#no shade to people who like it and for sure I enjoyed reading it

[sometimesanalice]

Call My Bluff

Summary: Rooster and Hangman have always attracted attention wherever they went, only now you're starting to have a hard time ignoring it. You weren't jealous, you couldn't be. After all, they're yours- at least for now.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader x Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

Length: 5.8k

Warnings: smut and a dash of angst (mdni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the Up the Ante universe, however it can be read on it's own!)

You knew you were staring- casually observing, one could argue- but it was hard to pull your gaze away from Jake at the bar.

He had gone to get another round of drinks for everyone more than ten minutes ago. It was a busy night at the Hard Deck, but not that busy. It really shouldn’t have surprised you though to realize why he was held up, especially with the way his tight white t-shirt was offsetting his end of summer tan. He’s always been too damn charming for his own good, especially when it was paired with that deep rooted sense of southern hospitality.

It wasn’t a rare occurrence to see Hangman getting hit on by another woman. However, it was the second time that night he’d been approached by the same woman with all too interested eyes and an enticing smile.

“If I didn’t know better,” Rooster says, sliding up to you and squeezing your hip, “I’d say you’d look like you were jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” It comes out a bit too short to be believable.

He just gives you a knowing look, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “Well, you know I think you look gorgeous in pretty much everything. Including that particular shade of green.”

You let out an annoyed huff and take distracted sip of the remnants of your drink, which was now mostly melted ice cubes with an essence of gin.

Bradley just chuckles lightly and takes a quick glance around the room before pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head.

“I’m sure I could think of a couple ways to distract you," he offers.

You’ve been enjoying this something with them over the last few months. The three of you fell into everything so easily, but it wasn’t something you’d put a label on yet. You’ve always been the type of woman who likes having all the answers, but with them- with this- for the first time in your life you were ok with not having them.

There were electrifying nights the three of you spent together. And there were peaceful nights you spent home alone. There were times it was just you and Rooster and other times when it was just Hangman and you. There was time spent in beds and out of them. There were sunny days spent on the beach. There were hours spent taking road trips and exploring your new state. There were nice dinners out and quiet nights in. There were reservations made for two and there were tickets bought for three.

It was a new dynamic for you, and something you’d never could have expected. And you’ve been happy.

Really, really happy.

But over the last couple of weeks, it’s been hard ignoring the voice in the back of your head that has been filling your brain with all the what-ifs.

What if this isn’t working for them the way it was working for you.

What if this causal arrangement you have with them isn’t enough.

Or worse, what if you’re being selfish with them.

As you watch Hangman with that smooth smile on his face- but without a trace of those dimples you know so well- as he talks to the pretty girl near his elbow, you can’t help but wonder if this something – with him, with them- comes with an expiration date.

The room feels too small with the crowd of people- with their loud chatter and booming bursts of laughter- and all the too big thoughts swirling around in your head. Everything feels like too much, from the rings of ceramic mugs on the ceiling to the string lights and model planes around the bar to the patches covered walls.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmur, stepping out of Bradley’s grasp.

He hums, letting you know he’d heard you, giving you your space before drifting over to the pool table where the rest of the Daggers are gathered around.

And then you walk straight out the front door and leave.

You’ve been home for less than an hour when you hear a set of car doors shut with a heavy thud outside of your house. And there’s no question in your mind about who it could be.

The two quick, sharp raps on your front door only a few moments later confirm what you already knew.

You’d turned your phone off the moment you’d gotten in your car, wanting some time to yourself, not in any kind of mood now to be around other people. The only thing you could think of had been getting home so that you could simmer in peace. You had just wanted to get your head back on right without feeling like the walls were pressing in on you.

You open the door to see Rooster standing there looking pissed. His big arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight, and lips pressed firmly together in a flat line. Jake is just a step behind him, leaning against the porch post with his poker face already in place, a pretty picture of nonchalance.

“We tried calling,” Bradley rasps, the words clipped and short. You can tell he’s trying to keep his temper in check, but there was no missing the storm cloud behind his eyes.

