripping them, making the silk of your dress slid up only a little from his roughness. “I hate that they think they can have you, ha! They should know better than that.”

You gasp when you feel one of his hands sliding down under your thigh to lift it up and wrap it around his waist, pushing up your dress even more; your hands moved up to clasp his hair in between your fingers, your head falling against the wood behind you. “You’re more possessive than I gave you credit for, bunny” the petname had the prince thrusting harsh against you, making you let out a soft whine while tugging at his roots.

“I can’t help it, y/n” he groaned as he slid down from your neck to your collarbone and inhaled sharply the scent of you that had his mind crazy before placing soft kisses down the invisible path to your chest, nibbling at your tits over your cloth. “Never had felt his before, never felt this fear of losing something from me” his eyes flicked up as he nibbled meaningly against one of your nipples, making you gasp yearning from more.

“You can’t lose me” you mumbled, looking mesmerized at the boy lapping yearningly your chest over your dress with his eyes fixated on yours; you felt the smirk forming on his lips at your words.

“Right? Because you are mine?” he questioned as he moved further down, placing a last kiss on your breasts before nibbling at your stomach, the sensation making your breath flinch. You hummed in agreement but that wasn’t enough for the prince. “Words, pretty, use your mouth.”

The leg that once was around his waist was now being moved by him over his shoulder as he got down on a knee, his nose moving down on your stomach till your pelvic bone, his eyebrows furrowing as the scent of you became stronger and got him drunk on you.

“Y-yeah” you muttered shakily as you felt his hot breath fanning over your entrance while his hands slid down under your dress and pulled it up; his eyes not moving an inch away from your reaction. “I’m yours, Soobin, all yours.”

The prince almost moaned at your words; licking his lips eagerly, he pulled the skirt of your dress over his head and slid under it, his fingers grabbing the cloth of your panties and pulling them down to your ankles. A loud moan came out of your lips when Soobin pressed down his mouth against your pussy, himself groaning out loud at the taste of your juices, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lapped against it like a dog, collecting everything he could on his tongue― so fucking sweet.

“Wa-wait Soobin- fuck, slow d-down” you whined breathlessly as you felt Soobin’s tongue working feverishly on you, trying to pull him away from your abused core by the hold on his hair; the prince huffed in annoyance at your intents and only sank further in you, growling a low no as he continued tongue-fucking you.

Soobin ate you out like he was some kind of starved man, groaning needily whenever your hips jolted against his face, his nose and chin drenched in you; he wasn’t going to fucking slow down, he wanted you to fall apart on his tongue, the mere thought of you cumming just by the muscle of his mouth numbing his mind and going feral underneath you. His devilish pace only worsened as he heard you getting louder announcing your climax; the prince groaned loudly as you pulled meanly from his hair while your hips rubbed against his face, your hot cum falling all over his mouth, dirty slurping sounds from underneath you reaching your ears as Soobin took over the job of licking you clean.

You breathed in and out deeply as you watched the prince appeared from under your skirt, after putting back on their place your panties, straightening the skirt of your dress and standing up, cupping your face in between his hands to connected his lips with yours, tasting yourself on his mouth, making you groan against him. His kisses became calmer and tender, thumbs caressing your cheeks before he pulled away, placing his forehead on yours.

“… Sorry” he mumbled a little ashamed but deep down satisfies with himself. You pecked his lips in response, making a soft smile appear on his pretty swollen lips. “So perfect.”

The both of you stood there a little longer catching your breath with a few kisses in between; you smiled softly as you help the prince tidy up his hair― the one you had been pulling and messing just minutes ago. Soobin let himself be tidy up by your gender touch, his eyes on you as you carefully straighten up his wrinkled clothes, his heart beating as loud as ever against his chest.

The intimacy of the moment, sadly, didn’t last too long. The loud knocks on the other side of the door got the two of you startled and, just in time as you stood back from it, the doors were flying open. Beomgyu panted loudly as he got inside the room, wild eyes fixated on you as he got closer.

“Beomgyu, what happened?” questioned Soobin, hugging your waist with his arm and pressing you closer to his chest. The mage ignored the act and grabbed your shoulders, pulling you away from the prince.

“You need to get out of here” he said hurriedly, ignoring the calls and demands of the prince on his back, his brown and tired eyes staring into yours.

“W-what?” you dumbly stumbled on your feet, grabbing his shirt for support as he continued to guide you to the doors. “Beomgyu, stop! What’s wrong?”

“Should have sent you back sooner but I just- I couldn’t. It’s my fault” he rambled as he guided to down the hall and out of the castle’s walls. Soobin followed closely behind; his words being completely ignored by the frantic mage. “I got too attached, too weak, too blind; he’s been here all along- fuck. I need to send you back, y/n.”

The realization fell upon you like a bucket of cold water. Beomgyu only stopped in his tracks when you reached the castle garden and, without wasting any more time, he fell to his knees and begun enchanting some words in a language you couldn’t decipher, that you hadn’t ever heard, not even during your magic lessons.

Soobin reached you in no time, stopping at your side and hugging you closer to him as he realized what was happening; Beomgyu’s aura became clearer and clearer to the eye and the air felt electrifying, making your skin get goosebumps all over.

“Tic tac, little princess.”

The familiar, disgusting, feeling of something slimy and wet touching your skin got you gasping in no second; the long and thick black tentacles were back and they snaked around your waist tightly, stealing the air out of you as they lifted up in the air. Your eyes met the half bored half amused blue eyes of the dark mage floating in the air, a tiny smile spreading on his lips as he drank up your expression.

“Long time no see, princess” he said, mockery in his voice. “Got the chance to spot you that fun day in town, we had so much fun, remember?”

“So, you were there!” you exclaimed, a shaky finger pointing accusatory to the man in front of you. “Are you some kind of stalker or something, man?” God, you hated it― you and your lousy mouth in the worst times.

Kai’s lips turned down. “I see that not even the castle’s discipline could win over you, uh? Guess you are one like me! Hehehe!” His loud, ear numbing laugh made you wince― not for so long before a loud growl came of his lips, his eyes going feral as he looked down to the floor.

Beomgyu was done with the enchanting― there was a large pitch-black hole on the floor. Now the mage was taking over the job of blasting away the annoying little tentacles of the dark mage with fire coming out of his hands, mumbling incoherences under his breath as his eyes were furrowed in annoyance.

“Such a pain in the ass, this one” you heard Kai saying to himself. “Say, little princess, should I just suck the life out of your body and have this over with?”

“Uh…” you blinked a few times at the question. “Well, I really would appreciate if you didn’t.”

“Boomer” Kai sighed and rolled his eyes before a mad smile spread on his face. “Good thing I get to decide things here. Why don’t I give you a fun ride while I take care of your little boyfriends down there?”

“They aren’t my boyfri-“ your words were cut off when so suddenly you were being lifted up in the air by the tentacle’s hold in your waist, reaching as high as they could in the sky; time froze as they suddenly stopped in mid-air for a second, you being able to spot the lights of the castles very far away from the ground before the tentacles were letting go of you.

There were little moments in your life where you had felt the real fear, horror, terror; for example, when you were very little, still very innocent in life and you were forced to abandoned your so precious childhood to face the real world before you, you parents were gone, you had no other relatives around or that you knew of, you were alone. Or, at first, that was what you thought before Granny and Yeonjun appeared to save you from your pitch-black hole.

There was also that time in high school days when Yeonjun had forced you to go with him to that new amusement park after school, which you thought was an incredible idea at first. You had blast, rode a lot of fun games and won against your best friend in those cute little stands of ‘knock out the pile of bottles and win a plushie!’. It was a great day until Yeonjun convinced you to ride on the first cart of the rollercoaster. Sometimes, if you recalled the memory in detail, you still could feel the pain in your throat from the intense screaming that came out of you and the way your heart fell from your stomach.

Since that day you started developing some kind of fear to heights.

And just like that day, a loud and painful scream came from the very back of your throat as you free-fell from God knows how many meters tall.

“Beomgyu!” screamed Soobin as his eyes were glued to the tiny figure falling from the sky, the loud scream from you erupting in the air making his heart stop.

The mage grunted as he rolled away from the sharp attack of the dark mage’s tentacles. Jumping and avoiding any kind of grip it could have on him, while trying to blast the damn thing with his magic. God, how he hated those things― they were ugly, they were gross and they were a pain in the ass.

From the corner of his eyes, he caught the sight of you falling at incredible speed from the sky. Kai giggled loudly as he tried to use the little distraction of you to caught his enemy, but Beomgyu knew the other man well― too well for his own good, and as the dark mage tried to strike another deadly hit on Beomgyu, he was quick to stop it and blast the tentacle away, teleporting immediately to the back of Kai, striking a hard hit on the back of his head while kicking his legs, making him fall to the ground.

Beomgyu’s eyes flicked to the sky once more and waisted no time before teleporting himself to you, in the middle of the air, wincing at the sharpness of your panicked scream before tangling his arms around your body, trying to shush you and calm you down which was fairly quite difficult. As soon as you were firmly in his arms, Beomgyu teleported you both to the ground, a few feet away from the intimidatingly big and black hole he had opened for you.

Once the arms around you pulled away, you fell on your knees, hands pressing against the ground as you took deep and shaky breaths. Beomgyu went back to the dark mage that was rushing towards the both of you, trying to get him away from you as much as possible, screaming something over the loud noise of blasting magic for you that didn’t reach your ears.

“Get her out of here!”

Soobin rushed towards you, helping you get up and forcing you to take some steps; you following blindly, only snapping out of the shock when half of your feet were hanging from the portal on the ground. You tried to jump away, but Soobin got you on your place tightly. Wincing, you turned your head to him, eyes filled with tears and lips trembling as you tried to plead for him to not let go of you.

The prince reprimed his urge to cry, at least in front of you, as his hands squeezed the sight of your arms; his breath shaking as he inhaled deeply to say the next words: “You need to leave.”

“No.” “Yes, it’s not safe for here anymore.” “Soobin, I can’t-“

The prince whined in agony as he forced you to turn around, the shouting of Beomgyu behind him telling him to hurry, yet his hands moved up to your face and crashed his lips against yours messily, drinking in the soft cries of you as you reciprocated, feeling his face wet either from your tears or his, he didn’t know. Pressing his forehead against yours, he planted a last, soft and tender kiss on your lips before whispering against them I love you.

And then you were pushed into the black hole in your back, your hands trying to grasp the hold of the prince, screaming in panic as the nothingness consumed you.

-

“Hey, baby, how are you feeling?” Yeonjun knocked softly on your door before pushing it open with his shoulder, tray with food on his hand and a soft yet worried smile on his face. You smiled back and sat down on your bed, looking down at the plate of ramen he brought, probably made by Granny out there in the kitchen, thanking him for it.

It had been barely a week since you came back, yet it felt like years. Since you were able to reach Yeonjun, he and Granny had decided to move in with you in your previous complex, the ceiling already fixed. Neither of them had left your side since then, taking care of you with meals made with love, hugs, shoulders to cry onto and a lot of patience as they listen to you when you needed to let go of everything― the last one being mostly Yeonjun, who knew the truth to it all.

“Did you get some sleep?” he asked softly as you eat the steaming noodles, reaching out his hand to caress your head tenderly.

“Barely” you replied, sighing. “Still got a lot of nightmares.” Yeonjun eyebrows knitted in worry. “But I’ll get over it with time, I guess.” I hope is that you truly wanted to say, but for the sake of your friend’s worry you decided to keep it in.

“Of course,” he agreed, tucking the little strands of hair behind your ear. “What do you say if we go out today? Maybe a walk will be good to clear your mind. You can get a shower and I’ll pick up some real nice clothes for you, mh?”

If you had to be honest, you didn’t want to get out. You didn’t even want to get up from your bed, but you knew Yeonjun was trying to help you the best he could, so you agreed to it and thanked him when he took the tray with the empty bowl from you back to the kitchen, leaving you alone to get into the shower.

Spring arrived and everything around you bloomed, beautiful flowers and the trees porting themselves beautifully as you and Yeonjun walked down the streets, eating the ice creams he had bought for the both of you, him talking about things that didn’t really reach you. Point for him, taking in some fresh air did help you feel a little lighter, but your mind― that was something you couldn’t shut down.

“… And so, me and Taehyun are the only ones who made it into the contest” Yeonjun smiled, finishing his story and looking down at you, only realizing you were somewhere else, your eyes glued to the flowers blooming from the trees over your heads, your eyes lost in thoughts. He sighed and finished his ice cream quickly, hiding the pout on his lips even thought you weren’t going to notice it either way.

Shyly, he pulled from the sleeve on your shirt, catching your attention, and pointed back to the convenience store standing on his back. “I need to get some things for Gran real quick, you wanna come or you prefer to wait here?” You opted for the second one, pointing to an empty bench a few feet away. “Okay baby, be right back.”

You watched silently, from the seat on your bench, to the world around you. Spring brought more color to the city surrounding you, people seemed livelier, laughing and spending their times with their loved ones. And you were supposed to be like them, but your heart ached whenever it was awake― the reminiscence of the prince flooding your mind, his last words, his last kiss.

You forced yourself to snap out of it again, shaking your head and inhaling deeply, trying to lose the knot in your throat. You needed to get over it, over him but, was that what you really wanted? To forget everything? To forget Soobin?

“Hello there” you had been so caught up in your thoughts, so buried in your mind, that you had failed to notice the person taking the seat next to you, so when they suddenly spoke and got you out of your head, you were startled.

More startled you were when your eyes met a pair of unforgivable ones, already staring into yours nervously, his familiar lips stretching into a shy smile. You blinked one, two, three times, as if you were hoping the image to fade away like it was some kind of hallucination, but it didn’t.

Your lips trembled and you sobbed audible, not even having the force to try and suppress it, making the man in front of you flinch in surprise. Soobin leaned in and cupped your face, quickly wiping away the running tears down your face, his eyebrows knitting in worry as he scanned your painful expression.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled, pulling you to his chest and hugging you, warm covering your body as you continued to cry on his shoulder, his hands caressing your back, his own voice faltering as he spoke. “I’m sorry, I missed you, I’m here, I love you.”

I’m sorry, I missed you, I’m here, I love you.

[paucubarsisimp]

Pablo Torre and the reader make a Tiktok trend where the reader calls Pablo's friends and parents to see if they would cover up a cheating or infidelity for Pablo.

Ex: the reader calls Pablo's mother and asks her if he is at home, that she has been calling him and he has not answered and the last thing he said was that he was going to his parents' house for dinner.

And likewise with his classmates, the surprise is that none of them would cover up something like that to Pablo and some even call him and write to him very upset to ask him where he is and who he is with and if he is cheating on the reader or not.

cheating prank

pairing: pablo torre x reader

summary: in which you test pablo's family and friends to see if they would cover for him cheating

warnings: none!

a/n: im sick :(

it started as a joke. one of those viral trends you’d seen floating around online. call your boyfriend’s friends and family, pretend you think he’s cheating, and see if they’d cover for him.

pablo was half-asleep on the couch when you brought it up.

“you’re chaotic,” he mumbled, eyes still closed.

“you’re not curious?”

he opened one eye. “not even a little. they like you too much. i’d get exposed in under ten seconds.”

you grinned. “let’s test it.”

he groaned dramatically but didn’t protest. “fine. go ahead. ruin my peace.”

you started with his mom.

you put the phone on speaker and cleared your throat.

“hola, señora torre,” you said sweetly. “sorry for bothering you. is pablo with you right now?”

she paused. “no, cariño. i haven’t seen him today. why?”

“he said he was going to have dinner with you, but he hasn’t answered my calls in hours…”

her tone changed immediately—concern sharpening her words. “no, he didn’t say anything about dinner. are you alright? do you want me to call him? maybe he lost his phone—”

you rushed to stop her. “no, no, it’s okay. just checking.”

you hung up and turned to pablo. “she passed.”

his phone buzzed within seconds. mamá calling.

he let out a heavy sigh. “i am never hearing the end of this.”

next, you called alejandro. pablo sat up straighter, suddenly alert.

“hola?” alejandro picked up after two rings.

“hey,” you said casually. “just wondering—is pablo with you?”

“what?” he sounded confused. “no, i haven’t seen him since practice. why? is something wrong?”

“he said he was going to your place, but he’s not answering.”

immediately, alejandro got serious. “do you want me to call him? should i come over? wait—is he cheating on you? what the hell?”

you choked on a laugh, trying to stay in character. “i don’t know. probably not. i was just checking.”

“call him again. and if he doesn’t answer, i’m texting him. this is shady.”

you hung up, and pablo’s phone lit up with messages

bro answer the phone now

she just called me—what is going on

you better not be doing something stupid

“he’s spiraling,” pablo muttered. “i can feel it.”

you smiled. “they love me.”

“they’re terrified of you.”

the last call was to a mutual friend. someone you both knew well—someone who, if anyone, might be tempted to lie.

you hit call and put it on speaker.

“hey,” they answered. “what’s up?”

“quick question,” you said, keeping your voice casual. “pablo said he was heading to yours tonight. is he there?”

a pause. then, hesitant: “um… yeah. yeah, he’s in the bathroom.”

you raised an eyebrow. pablo looked up at the ceiling.

“really?” you said, already smiling. “because he’s sitting right next to me.”

your friend let out a sigh. “okay, yeah. no way. i tried. i give up. i’m not getting involved in this. i value my life.”

pablo laughed. “coward.”

“smart coward,” they replied. “you’re on your own, bro.”

later that night, lying next to pablo in bed, you replayed the whole thing on your phone, still grinning.

“not a single one of them lied for you,” you said, smug.

pablo stared at the ceiling. “i have no allies.”

you kissed his cheek. “that’s because they’re all on my side.”

“i know,” he mumbled. “i could disappear for an hour and they’d start printing missing posters just to hand them to you.”

you curled up closer, proud. “they just care about me.”

he groaned. “i need new friends.”

“you can’t. they like me more.”

“unbelievable,” he muttered, but didn’t pull away.

taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @nngkay, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, @hollyf1,@mxryxmfooty, @halfwayhearted lmk if you want to be added!

[divinefailurre]

and did the twin flame bruise paint you blue?

'just between us, did the love affair maim you too?'

theodore nott x reader

this is my first tumblr fic, hi everyone! i hope you like it! this is loosely based off of the notebook movie, but not everything is the same. i imagined reader to be like noah and theo to be like allie...but you'll see. the ending is lowkey rushed, and it's not fully proofread (i'm so sorry).

warnings: none? maybe angst and some cussing?

word count: 8.6k

snow cascaded down from the heavens all around you, the frozen air it brought with it chilling your whole body. you tightened your hold on the coat you wore, crossing your arms to shield your hands from the air. living in the states had changed you, making you more susceptible to the cold…you hated it.

as you strode down the london pavement, your eyes darted around the city that seemed to have changed so much in such a short time. buildings were taller, people were busier, and the constant construction was enough to drive you mad. 

where had all the time gone?

you sighed, trying so desperately to shove down the feelings of guilt and regret that always surfaced when you thought about the past. things were so different now.

finally making it to the bus stop, you stood under the shaded bus shelter, trying not to make eye contact with passing pedestrians. the christmas lights scattered all throughout the city caught your eye though, their blinking colors doing little to warm your soul. 

one place caught your eye.

if you’d have remembered this specific place was right where you’d be walking past, you’d have chosen to cross town instead. but here you are, standing across the street from a little pub that was decorated for christmas, the decorated tree catching your eye through the window. 

“you’re telling me you’ve never been to a muggle pub?” you’d questioned, pulling your boyfriend through the door of a small london pub. he chuckled behind you, his grip tightening around your hand as you both weaved through the crowd, trying to find an open table.

“not once,” theodore nott replied, his voice standing out in the loud room, despite him speaking quietly. “why, is there something special about a place that doesn’t serve firewhiskey?”