You blink at him and drum your nails on the side of the door, giving him a flippant shrug. And Jake lets out a low disapproving whistle that grates on your already ragged nerves.

Rooster lifts an eyebrow at you like really. He’s always been the more hot headed one of the two of them. You know this cold shoulder act of yours is pushing his buttons, and you’re surprised he hasn’t called you out on it yet.

Not that you’d probably answer him anyways.

The last thing you want to do is talk.

It was why you left in the first place.

You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to think. And you really didn’t want to deal with your feelings.

Sex was easy. Sex was fun. Sex wasn’t complicated.

Everything else is exactly what you’d been trying to get away from, and instead all you’d done was have it delivered directly to your doorstep.

“I don’t remember inviting either one of you over,” you state, coolly, doing your best to feign indifference.

Rooster’s mouth drops opens, but Hangman is quicker on the draw. “And yet, here we are,” he says, stating the obvious, then mirroring the same brazen shrug you’d given the glowering man in front of you. “Guess the question is, are you going to let us in?”

You know without a doubt that if you said no they’d respect your decision and walk themselves right back to Jake’s truck and out of your drive away. You could have your space to simmer, just like you’d wanted.

What you’d thought you wanted.

…

Or.

Or maybe you just needed to remind yourself what exactly this is. Since there’s not much room to think when you’re too busy coming.

You drag your gaze from Bradley’s smoldering whiskey brown eyes to Jake’s all too observant sea green ones, before spinning away from them to saunter down the hallway towards your bedroom.

Knowing you still have the full weight of their twin stares on you, you reach for the hem of the oversized shirt from your college days that you’d thrown on the second you’d arrive home and tug it up and off, dropping it on the floor right before you turn the corner and out of their view.

There are a few noises you’re able to pick out in the too quiet of your house over your thundering heartbeat as you flick on the switch to the lamp in the corner of your room. The click of the front door being shut and the deadbolt turned into place. The sound of their sturdy soled shoes being toed off at the entry. The low baritone of Hangman’s murmured drawl, although the words that are spoken are too soft for you to make out.

And then the one you’d been anticipating the most, their weighty footsteps coming down the hallway to your bedroom. They’ve always teased you about it, with all of the soft pinks and creamy neutrals, and how it looks too sweet, too pure for a woman who enjoys taking two cocks as much as you do. But you’d seen the gleam in their eyes and the gears turning in their heads when they’d help you set up your pretty white wrought iron bedframe; it was the one thing they’d never commented on, especially since you were more than happy letting them tie you up to it.

You’ve just shimmied out of your panties- still bent at the waist- when you hear Bradley groan behind you. You linger there a moment longer than you need to, making sure he gets a good look at you like this. From reflection in the mirror that’s hung on your wall, you can see that the irritation is still rolling off of him in waves, but so is the heat of his want as he watches you stand back up with greedy, appreciative eyes.

Turning back towards him you let him take his fill of your naked body, one hip temptingly tipped to the side, daring him to be the one first to make a move.

Rooster slowly drags his heated gaze over you before he pulls his t-shirt over his head in that one-handed way that men do before pitching it off to the side. His broad chest is already starting to turn your favorite shade of flushed pink.

“How can a girl as pretty as you be so goddamn frustrating?” he mutters as he flicks open the button of his tight jeans. Only unzipping them enough to release some of the pressure off his visibly hard cock in a way that shows you just how turned on he is.

You feel high off of your own self-satisfaction as it twists and swirls in your chest.

“I think she just likes keeping us on our toes,” Hangman drawls, entering the room. A slight look of amusement coasts over his handsome face as he looks from you to Rooster. Clearly content to wait for the two of you to work whatever’s going on out of your systems.

You skim your fingers up your body and cup your breast in your hand. “What? You don’t think you can keep up, Rooster?” you challenge. He tips his head back up towards the ceiling and forces out a breath through pursed lips. And you’re tempted to see just how far you can push him.

“Oh, darlin’,” Jake chuckles, shaking his head, “You’re determined to trouble tonight, aren’t you?”