“absolutely!” you chirped, sitting down at a small booth. it was in the very back of the bar, with only one low-hanging lamp to provide you with any light. theodore slid into the booth next to you, pulling his hand out of your grip so he could throw his arm around your shoulder.

you’d had boyfriends before, but never like theo. he was kind, attentive, and quiet in the best way possible. he was witty, constantly cracking you up with his jokes or sarcastic comments. and boy, was he handsome. you let your eyes wander over his face as you sat in the booth with him, your gaze flitting from his eyes, to his lips, to his cheeks that you loved to kiss.

“così carina,” theo purred, bumping you with his nose. you giggled, leaning forward so he could kiss your cheek. “così bella, così dolce…” every compliment he punctuated with a kiss to your cheek, your jaw, your neck.

normally you’d be self-conscious, not wanting to exhibit too much pda, but you knew this pub. you knew the people who owned it, the people who frequented it, and you knew none of them were looking or even cared. more than that, something inside of you didn’t care anymore. 

the two of you had ordered some beer, and continued to sit for hours, just talking and laughing. theo especially loved people-watching. whenever you two were out, he loved to make a game out of guessing people’s lives, almost making them characters in a little book in his head. 

“see that guy?” theo had asked, whispering in your ear as he pointed across the pub. “the one with the mohawk? he’s for sure in a rock band, but he’s skipping practice because the lead singer’s pissing him off. look! he’s going on and on about something that seems infuriating, so i’m right!” 

you laughed every time he made up these stories, but you listened intently every time. there was something about the way theo talked that pulled you in, making everything else seem hazy. theo’s eyes never strayed from yours, save for once when he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. your eyes fluttered shut, returning to kiss with equal fervor, resting your hands on the sides of his neck. 

the honk of the bus was what pulled you out of the memory. you shook your head, breaking your gaze from the pub, where the lights seemed to flicker theo’s name in morse code. you sighed, feeling the cold return to your body once more. your lips burnt, as if theo’s lips had set them aflame, and just the memory of him was able to reignite them.

the bus driver smiled at you as you stepped in the vehicle, pulling yourself up the stairs and down the aisle. the bus was almost completely full, but you were able to find a lone seat at the very end of the row. slinking low in your seat, you let your head fall against the window, watching as the bus drove past the pub and down the busy road.

the bus dropped you off a few blocks from your parents’ street, and you continued your trek across the city. the snow had finally let up, but the grey skies still held back the sun. you were sure your nose was about to fall off from the winter chill, though. your steps were light, almost cautious as you turned onto your parents’ road.

you finally reached your parents’ front door. the terraced house was old, its red brick slowly weathering down into a greenish color, the window shutters that were once white are now a dark grey. it’d been five years since you’d been back, and the house you once called home now looked like it was inhabited by strangers. taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

your mother was the first to greet you. she grinned, pulling you in the house by your backpack straps, causing a chuckle to escape your lips. she wrapped you in her arms, swinging you around while your father watched from the hallway.

“how come you never visit, dove?” your mother jokingly scolded, swatting your arm as she led you to the kitchen, where your brother and father were waiting to greet you.

“she doesn’t wanna run into theo,” your brother said, trying and failing to tease you. your eyebrows shot up, your cheeks heating up at your brother’s accusation, which was one hundred percent true.

“not true,” you lied, narrowing your eyes. “besides, he’s probably never in town.”

“i just saw him a few weeks ago,” your father said quietly, wincing as soon as the sentence left his mouth, as if he knew he shouldn’t have said anything. 

“oh,” was all you could say back. 

silence followed, your mom wringing her hands and shooting your father a nasty look in the meantime. you glanced down at the kitchen table, finding a large plate full of christmas cookies on the counter. the cookies were all cut into christmas shapes; trees, mittens, snowflakes, even snowmen. your mom had really tried her best to make christmas happy for you again.

“can you pass me the frosting?” you asked theo, who was standing across the kitchen island, hogging all the cookie frosting. his brows were furrowed as he held a cookie up close to his face, trying to use the blue frosting to make a snowflake on top. 

“gimme a minute,” theo murmured, all his focus on trying to pipe a straight line onto the cookie. you smiled, tilting your head as you watched him. ever since theo’s mother passed away when he was twelve, theo nor his father celebrated christmas. it just seemed unnecessary, since the one person that truly loved christmas was gone. 

you were so happy when your mother asked theo to stay over to frost cookies. at first, your boyfriend was hesitant. he had been about to pull on his coat and step outside, but your mother begged him to stay. theo glanced at you, then your mother, then back at you. finally, he agreed, and it seemed like he was really enjoying himself. 

“i love you,” you said quietly. theo paused his frosting, his cheeks turning pink as he finally looked up from his work, his eyes wide as they watched you. a moment passed, silence filling the room. you were instantly embarrassed, glancing down at the table to avoid his gaze.

theo dropped everything he was holding and slowly moved around the counter, slipping one arm around your waist and using the other hand to tilt your chin up towards him.

“you love me?” he asked, as if he hadn’t heard you the first time. you nodded, intoxicated by the feeling of him so close. his nose bumped yours as he leaned in, capturing your lips with his. normally he kissed you roughly, or strongly, or full of desire, but this kiss was soft. his mouth explored yours in the gentlest of touches, making you melt your body into him. theo pulled away, his blue-grey eyes darting around your face.

“i love you, too,” theo murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “ti amo così tanto.”

“dinner is at six,” your mother announced, breaking you out of your second hazy memory of the day. hopefully you could get through dinner without another one. nodding, you carried yourself across the kitchen and down the hall towards the stairs.

you trudged up the stairs, trying hard to avoid looking at the pictures hanging on the wall. almost all of them contained pictures of you when you were younger, and you were sure your mother still had that one picture of you and theo in front of the christmas tree still up. if you saw that picture you’d spontaneously combust.

finally, you crossed the threshold of your childhood bedroom. it was as if you’d walked straight into a memory. the walls were still a soft beige, though the posters plastered all over covered up most of the paint. your desk was still cluttered with books and paints and anything else that had no specific place. your bookshelves were overfilled with your favorite books from adolescence, containing titles like Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Lord of the Rings. 

despite being a witch, you were born to a muggle family, and therefore kept your muggle lifestyle. when you were a teenager, every summer you came back home it was like you weren’t a witch at all. you weren’t allowed to use magic, of course, and your parents weren’t magical, so life just went back to normal for a few short months every year. 

as you shrugged off your coat, you glanced in the mirror across the room. your hair was frizzy and wet from the snow, your eyes were tired, and your complexion was the opposite of bright and clear. rolling your eyes, you pulled your scarf off your neck and flopped on your bed. 

your mother let you miss dinner. 

when you woke up the next morning, which was christmas eve, you immediately felt horrible. your first time back to visit in five years, and you couldn’t even stay awake long enough to eat with your family. 

your parents smiled as you entered the kitchen, your mother silently handing you a hot mug of coffee. you smiled in thanks, slipping into the chair next to your father, who leaned over to press a kiss to your head.

“what’re you doing today?” your mother asked, flipping the page of her magazine. “we’re not eating until seven, and your brother wants to watch that one movie we watch every year.”

“it’s called Scrooged!” your brother bellowed from the other room. you chuckled as you took a sip of your coffee.

“we watch it every year,” your father muttered.

“i’m surprised you still allow it,” you replied, trying to hide your smile. “if i was here every year, i’m sure i’d cause a fit.”

“well, we wish you were here every year,” your mother said solemnly. “then maybe someone would stand up to that brother of yours!” 

you appreciated your mother’s way of diverting the topic. to be honest, you were disappointed in yourself for staying away so long, but if this trip back home proved anything, it was that you weren’t ready to be back. 

“i think i’m gonna head to town soon,” you said, ignoring the solemn air that filled the kitchen. “i’ve got a few last minute things to get, and cassie is expecting me to meet her for coffee.”

“oh, that’ll be fun!” your mother exclaimed. “please tell her i say hello. oh, how i miss that girl!” 

cassie had been your best friend since childhood. she was a muggle, but that didn’t stop you two from being friends after you left for hogwarts. every week, you sent letters back and forth, catching each other up on your separate lives. it took her awhile to get used to an owl showing up at her window, but once she got to know atticus, your beautiful great horned owl, she loved seeing him.

after finishing a lovely breakfast with soft conversation, you got ready for your excursion back into the heart of london. you loved the city, you truly did, you just hated the memories it held. the past it brought back to the surface was almost too much to bear.

you got ready quickly, not being one to care much about appearances anymore. your hair fell in a singular braid down your back, tucked under a small hat to keep your ears warm. this particular hat had been knitted by your grandmother when you were young, so it was a bit snug, but you loved it all the same. 

“i’ll be home by six!” you exclaimed, waving goodbye to your family. your mother wished you safe travels, your brother teasingly flipped you off, and your father scolded him as you shut the door. your family always had a way of lifting your spirits without even trying. 

as you shopped in town, you popped your earbuds in, trying desperately to tune out the hustle and bustle of the christmas eve shoppers around you. you surprisingly found everything you needed and left quickly, wanting to get to the coffee shop before cassie so you could surprise her with her gift. 

you accidentally walked past the pub.

once again, you were in your own world, trying to juggle all the bags in your arms, when you accidentally bumped into a woman leaving the pub, causing you to become aware of your surroundings. you’d apologized, and she’d done the same, but once you realized where you were (for the second time in two days), your blood ran cold. 

you kept walking, quicker this time around, when you came across a for sale sign. it was just up the street from the pub, maybe two doors down, and it must have been an old flower shop because you could somewhat make out the faded letters on the door. you stood there a moment, peering in the windows, when a revelation almost knocked you out of your boots. 

new year’s eve, five years ago, you and theo spent a quiet night together, opting out of any parties your friends were throwing. you were curled up on the couch in his flat (well, his father’s flat that he stayed in when he had business in london), watching an old movie that theo had never seen before. theo wasn’t an avid movie-watcher, but he loved whenever you’d pick out a movie…just so you two could spend a night in together.

“what’s this called again?” theo asked, running his hands through your hair.

“it’s a wonderful life,” you hummed, leaning into his touch. “s’posed to be a christmas movie, but i like watching it around new year’s, too.”

“it’s good,” theo replied. you felt him sink lower into the couch, pulling you closer to him. “makes me think about the future.”

“oh yeah?”

you sat up, turning to face your boyfriend, whose face held a pensive expression as he watched the movie. he turned towards you when he noticed you watching him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“what?” he questioned. “something on my face?”

“no,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “you just don’t talk about the future a lot. it surprised me, i guess. so, what does mr. theodore nott see for himself in the future?”

theo smiled, his tired eyes hooked onto your lips, and he leaned forward to press a kiss onto them. while he distracted you, he pulled your body onto his lap so you’d straddle him. you inhaled quickly at the surprise.

“i see you,” theo said. “i see you and me. i marry you, we maybe have a little baby–”

“maybe we own a little bookshop! and we live upstairs with a little cat!” you added.

“very good, love, and we visit your parents for every holiday and we host dinner parties every week. maybe we–oh, what’s wrong?”

theo’s little monologue had simply brought you to tears. the two of you had been dating for awhile, but he’d never opened up to you this much. theo always had the bad habit of keeping things close to his heart, never letting someone in enough to know about the things that he thinks are important. 

“nothing’s wrong,” you said, letting him use his thumbs to wipe your tears away. “i just love hearing you talk. i love your idea of the future, of our future. i love it all, and i love you.”

“i love you, too,” theo murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss under your eye, effectively kissing your tears away.

tears stung your face as you reentered reality. you caught your own reflection staring back at yourself through the window, noticing how red your eyes and cheeks were. from the cold, or from crying, you wouldn’t know.

wiping your face, you took out a notepad from your purse and wrote down the number for the leasing office. it seemed as if everything you’d ever done was meant to lead you to this moment, this spot in london, this time. you were meant to see this empty building, to face the one memory you’d tried so hard to erase. you had gotten drunk one night a few years ago and almost obliviated it from your memory, but your friend was thankfully there to confiscate your wand.

you knew you had to buy this place. you knew you had to make a life for yourself. all you’d done for the past five years was run from who you were truly supposed to be, who you wanted yourself to be, and coming across this empty plot was proof of that. 

even if theo wasn’t in your life anymore, you were still going to complete your dream, even if part of it was supposed to include him. after all, the bookshop was originally your idea, so why should you let the idea of him hold you back?

as soon as you got home that night, you told your parents about your grand idea. both of them, while a bit hesitant, were ecstatic to hear that their child was finally moving back to london. they helped you figure out all the logistics on how to move back, how to contact the leasing office for the storefront, and all the other little things you had to get sorted out.

christmas came and went, and thankfully so. the holiday season left you with a sour taste in your mouth for the past five years (for obvious reasons), and you were eager to get started on your new project. you’d flown back to the states to collect your things and move out of the studio apartment you’d been (un)comfortably living in for the past few years. everything was going according to plan for once in your life.

after arriving back in london, you’d received a phone call that the storefront, along with the small apartment above it, were yours. as soon as you hung up the phone, you and your family jumped around the kitchen in sheer joy. even your younger brother, who wasn’t one for showing emotions, had to wipe away a tear at the fact that his sibling was back home for good. 

the month after, you were finally given the keys to the shop. your mother went with you to scout it out first, and you were both surprised when you saw it didn’t need much work. the floors were a nice hardwood, dark cherry in color, and the walls were painted a plain white. you could definitely tell it used to be a flower shop, as the earthy scent was still strong in the air. 

for the next six months, you worked on getting this shop in order. it was hard work, but it was fulfilling. after working meaningless jobs for the entirety of your adult life, it was nice to put your energy into something that would eventually pay off. 

your family often came by, offering their assistance in painting, making phone calls, ordering inventory. your brother in particular was especially helpful. almost every day after his university classes were finished, he came by the shop. it seemed that the work helped pull him out of whatever slump he was in, too.

once the renovations were finished, you started receiving your inventory. books by the dozens started showing up at your door, waiting to be unboxed and displayed on the tables you’d found at the antique shop. one morning, one book in particular stopped you in your tracks.

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” theo announced, thrusting the book into your hands. you had spent the afternoon hanging out around town, searching bookstores all day for what theo claimed to be the best shakespeare play of all time. you weren’t one for reading shakespeare, but apparently theo was, and he had very strong opinions on the topic.

now, the two of you were back at his flat, enjoying an espresso in the kitchen as theo performed a book haul for you (as if you weren’t there when he bought them). 

“why is this one your favorite?” you asked, taking the book out of his hands. you ran your hand over the front cover, which was blue and embellished with gold designs of two fairies in a tree.

“my mother read it to me as a child, and i used to think it was so clever. it’s like a medieval rom-com,” theo explained. “some of the lines are really profound, though. here, let me see.”

theo took the book out of your hands, flipping the pages to find what he was looking for. you watched his face brighten as he pointed to a certain line, most likely the one he was looking for. 

“‘ay me! for aught that i could ever read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth’,” theo read, his eyes flitting across the page. you smiled, nodding as he finished, looking up at you in admiration.

“i like it,” you said. “it’s true, too. the course of true love isn’t smooth at all.”

“no, it’s not,” theo replied. “but since it led me to you, i don’t care how bumpy it was.”

“come here, romeo,” you teased, tugging on theo’s shirt collar. he chuckled, leaning into your touch. you pressed your lips to his, and suddenly the whole world disappeared.

“it was actually lysander that said that, romeo isn’t in–”

“shut up.”

you decided to set up the book in the window display. somehow, when your brother was finding inventory, he’d found the same edition that theo had bought years ago, the same two fairies taunting you on the cover. despite that, it was still a beautiful play (one of your now-favorites), and it deserved to be displayed. 

“is something wrong with the books?” your brother asked from behind you. “you’ve been standing there for like five minutes.”

“no, no, they’re perfect,” you replied, setting the final copy on the table. “i was just reminiscing.”

“oh. okay. well, there’s some more boxes that just came that need your signature.”

you sighed, nodding that you’d heard him, and left the books in the display. opening day was going to be the next week, and you had a lot to do. you had no time to spend daydreaming, thinking about what once was.

finally, opening day had come. your whole body was jittering, so much so that you hadn’t allowed yourself a cup of coffee that morning. you’d put on your favorite dress outfit, long flowy pants and a matching button-up vest. you had blow dried your hair that morning, feeling the immense need to look presentable for the most important day of your new career.

opening day was a complete success. foot traffic was at an all-time high, as almost everyone that passed the new shop had stopped in the window, deciding to just take a peek. your brother worked the cash register, and was constantly busy with customers.

that afternoon, a woman from a london newspaper came in, claiming she’d caught wind of the new bookshop down the road, and just had to put it in the paper. it wouldn’t be front page, she assured you, but it’d be pretty close. 

when the newspaper had finally printed, you had a party to celebrate. a picture of you standing in front of your beautiful new bookshop was now in print, under the headline NEW LOCAL BOOKSHOP HAS A BOOMING OPENING DAY. your friend cassie had cut it out and framed it, giving it as a gift to hang on the wall behind the cash register. 

things were finally looking up for you. business remained steady, you were finally settled in your new apartment, and your thoughts of theo were becoming less and less frequent. you were finally growing into your own person, even though you wished you were growing with a certain someone.

one morning, however, fate decided to play a nasty trick on you. 

you were at the bookshop, handling the cash register while your brother unpacked new inventory in the back. there were a few customers browsing the shop, picking up books that might meet their fancy. you paid them no mind, maybe offering a suggestion or two if they asked. you knew how most people thought of shopping for books as a solitary experience. you didn’t look up from your papers until someone sat down a book on the counter in front of you.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

you looked up to be met with theodore nott two feet away from you. your eyes widened, your pulse quickening instantly. you genuinely couldn’t believe your eyes. you blinked rapidly, thinking your eyes were just blurry. no, this couldn’t be. theo shouldn’t be here. he should be across the country, or maybe across europe, in italy with his father. he shouldn’t be here.

“hello,” theo said quietly. you stood there, your body frozen. what were you supposed to do? do you say hi back? do you yell at him to get out? your breath escaped your lungs at the sound of his voice. every emotion and memory from that last night together came rushing back, hitting you square in the chest like a tidal wave. 

you were spending the night at theo’s father’s flat. you and theo had been dating almost seven months, and everything was pure bliss. even though it was somewhat a new relationship, you’d never felt more at home with someone, and you were certain he felt the same way. 

the both of you were sitting on the couch, about to turn on a movie, when theo’s father apparated into the middle of the living room. you shrieked, jumping from the couch, while theo seized his wand, ready to fight the intruder.

“put your wand down, theodore! it’s just me!” theo’s father exclaimed, his hands in the air in surrender. theo sighed, setting his wand down, but his shoulders didn’t loosen. 

“why are you here?” theo asked hesitantly. theo’s father chuckled, stepping closer.

“you mean at my own place,” theo’s father snapped. his gaze finally fell onto you, a hint of disdain turning his nose upright at the sight of you. “come talk in the other room.”

theo looked at you, a silent question. you smiled softly, jerking your head towards his father, a silent answer. theo nodded, following his father to the other room. what you heard next would continue to haunt you for the next five years.

“i’m here because this cannot go on any longer. you are not to see that mudblood anymore.”

“don’t you fucking call her that,” theo snapped at his father. the sound of a hand slamming against wood came next, making you flinch. 

“i’ll call her whatever i want, i am your father! you will listen to me!”

“i don’t have to do anything–”

“theodore, you are eighteen years old! you are not a child anymore. i used to excuse your little, should i say…engagements, when you were at hogwarts. you were a teenager, but now you have to think of your future.”

“i am thinking of my future, father, she’s my future!”

“she’s nothing! she is nothing. you are not to see her anymore.”

the arguing continued, but you couldn’t bear to hear any more of it. you stumbled out of the flat, your eyes blurry with tears. you’d never heard someone speak that way about you, despite dealing with some bullying at hogwarts for being muggleborn. it was nothing compared to this.

“baby, baby, wait!” theo had exclaimed, running after you. he’d caught up to you in the hallway, grabbing your arms to turn you towards him.

“i’m just gonna go,” you said, trying to shake him off of you, but he wouldn’t budge.

“no, please don’t. don’t listen to him, he’s wrong, he’s so wrong. i love you.”

“i love you, too, theo, but maybe he’s right. you deserve someone better, someone who can give you more.”