“And if I am?” you taunt, rolling your nipple between your fingers. Two sets of eyes hone in on the motion, but no one makes a move. “But if you both are just going to stand there, I’ve got a vibrator that works just as well- if not better.”

You’re trying to goad them. You know it and they know it.

Rooster struts up to you, grabbing a handful of your ass and hauls you against him. He’s thick and firm against your stomach. “If you’re going to act like a brat, then I’m going to treat you like a brat, baby,” he murmurs into the hinge of your jaw, “Now, get on the bed.” He punctuates the order with a swift, firm flat-handed slap.

And for the first time since you’d left the bar, you grin. Feeling entirely too pleased with yourself, even with the lingering sting of his handiwork.

This. This is what you want.

You want demanding fingers and the scrape of teeth on your skin. You want messy mouths and generous tongues.  You want fast and hard and filthy and rough. You want to hear their heavy breaths and moans and curses. You want to give and to take, only for them to reward you with more.

You want as much of them as you can have, for as long as you can have them.

Bradley basically herds you to the bed while Jake watches on with a smirk, not that you needed much convincing anyways. The second you’re stretched across it, Bradley is on top of you wedging himself and those wide shoulders of his between your thighs.

There’s no build up, no gentle lead in. Rooster’s mouth is set on ruination.

He’s had you enough times that he knows exactly how to flick and circle and lave over you in a way that will end with white noise in your ears and starbursts behind your eyelids. His tongue is unrelenting on your clit, showing you no mercy as you start to quake under his touch.

It’s dizzying how fast he’s gotten you so spun up. Your breaths are coming out ragged and uneven as your fingers dig into the fabric of your gauzy duvet. And every time you whimper, he rewards you with a groan that only ripples up and throughout your keyed up body.

You’re right there, so so close to unraveling.

And then he pulls his mouth off of you, “Why’d you leave?”

A shocked gasp escapes you. At the timing of the question and the way he bites the fleshy part at the crease of your thigh.

“Bradley.” You keen as he sucks the very same spot, like he wants to mark you as his own.

“C’mon now, Bradshaw,” Jake tuts, from where he’s leaning against the door jamb, “Our girl was so close.” His ankles casually cross over each other, looking right at home as he watches you get eaten out by another man.

Rooster scoffs. “She can come as much as she wants, after she answers the damn question.” He brings the hand that had been gripping your hip over the center of you. “How about this,” he says, sinking a single thick finger into you, “Consider this a show of good faith.”

And then he has the audacity to send you a smirk.

“Fuck you, Rooster,” you huff, tilting into his touch. Bradley just hums and rolls his eyes, because he knows you well enough to tell when you actually mean it and when you don’t.

“You could be,” he reminds you. Then crooks his finger just enough to show you how devastatingly good it could be if he wasn’t set on edging an answer out of you.

You roll your hips trying to take more. To get him to give more. Anything to get you to that heady place again, where the only thing keeping you grounded in the moment is their bodies against yours.

“That’s it, sweetheart, keep riding his fingers.” Hangman’s hot gaze roams all over you as he crosses the room to sit down on the bed next to you. He reaches out and runs a big hand down your sternum, you arch into it offering more of yourself up to his touch. You know he’s feeling every jump of the muscles in your stomach under his heavy hand as he rests it in the soft space under your bellybutton.

You suck in a breath when Bradley teases you with a second finger. He only allows you one heartbeat of hope before he denies you that more, more, more you’re desperate for.

But he wasn’t the only one in the room capable of giving you exactly what you wanted.

“Jake, come on, fuck me.” You look up at him from under your lashes, hoping he’ll be the one to cave first.

“You’re a regular poet laurate, aren’t you,” Jake states, shaking his head at you.

You shoot him a glare. “I’ll write you a haiku later, just make me come.”

You feel a puff of air over your cunt from Rooster’s amused chuckle. It causes you to clench around his finger, but it’s not enough to get you there.