“you can give me everything i need.”

“i can’t give you everything your family needs.”

at that, theo was silent. despite the amount of love he had for you, it wouldn’t make his family, namely his father, accept you. you’d never be able to have the future you wanted together. 

“we’re done,” you said quietly.

“you don’t mean that,” theo said, his grip on your arm loosening as he stared at you in shock. 

“i do,” you said. “it was never going to work.”

“oh, and why’s that?” theo snapped. “because apparently now you’re too scared to be with me?”

“i can’t let you throw your life away for me! i can’t be what you need.”

“yes you can.”

“leave it be, theodore!”

“you know it’s not theodore. it’s never been theodore.”

“goodbye, theodore.”

“you don’t get to give up on me!”

“i’m not giving up on you, i’m letting you go.” tears fell down your face, but you couldn't bring yourself to wipe them away. it was like you'd be wiping away your emotions, and you were never one to hide how you felt.

“no, you know what? fuck you, y/n. you are giving up, but you’re right. we are done.” theo also had tears falling freely down his face, and he too wouldn't wipe them away.

with that, you ripped your arms out of theo’s grip and walked down the stairs, away from him and out of his life. 

instantly the next day you regretted rushing into things, and you went back to his father’s flat, only to find no one there, and no sign of a return.

over the next year, you sent a letter every single day, apologizing and begging for forgiveness and everything in between. you had sent them all to theo’s home address in italy, but you never received a response. it was unlike theo to not respond to something like that, but you thought you might have gotten the wrong address.

whatever the reason, you never heard from theo again.

“hello?” theo said again, this time almost in the form of a question. he was still standing there, and you were struck with the fact that he hadn’t aged a day. he still had the same tired, blue-grey eyes, sandy brown hair, full pink lips, and even the slight furrow in his brow was the same.

you were still speechless, and you were sure that he probably thought you were a freak by now.

“hi,” you breathed out. theo chuckled, glancing down towards the counter.

“i’d like to buy this book, miss,” theo said. “i lost my old copy.”

“oh…ok.”

your brain was on complete autopilot as you picked up the book, twisting it around in your hand to type the price into the cash register. you glanced up at theo, silently hoping he wasn’t looking at you, only to make direct eye contact with you. he smiled softly, pulling out his wallet.

“i love the bookshop, it’s exactly how i pictured it,” theo said quietly, glancing around the room. he offered you cash, and you accepted, which felt weird for some reason. you had never expected theodore nott to be purchasing a book from what was supposed to be your bookstore with him.

“thank you,” you replied. “took about six months in reno, not using magic obviously. i wanted to do it the old-fashioned way, the real way.”

“ah, i see. well, it’s beautiful. you must be so proud.”

“i am.”

you slipped the book into a small bag, shoving it towards theo in a hurried manner. the man’s presence was honestly shaking you to your very core, and you were sure you were going to throw up after he left.

“would you like to get coffee?”

“i’m working, i don’t think that’d be such a good idea,” you replied quickly, much too quickly.

“i can come by later, what time do you close?” 

“i’m not sure we should–”

“we close at seven,” a voice said from behind you. you whipped around to see your brother standing in the doorway to the backroom, a frown on his lips as he glanced between you and theo. your brother knew everything that happened, and didn’t care for theo, so what’s going on?

“ok,” theo said, glancing from your brother back to you. he looked you up and down, finally resting on your face, and smiled. “i’ll be back at seven, though that’s a little late for coffee. how about a beer? at our pub?”

“i’ll probably pass–”

“she’d love to,” your brother interrupted, glaring at you. theo smiled, nodding at you as he stepped away from the counter, new book in hand.

“i’ll see you then,” theo murmured, waving to you and your brother. you watched in silence as he turned and left the bookshop, effectively making you even more nauseous than him entering. there was something about watching him leave that made everything you’d ever felt for him rise to the surface. 

the realization hit you: you still missed him.

oh, merlin, you missed him so badly. his cologne still seemed to linger in the air, and you did your best not to lean forward to try and inhale every last bit. he still had the same haircut, the same eyes, the same smile. he still leaned forward slightly when he answered you, his wallet was still the same (just a little worn), and his voice still had a hint of that italian accent that made your blood turn to lava. everything about him was still just as enticing as before, if not more so, since he’d grown up a bit.

“why did you do that?” you snapped at your brother, only to be met with an eye roll.

“i don’t love the guy, but i never saw you as happy as you were with him,” your brother responded, as if the answer was plain in front of you. you raised an eyebrow as he turned right around and went back to work.

the rest of your day went by as slow as possible. your feet dragged, and your mind kept travelling elsewhere. you had to apologize to so many customers because they’d ask a question and it would just go in one ear and out the other.

when the clock hit seven, and the last customer was finally out of the shop, you sighed in relief. it had been one of the longest days of your life, waiting for the day to be over. you heard the door open, and the small bell wrapped around the handle jingled. 

“sorry, love, we’re closed,” you absentmindedly said over your shoulder, pulling your purses off the hook behind the front desk.

“it’s just me,” theo’s voice said from the doorway. you stood up straight, still not to hearing his voice. 

“oh, hi,” you replied, slipping your purse strap over your shoulder. 

“are you ready, or do you have some stuff to do?”

“i can take care of it,” your brother said, effectively ushering you out of your own store. “go, catch up, enjoy yourselves.” 

“i guess i’m good to go,” you replied, rolling your eyes at your brother’s demanding attitude. he simply smiled, walking you towards theo, who was also smirking. it seemed like everyone was in a great mood except for you.

the walk to the pub was short, but quiet. theo had asked you a couple shallow questions, just about the shop and your family, checking up on everyone he couldn’t see anymore. you answered him quickly, asking questions about his life in return. it turned out theo was in town for the week, but normally travelled a lot. theo frowned at that part. 

you entered your old pub, letting theo hold the door open for you. you subconsciously led him to your old spot, the booth tucked in the back, but this time he sat across from you instead of next to you. the feeling left you cold and lonely. he rapped his knuckles on the counter while you looked everywhere but him.

“woah, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” a man’s voice called from across the room. you looked over to see your favorite bartender, kenny, practically running towards your table. you couldn’t help the smile that overtook your face as you hopped out of the booth to give him an embrace.

“kenny! it’s so good to see you!” you exclaimed, letting the older man kiss your cheek. theo had gotten up as well, shaking kenny’s hand after you let go.

“my two favorites, come to visit me at last!” kenny said, clapping theo on the back. “what’s it been, five years or something?”

“sounds about right,” you replied, quieter than before. kenny’s eyes flitted between you and theo, his brows furrowed in confusion, or judgement, or maybe something else entirely. theo shifted on his feet, his gaze falling to the floor.

“well!” kenny clapped his hands and rubbed them together, as if he was trying to dispel the tension. “the usual?” he pointed at you, then at theo, waiting for you both to nod in agreement. when you do, kenny grins and heads back towards the bar. 

as you slid back into your seat, you watched theo do the same, his eyes never leaving yours once. you instantly felt self-conscious, after having been so long since you’d felt his heavy gaze. you crossed your arms in front of your chest and leaned back in the booth, trying to make yourself as small as possible so he has less to judge. 

“you look well,” you said, trying to break the awkward silence that permeated the space between you two. theo nodded, the side of his mouth slightly upturned at your compliment.

“you, too,” theo replied. he motioned towards your hair. “i like your hair. it’s a new color.”

he was right. you’d gotten your hair done the week before you opened the shop, wanting something new to match your new life. how did he notice? how did he remember what it looked like before? 

“thank you. so, what brings you to london?”

“work,” theo said simply. “i had a couple things to take care of before heading back home.”

“where’s home for you? i presume italy, since that’s where your father is.”

theo stiffened at your mention of his father, his gaze falling down at the table. inside, you recoiled. you’d never meant to make him uncomfortable, but all these years you’d guessed he’d follow in his father’s footsteps and take over the family business. 

“i haven’t seen him, so i wouldn’t know where he’s staying,” theo said after a beat. your eyes widened, unable to hide your surprise at this new information. 

“oh, i’m sorry,” you said, doing your best to control the situation. you were never one for having difficult conversations, and you honestly regretted bringing up his father in the first place. after all, mr. nott was the reason you two had broken up in the first place. “i didn’t mean to pry.”

“it’s alright. i’m actually working for the ministry, with the foreign affairs and sports department. i travel a lot, but it’s decent work.”

kenny came by and finally dropped off your beers, and you took a small sip as you listened to theo talk about his job. apparently, he travelled all over the world, which once again didn’t seem to please him. 

“so what have you been doing for the past couple years?” theo asked after his spiel about working for the ministry. you shrugged, taking another swig of your beer. you pushed around the water ring it had made on the table with your finger, absentmindedly creating swirled patterns as you though of how to respond.

“i lived in the states for most of it. i worked at a muggle company. i was pretty hostile towards using magic for awhile, and wanted to get away from it all. one of my friends from primary had moved a few years ago to california and asked if i wanted a job with her in graphic design.” you rattled off a couple tidbits about life in america, how it was living in an apartment smaller than a closet, and tried to ignore how theo’s eyes seemed to bore into your face, his attention unyielding.

“why’d you quit using magic?” theo asked after you finished. you sighed, letting your head fall back to stare at the ceiling. of course, out of everything you’d talked about, he’d want to bring this up.

“i didn’t want to,” you replied curtly, giving him a deadpanned look that said drop it. theo tilted his head, narrowing his eyes to mimic your expression.

“and why not?”

“i would rather not talk about this with you.”

“oh.”

really, how could you possibly explain to theo that the reason you put a pause on your magic usage was because his father's words long ago had made you felt so inadequate, so unworthy, that you could barely pick up your wand? you didn't think he'd understand, and you feared for his pity.

silence fell across the table again, with theo occasionally picking up his bottle for a drink. you tried to avoid staring, but the truth of the matter was that theo was still extremely attractive, and it reflected in every movement. you admired his jaw as he tilted his head back, the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallowed, the muscles in his bicep that showed through his button-up.

you could only wonder what you looked like in theo’s eyes. you hadn’t changed much about yourself in the past five years, save for your hair color that theo’d noticed. he probably still looked at you and saw that eighteen year old girl he’d fallen out of love with.

“i missed you,” you said gently. as soon as you said it, you felt your cheeks heat up, and you looked down towards your drink. you fiddled with the rings on your hand, twirling each one with your thumb. “sorry, i shouldn’t have said that.”

“i missed you, too,” theo said. your heart just about stopped when you looked up to face him. he wore a soft smile, a genuine smile, and his eyes held something adjacent to longing. you matched his smile, for once not letting your eyes wander under the strength of his eye contact. you relished in the feeling of having his eyes on you again, it had been so long that you’d been starved of his attention.

you and theo talked for the rest of the night. everything was a bit of a blur after your third beer, the both of you laughing at things that shouldn’t have been funny. it felt like you’d stepped back in time, stepped back to when he loved you and you loved him…though it felt like you never stopped.

theo walked you to the bus stop. the summer breeze brushed your skin, making your hair get caught in your eyelashes as you stood waiting under the bus shelter. theo stood next to you, occasionally glancing down at you when he thought you weren’t looking. the air between you felt electric, palpable, tense. 

“can i see you again tomorrow?” theo asked, his eyes facing the road ahead. his shoulders were tense, as if he was bracing for your rejection. you shrugged, putting your hands in your pockets.

“yeah, sure,” you responded, glancing up to smile at the man. theo looked down at you, an earnest smile playing on his lips. his shoulders visibly sagged as he breathed a sigh of relief.

on the train ride home, you couldn’t get rid of the smile on your face.

the next day, sunday, theo picked you up at the entrance to your bookshop. it was a sunny day in london, and theo was wearing a t-shirt and loose fitting jeans. his hair was damp, as if he’d just gotten out of the shower, and he smelled faintly of soap and cologne. 

the two of you fell into comfortable conversation as you explored the city, frequenting all the shops and boutiques you used to go to. it was so out of the ordinary, but so normal at the same time. to be walking down these roads with theo after so long was equivalent to the feeling you get when you return home after spending your whole life lost in a haze.

theo paid for your coffee when you two went to the cafe, ordering himself an espresso and you a latte, and the two of you headed towards the park across the street. you’d bought a couple books, and theo’d done the same, and he’d also bought a new sweater that you assured him didn’t look too big.

you sat on a small bench across from a lovely oak tree, theo plopping down next to you, setting his few bags on the ground next to yours. he stretched his legs out, laying his arm on the back of the bench behind you. you felt the warmth from his arm seep into where it pressed into your back, somehow setting your whole body aflame. it was the first time you’d felt his touch since you were eighteen, and you remembered quickly how enraptured you’d become of the boy.

you took a sip of your latte (which theo thought was downright disgusting) and let yourself soak up the peace in this moment. the tree branches swayed in the wind, causing a few leaves to fall around the park, settling into the green grass below. wildflowers were scattered across the ground, popping up through the dirt in no apparent pattern or plan. this park in particular was your favorite place to be in the summer. the sun seemed to shine here the most (when it wasn’t gloomy, of course).

“why didn’t you write me?” you asked suddenly, as if you couldn’t control yourself. you sat up, turning to face theo, whose brows were furrowed in a confused expression. “i sent atticus to deliver you letters, every single day for a year. why didn’t you write?”

“what…” theo trailed off, sitting up to lean in closer. “what are you talking about, what letters?” 

“i wrote you, theo, and you never responded. the day after we broke up, i felt so horrible and wanted to talk things through, fix things if i could. i went to your father’s flat but you were gone, so i wrote letters. i tried to reach you, but you never responded, so i thought you hated me.” you felt tears prick the corners of your eyes, so you blinked rapidly, trying so hard to remain strong in front of this man that you loved so much, even still.

“i…i never got your letters. you wanted to fix things?” his voice was soft, in awe of your confession. he tilted his head, and you could’ve sworn tears were in his eyes too.

“of course i did!” you exclaimed, trying to laugh away the lump in your throat. 

a moment passed of just you and theo staring at each other, a foot away from each other’s faces, when you felt theo put his hand against the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. you jerked in surprise, but only for a moment, as he pulled your head closer so his lips could meet your own.

kissing theodore nott used to be your favorite pastime, and you were quickly remembering why. his lips moved against your own in perfect synchronicity that it felt like he was an extension of your own being. his nose bumped against yours as he cupped your cheek with his free hand. the hand that was behind your head slipped lower to grip the back of your neck. you sighed into the kiss, and theo licked your bottom lip, begging for entrance. you parted your lips, and he entered, kissing you with a renewed fervor. your hands tangled in his hair, cupped his cheeks, felt his jaw, they were constantly moving around his face. you loved the feeling of him under your fingers, wanting to commit it all to memory.

you finally pulled away, needing to breathe, and rested your forehead against theo’s. his chest heaved, breath tickling your mouth, and you closed your eyes. this was the feeling you’d been missing the past few years. 

“i wasted so much time,” theo murmured. “if i would’ve known, i would’ve–”

“don’t waste time thinking of the past,” you replied, short of breath.

“ti amo, ti amo ancora.”

and with that, theo made his way back into your life, almost like he’d never left in the first place. you two quickly made up for lost time, spending every free hour together. theo quit his job at the ministry, since apparently he was itching for a reason to leave, and started helping out at the bookshop. 

years later, the two of you made things official with a wedding, a grand one at that, filled with family and friends and people in the community that you'd met through your busy bookshop. you did host dinner parties in your small flat every week, and you did adopt a small cat from the local rescue.

pretty soon, your life looked exactly how you both had dreamed it, all those years ago. despite the pain it took you to get there, you looked around at the life you now led, the husband who loved and took care of you, the small child you two brought into the world, the little cat that was curled up in their lap, and you realized you'd do it all over again if it meant you'd get this result.

[juyeonszn]

BAD IDEA RIGHT?

PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 4.10k

GENRES … smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, literally porn with plot. like i’m so insane, enemies to “we fuckin” as reese put it 🥰, frat boy tbz again!!!, juyo is literally so irritating in the first half im not even gonna lie, he’s also a manwhore, making out, reader is a bit of a brat, juyeon has a dirty mouth, kinda dom!juyeon, vaginal fingering, oral (m! receiving), SHOWER SEX !12!1!, he’s hitting it from the back btw, unprotected sex, creampie, juyeon is actually… i don’t even know how to describe him writing his character made me want to claw at the walls lol

SUMMARY deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. but paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

MORE heheheh im back 🤭 oh my god this was actually the cause of a week full of sleepless nights. i genuinely drove myself crazy writing this bc NEED FRRRR like idk i’m so 😭 delusional. ANYWAYS. ANON. THIS ONE IS FOR U. U REQUESTED THIS AND I RAN WITH IT. u wanted more juyeon, i deliver more juyeon ;) also shout out to ally, moni, AND reese for beta’ing 🥺 i love u my cupcakes!! prompt used: 18 <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble

If there was anyone on Earth that you hated more than anything, it had to be Lee Juyeon.

To put things plainly, he was quite literally the bane of your existence. Being around him made your blood pressure skyrocket and gave you migraines that lasted for days. It was insane how one person could affect you so much by doing so little. It seemed as if he thrived off of getting under your skin.

Considering he was the captain and the pitcher of the baseball team, it wasn’t shocking. He was also a member of one of the most popular fraternities on campus. But he happened to be roommates with one of your best friends, and that made it ten times worse.

You’d known Changmin since third grade, along with Kevin and Chanhee. When he mentioned he’d be joining a fraternity in college, you were a bit apprehensive. All you knew about them was what you’d read in YA books and seen in movies. Neither gave them a good rep. Part of you wanted to talk him out of it, but you knew this was something you had to let him do, given you were adults and it was his college experience. At least you still had the other two under one roof.

The first time you met Juyeon was also the first time you attended a frat party. Changmin had just passed his initiation after waiting a year and he invited all of you to celebrate. You were excited for the most part since high school parties were more for an adrenaline rush due to the fact that your parents never let you go to them and you either snuck out or lied about going. You didn’t have to worry about the limitations of parents this go around.

The boys disappeared almost immediately upon arrival, leaving you to fend for yourself in the very crowded fraternity house. You could hardly pass through a room without bumping into somebody’s shoulder or elbow, huffing as you maneuver around the house equivalent to a sardine can. Your drink nearly spilled onto your top multiple times and you were glad you decided against the heels for the night.

You chugged the rest of the jungle juice in your cup as you stepped onto the patio, where it’s just as noisy and just as packed. You’re lucky enough to find an empty lounge chair near the house’s pool, unoccupied and calling your name. When your legs touch the plastic chair, you flinch at how hot it is, most likely from being in the sun all day.

“Woah, do you want a cushion?”

You look up at the source of the voice. You’ve seen him around campus before, and even at Changmin’s games. Lee Juyeon was just one of those people that you had to know, unless you’d been living under a rock. Just like everyone else in the world, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. From this distance, you truly understood why girls would giggle like high schoolers over the guy.

“Uh, sure. Yeah, that would be great actually.” You nod, watching as he wanders towards the shed in the corner of the big ass backyard. He returns promptly, holding his red solo cup between his teeth and one hand on your lower back guiding you to a standing position so he could place down the cushion.

“As a thank you, can I get your name?” He gives you a cocky little smile that should’ve been a warning. And looking back on it, you should’ve seen his true personality sooner, to be completely honest. The way his lips curled at the corners, like a conniving bastard who got off on irritating others.

“It’s Y/N,” you say, messing with your empty cup. “I’d ask for yours, but I kinda already know.”

He laughs at that, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s not surprising.” It’s at this point that you’re starting to see through his sweet facade, but despite knowing better— despite always keeping your guard up— you let yourself fall for it just this once. All because you didn’t want to fuck things up for Changmin. He owed you big time.

“Well, you are a talented athlete.” You didn’t want to fuel what is probably already a massive ego, but you’d rather compliment his baseball skills than the fact that he was infamous for screwing around with half of the girls on campus. Technically, that was a feat of its own since he’d only been in school for a year.

“Oh, so you think I’m talented?” He rested a hand on your chair, leaning down to your level. Confidence oozed from every corner of his being and if you weren’t so self aware, perhaps you could’ve ended up like all those other victims of his charismatic behavior.

“I go to the games for Changmin,” you scoff, glancing away from his face to stop the heat rising up your neck. “I’ve only paid attention to you once or twice.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's go with that,” he bites his lip, blatantly checking you out. “I wouldn’t mind paying attention to you a little.”

“I’m unimpressed, Juyeon,” you snort, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does this shit really work on everyone?”

“I can drop the act if you want, baby. Just let me know when you’re ready to stop playing hard to get.” He stands upright, running a hand through his hair.

Every time you ran into Lee Juyeon after that, he was more and more insufferable. He knew his influence on you, too, if his smug fucking grin was anything to go by. You wish you could just slap it off of him. However, you stood by being the bigger person in any given situation, so that was off the table. (And half of you still felt a moral obligation to not get your friend into hot water.)

“Would it kill you to play nice every once in a while? I do live with the dude, you know.” Changmin whines, trailing you in the supermarket like a lost puppy.

“He’s got a point, N/N,” Kevin adds, humming as he tosses a boxed dinner into the cart. “I get that he’s a little bit of an overconfident douche, but rolling your eyes at him when he hasn’t even done anything just makes it worse on you. And JiChang, too, I guess.”

“Bro…”

You weren’t even sure why he decided to tag along with you and the other boys when you mentioned grocery shopping. In fact, he might as well have stayed his ass home if he was just going to gang up on you the whole time. Chanhee sighs dramatically, bringing your shopping cart to a halt.

“Can we not have a peaceful grocery trip? Is that impossible or something?” His lips form a thin line. “I swear, all we do is talk about how much Y/N hates Lee Juyeon. Can we please move on?”

“Thank you, Chanhee, I agree,” you nod along, walking backwards as you do so and ignoring the faces your friends make. “He makes me want to kill myself.”

“Who makes you want to kill yourself?”

You jump up, frightened by the sudden voice in your ear. Your friends all give you sheepish smiles, as if they’d already tried to warn you. (What shitty jobs they did.) With a hand over your heart, you turn around to meet— speak of the devil— none other than Lee Juyeon himself.

“What are you doing here?” Your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest. Luck could never be on your side when it came to this guy.

“Uh, last I checked, this was a public supermarket. Where I can publicly shop. I wasn’t aware that I had to run that by you. So sorry, sweetheart.” He pouts, his expression so theatrical you nearly give in to your constant urge to punch him in the face.

You feel your eye twitch, and it takes everything in you to step back and assess just how bad it would be if you committed murder right now. Changmin comes to your rescue, doing damage control as best as he can while Kevin attempts to talk you out of becoming a criminal.

The two frat brothers do their little fraternity handshake thing and then finally he’s out of sight, out of mind, allowing you to visibly relax. Chanhee purses his lips. “Okay, so maybe I do see where the anger comes from. And holy shit, Y/N, you have the patience of a saint.”

“The person you have called is unavailable! At the tone, please leave a message. When you have finished recording, you may—”

“Goddammit.” You curse, ending the unsuccessful call.

The downside of working far from campus, was working far from campus. You didn’t have your own car and usually relied on one of your roommates for a ride to and from. But now here you are, stranded at work while it’s pouring cats and dogs outside. Kevin was in class and Chanhee wasn’t picking up his phone. You could call Changmin, but you’re pretty sure he also had a class around this time.

Just as you’re about to succumb to your demise, you receive a text from Chanhee.

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: IM SO SORRY AJNSSJNW BUT SOMETHING CAME UP WITH A GROUP PROJECT

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: DONT WORRY THOUGH, IVE GOT IT COVERED UR STILL GETTING PICKED UP

“Could today get any worse?” You mutter to yourself, locking your phone and tossing it into your purse. As if your timing couldn’t be better, you spoke entirely too soon. Your eyes squint at the unfamiliar car rolling up under the carport. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because you had no idea who could be your saving grace. Chanhee was a wild card so who knew who he had on speed dial.

But then the passenger window rolls down and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Lee Juyeon grins that stupid fucking grin of his, beckoning you to his car as it unlocks when he shifts into park. You shake your head.

“No way. There is absolutely no way I am getting into that car.” You shout over the pelting rain.

Juyeon tsks, his eyes rolling when he reaches over the center console to open the door for you. “Is there anyone else who would drop everything they’re doing to pick you up in this weather?”

Your lips pull into a flat line. The answer was no, you didn’t have anyone else who would drop everything they were doing to pick you up in this weather. That was the reason Juyeon was here, you supposed. It didn’t mean you weren’t at least going down without a fight, though. Except, Lee Juyeon was a man who was all too comfortable with how expressive you were. Most notably towards him.

“What? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you. I’d rather walk.” You seethe, starting straight in the direction of your apartment. Juyeon groans at first, your constant need to prove yourself getting on his nerves for once. Then his eyes widen slightly when he realizes you’re not joking.

The truth was that the rain was freezing and you’d love to be in the shelter of a warm car. In fact, you didn’t really care that Juyeon was the person driving. But you were too deep into the bit now. You couldn’t just turn around and get in the car, for you had a pride to protect at this point.

“Shit.” Juyeon swears under his breath, reaching into the backseat to grab an umbrella. Sure he loved to tease you and rile you up, but he wasn’t cruel. Your friends would have his head on a silver platter if he let anything happen to you.

You pause in your steps when you’re no longer being showered in rain water. Juyeon holds the umbrella over your head with a worried expression. You feel kind of bad for making him chase after you even though he’d already gone out of his way to pick you up. Sometimes you wish your ego wasn’t so fragile. Maybe then you could accept help when you needed it instead of making things worse.

“Can you please stop being so stubborn and just get in the damn car, Y/N? Do you have to make everything difficult all the time?” Usually, pissing you off made him over the moon, but you can tell he’s not exactly pleased at the moment. You swallow thickly, nodding quietly and following him back to his car.

The whole drive to your apartment is silent save for the song playing on his speakers. It’s not as loud in comparison to the storm outside, but you’re grateful that it’s filling the space between you. If only Lee Juyeon hadn’t done such an excellent job ticking you off like a bomb, then maybe you would’ve just hopped in the passenger seat with ease. But no, he had to goad you until you made an irrational decision and now here you are.

As he pulls up to your building, you say a little prayer that you don’t regret your next actions. He stops as close to the stairs as he can, but you turn to him before unbuckling your seatbelt. With a deep breath, you ask, “Would you like to— uh— come inside?”

He glances from you to the stairs and then shrugs, parking in the nearest empty spot. He holds the umbrella over both of you as you make your way to your unit, lightly sprinting so you don’t get anymore soaked than you already are. You figured the least you could do was invite the dude into your home and offer him some hot tea, just so he could warm up before heading back to the TBZ house. Your roommates not being here to make fun of you was also a plus.

There’s still an unspoken tension even after you’ve shed your raincoats and shoes by the front door, settling into your apartment and its coziness. Juyeon sits at the breakfast bar as you busy yourself with preparing the kettle and getting a couple tea bags. His watchful gaze is a little intimidating now that you’ve seen his serious side.

Once you’ve finished making the tea, you set his mug in front of him. You look everywhere but him when you say, “I’m gonna take a shower if you’re okay waiting out here by yourself.” He doesn’t respond verbally, so you take it as your cue to leave.

You turn on the water to let it heat up before gathering your essentials. When you’ve completed your back and forth trip from the bathroom and your bedroom, you’re finally ready to just relax in your shower and forget about today’s events. But how could you ever truly relax with Lee Juyeon in your space, permeating your peace?

As you’re shutting the bathroom door, a foot jams itself between the threshold and stops you. You glance up from the floor to meet Juyeon’s eyes. They’re darker than you’re used to, a deep shade of brown that has your stomach twisting into knots.

“You know, Y/N, this game of cat and mouse is starting to get old,” he takes a step into the steaming room, locking the door behind him and trapping you. “Just admit to yourself that you want me.”

You sputter at his bold words, because you don’t. You don’t want Lee Juyeon. Why would you want Lee Juyeon? “I’m not gonna lie to myself. I don’t want you.”

He laughs humorlessly, closing the gap between you just a little more. You don’t have it in you to back away from him. He reaches a hand up to tuck some damp hair behind your ear. You’re still wet and cold from your stupid idea to walk in the rain, but Juyeon plans to warm you up perfectly. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you breathe.

“Why don’t we test that theory?” Now he’s got you backed into the wall, his face a hair’s breadth distance from your own. “I have a feeling I can change your mind.”

You don’t know if it’s the heat of the bathroom or Juyeon’s lips being so close, but so far simultaneously that has your brain turning into static. Your head feels fuzzy, like you’re watching TV on an empty channel through a blurry lens. You lick your lips, vision trained on his. “Why don’t we?”

That’s all the confirmation he needs to press your mouths together in a searing kiss, hotter than the temperature of the room. You feel him smile against you when you make no move to push him away, instead carding your fingers through his hair. He groans when you tug a bit, twirling the longer strands around your index.

His hands slip under your top, thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. This is a terrible idea. Deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into Juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. But paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

When you part for air, you both start stripping your top layers, resuming your attacks on each other’s lips once you’re left in nothing but undergarments. Juyeon trails kisses along the side of your neck, nipping and sucking wherever he feels fit. You gasp when he finds that particular spot that contributes to the butterflies fluttering about your stomach. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“Yeah?” And despite getting ready to give you the pleasure of your life, his grin against your skin still manages to irritate you. “You hate me so much, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whine as his fingers dip beneath the band of your panties, toying with your sensitive cunt. “Hate you so bad— ah…”

“You might wanna shut up soon, sweetheart,” Juyeon warns, sliding his ring finger between your lower lips. “Or else I’ll give that mouth something to do.”

“I’ll do whatever I want,” you pull his hand from your underwear, kneeling in front of him when he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Your nails scrape lightly down his abdomen before hooking into the waistband of his briefs, freeing him from the material. It takes a lot out of you to not visibly react at the sight of his cock, hard and flushed to the tip. You couldn’t dare inflate his ginormous ego, the situation you were currently in already doing enough on its own. His size is impressive too, making you wonder just how he expects you to take him like a champ.

“What a fucking brat,” he hisses, your tongue swiping along the underside of his dick. “Always gotta have the last word, don’t you?”

“Mmmm,” you moan, mouth full with just the tip. You’d never been the type of person who cared about size. As long as they knew what they were doing and made you finish, you held no qualms with their length. In fact, you don’t think you ever even paid much attention to anyone’s dick in your life. But if there was anything to back Lee Juyeon’s cockiness, it had to be, well, his cock.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this moment,” he confesses, wrapping your hair around his hand into a makeshift ponytail. “But, fuck, this is so much better.”

The admission shoots straight to your core and you find yourself whimpering, the vibrations against his dick driving him crazy. He has to support his weight with one hand flat to the wall, the other still tightly fisting your hair. With every suck and flick of your tongue, he tugs a little more, the sting on your scalp providing you with more pleasure than pain. You pull off of him to take a breath, jerking him off as you do so.

“Am I meeting your expectations?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, drool sliding down your chin and makeup smeared under your eyes in tear streaks. He groans at the sight of you, forcing you to a standing position so he could kiss you again.

You start dragging him towards the shower, unhooking your bra and stepping out of your panties. He raises an eyebrow at you, amused. “You want me to fuck you in the shower, baby? Have you slipping all over my cock?”

“Duh,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at his question, practically pawing at his underwear to get him out of them fully. “Did you think I sucked your dick on the bathroom floor for fun?”

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”

He kicks them off, reconnecting your lips as you step into the shower. The hot water hits your back almost like a massage, synchronously getting in your mouth as you make out with Juyeon aggressively. It’s like he can’t get enough of you, big hands kneading and groping everywhere and nowhere all at once. You feel insane, especially with how good of a kisser he is. It’s like you’re on cloud nine and nothing’s capable of bringing you down.

When he’s finally lost his patience, he spins you around, pressing you cheek first to the shower wall. You feel him against your lower back, his lips leveling with your ear. In spite of acting as if he had himself under control, you can hear the pant in his breathing, deep voice a little desperate than usual. He has a hand gripping your thigh and picking up your leg.

“No protection?” He asks, his cock already gliding between your folds in anticipation.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head as best you can with his body sandwiching you to the tiled surface. “Wanna feel you raw.”

“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that to me,” Juyeon groans into your ear, giving no warning as he spits down your front and hikes your leg higher, thrusting into your cunt. “You’ll make me wanna stay buried in you forever.”

You moan, hand coming up to hold the side of his head as he fucks you into the shower wall. If someone were to ask about this very moment, you weren’t too sure how you’d defend yourself. A moment of weakness, perhaps? But if a moment of weakness felt this fucking good every time, you might fall into a habit of judgment lapses.

He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting your shoulder and the surrounding area with each snap of his hips. The angle he drives into you at has stars forming at the back of your vision, the tip of his cock brushing that one spot deep inside of you whenever he thrusts up. You don’t even think his entire dick is in you as he does this, but you also don’t really have the mind to care, way too focused on memorizing the veins of his shaft with your walls.

You’re far too gone to consider the consequences of your actions, the horizon of your release just beyond your fingertips now. You’d never needed someone so viscerally before, so carnally. Yet here you were, sucking Lee Juyeon’s cock in with your pussy like you were a damn vacuum. The sounds you’re making bounce back and forth on the walls, no doubt louder than the shower water itself.

“I— I-I’m so— fuck,” you mewl, words wobbling. “I’m so, so close, Juyo.”

“Yeah, baby?” He sighs in your ear, nudging your sensitive clit with his thumb while raising your leg as much as he physically can. “Me too, where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you don’t think you even make sense anymore, babbling as he continues to fuck you stupid. “Please. Want you to cum inside me.”

Juyeon grits his teeth, pleased with himself that he didn’t orgasm right then and there. He uses his last ounce of strength to get the two of you off together. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me.”

The fogginess subsides pretty quickly after you’ve finished, your brain registering what just happened almost instantaneously. If you weren’t so hypersensitive, you would’ve pulled him out yourself and scrambled to flee the scene. (And maybe even the country.) There are many more rational thoughts running through your head now. The entire trajectory of your life has just been changed, whether you realized it or not. But the biggest issue was:

What the hell do you do now?

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Metanoia ;

Aemond Targaryen x Transmigrated!Strong!Reader

>> Chapter VI : The End of the Beginning.

Summary: Things begin to quickly escalate.

WARNINGS: canon typical incest, angst, grief, mentions of child loss, aegon is a dick.

A/N: divider creds to @cafekitsune

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Everything was moving way too quick for your liking. You thought your marriage pact to Aemond would prevent the war, yet it seems like it's inevitable. You felt nothing but despair watching Aegon walk through the crowd of people, for his coronation.

You knew what was next, Rhaenys would burst through the doors and leave right after threatening them, so you wait anxiously, standing next to Aemond.

But nothing happens.

Rhaenys didn't appear and the coronation went smoothly.

What was happening?

You were escorted back to the castle with guards around you till you reached your room, knowing that the blacks would try to come get you any moment. The greens were on guard.

A few days passed since then, Rhaenys’ absence shocked you the most. You had written a letter to your mother, informing your mother of the happenings.

You paced around your chamber restlessly, anxious about how the story is developing, it seems that your interference made everything worse.

Perhaps it was always meant to be this way, for everyone to be doomed. You thought of Luke, Aemond, Helaena, and all the lives that were taken away because of this war.

You never really acknowledged how real everything was until you felt the taste of potential calamity. Your head snaps to the side when the doors burst open, the guards rushing in and grabbing you.

“W—What are you doing?!” You yell, trying to fight the guards but they say nothing, dragging you out of your chambers by force and out into the hallway.

You are brought down to where the dungeons are, below the castle before being thrown into one as the guards lock the door. You look at Ser Cole who was one of the people that guard you down here. He looked at you with a mockery of pity.

“It was the King's orders.” He speaks, noticing the need for closure in your eyes. Your eyes widened at the truth, lips trembling as you felt useless. Unable to change anything, if in fact everything is more shit.

“What about Aemond? I need to speak to him right now!” You cry out, and Ser Cole shakes his head, “He had called off the betrothal with you.” Those words felt a stab to your heart.

He called it off? No it definitely couldn't be.

Aemond wouldn't do that without consulting you first.

But deep down, you feared that it would be the truth, cause the body you're in believes that to be the case. He was a man stuck to his duty after all.

“Your betrothal to Y/N should be annulled immediately.” Aegon's voice booms through the small council as he sits there on the chair, somehow making coherent decisions. Aemond had just walked in then, immediately being met with a command.

“Why?” Aemond asks in disbelief, his eyebrows furrowed. “I can not, she is— I do not wish to.” Aemond affirms his decision standing tall against at the end of the table, seeming as though he was the king, making decisions.

Aegon scoffed, “You dare defy the king? But I will excuse you, for you are my brother. I'm aware that cunt must've felt good. But it isn't beneficial for the war.” Aegon spews comically, expecting everyone to laugh with him but no one does. Alicent shifts uncomfortably in her seat as she watches the interaction between her sons.

Aemond grits his teeth, his anger oozing off him, suffocating everyone in the room. He clenches his fists, nails digging into his palm as he tries to not move impulsively.

“Aegon, is right.” Alicent interferes, not making eye contact with Aemond. “Marrying her will not do any good. We must use this to gain allies. Besides, who knows what Rhaenyra might do. Now that her child is with us.” She simply states, avoiding the gaze of Aemond.

His eyes darted around the room, everybody was silent.

His mind ran wild, as he stood there still, thinking of the possibilities, thinking about everything.

He swallowed a tight lump in his throat, and the next words that left his mouth, betrayed both himself and you.

“I understand.”

————————————————————————

Rhaenyra's sobs fill the room as she clutches her head, her council looking upon her. “I can't lose another child. I'm afraid I cannot bear it.” She quivers, her body still traumatized from losing her unborn child.

She refers to you. “My baby, I can not. lose. her. again.” her mind fills with the memories of you being asleep for many years, the nights she's spent by your side hoping you'd wake up.

“I am not a good mother, am I? Daemon. I left my child in the viper's nest, even though you were against it.” Rhaenyra stared at Daemon, her mind in shambles. He gazed in silence at her. She was going mad. She couldn't keep calm.

“Those traitors! How could they? Has there been any other letter from her?” She asks as soon as a guard walks in, the one who she planted as a spy.

“The princess has been thrown into the dungeons,” those words were enough to send Rhaenyra spiralling out of control, as she yelled at everyone to take immediate action. She will burn down the city if she needs to.

“And it seems that they have called off the betrothal.” He finishes and Daemon scoffs. “Those cunts.” Daemon mutters underneath his breath.

“We must wait.” Jacaerys speaks up, unable to see his mother spiral like this. “Mother, I am aware that you are worried about our sister, but we need to deal with this sensitively.” He tries to be the voice of reason for her. Luke joins in, holding his mother by her hand and she stares at the both of them before calming down.

Rhaenyra's eyes darken as the last of her tears fell down her cheek. Her mind reeling up a plan, before she toughens up and focuses on the matter before her.

————————————————————————

Aemond left the keep on his horse, going to the forest where Vhagar was sleeping soundly. He goes near her, grazing her sides and she wakes up, feeling her rider near her.

He climbs on top of her, knowing the direction he was meant to go. And so he does, flying off in the direction.

The duty felt heavy on his shoulders, but the betrayal even worse, you must be so confused on what is going on. After the betrothal with the baratheon, he will fly back to you and explain everything.

Yes, it is what he will do.

You probably felt lonely, all alone in your chamber, he should've probably told more guards to protect you before he left but he shakes his head, hoping that you'd be alright.

Ironic how far he was from the truth. He had no idea that you were currently suffering in the dungeons.

The gut feeling was malicious, warning him that he is doing something wrong, but he tried shaking it off. It wouldn't budge. It got so worse to the point he felt nauseous.

He thinks for a minute.

His eye hardens as he takes deep breaths, the weight of betrayal suddenly lifting off, and the pressure of duty fade into nothingness as he commands Vhagar to fly the other direction, spinning her around.

To dragonstone it is.

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