You try to reach for Hangman’s cock, still confined in the snug jeans he was wearing. He doesn’t even give you the chance to undo the top button before he catches your hand in his. “Nuh-uh, greedy girl, none of that.” Hangman presses the palm of your hand over his length, showing exactly what you’re being denied. “Not sure you’ve earned this, not after your disappearing act.”

“Not you too,” you pant. Weren’t sure if it was the weight on your chest or the sheer want of them that was making it hard for you to get a proper breath.

“Yes, me too. I don’t think you realize just how much you worried the old man,” Jake drawls, “You know that can’t be good for his heart.”

The old man between your trembling thighs takes the opportunity to rub his mustache over your needy clit, the friction of it almost makes you jump out of your too tight skin. And for an all too brief moment your mind blanks as need ricochets throughout your body, the only thing you can think of is how desperate you are to come.

Jake collects your other wrist in his warm hand and brings them up above your head. He leans over you, with your faces only a few inches apart you can smell the peppermint of his favorite mints on his breath.

“Leave them up there for me,” he murmurs. It’s a command that’s dressed up like a request.

He pauses a moment and searches your eyes, asking you a silent question with the resolved dip of his chin. You answer by curling your fingers into the edge of your mattress, it’s your first concession of the evening. The only one you’re planning on making.

Jake gives them a quick squeeze before he lets go, “Good girl.” His southern accent is smoother and richer than honey against your ear, it makes your toes curl in response.

“Oh, now you want to behave,” Bradley grumbles into your inner thigh, his slightly chapped lips scraping against your oversensitive skin. “Don’t forget, I’m still waiting for an answer, baby.”

His fingertip on your clit isn’t teasing anymore, now it feels like a taunt.

“Next question.” You dig your heel into his shoulder blade, urging him for more, but he doesn’t budge an inch.

Neither one of you are ready to fold.

You can feel the sweat starting to collect behind your knees where they’re resting over the overheated skin of Bradley’s shoulders as he alternates between slow, shallow thrusts and a featherlight touch of his calloused fingertip against your clit. Every now and then- if he’s feeling generous- he’ll treat you to his tongue, dipping out to taste and tease you.

Rooster takes his time in that thorough way of his to get your legs quivering and quaking. He keeps you teetering there, perfectly and precisely balanced on the edge. Not enough to get you off, but just enough to keep a steady flow of wetness dripping out of you. You don’t need to see his hand to know you’re making a mess out of him. Out of yourself. And probably out of your duvet.

Your body feels like a house of cards, just one breath away from toppling over. gust

“Jesus,” Jake says, his voice husky and rough, “I won’t ever get tired of seeing you like this.” His eyes feasting on your body that’s displayed just for their hungry gaze.

But he might, that voice in your head taunts you. They might.

You press your forehead into his denim covered thigh, it’s all too much and not enough all at once.

This wasn’t what you’d imagined when you’d invited them inside. You’d envisioned hand mussed hair and skin-on-skin and their flushed, satisfied faces. And so far, you were still the only one naked.

“You’re not… This isn’t…” Your fingers flex as your arms strain with the effort to keep them where they are raised above your head. “Why are you still dressed?” you hotly demand, not ready to forfeit this one-sided fight.

“I’m just here for the free show.” Hangman circles his finger lazily around your bellybutton. “You’ve been so determined to be so tight-lipped all night, but that pretty pussy of yours is sure making a lot of noise for a woman who hasn’t even been properly fucked yet.”

You’re hit with the realization that he’s giving you a taste of what you’d been dishing out since the moment they’d arrived, always one to give as good as he gets. It was just as hot as it was infuriating. Because that’s the thing about knowing how to push someone’s buttons was that they knew exactly how to push yours in return.

“You better watch your mout-ah.” You might have sounded almost convincing if Rooster hadn’t pumped three thick fingers into you suddenly, stretching and spreading you around them. You gasp and arch off the bed at the sensation. It’s the most he’s given you all night.

Jake tsks, flashing you his dimples. “But I’m having fun watching his mouth instead,” he says, nodding his head towards Bradley. “Speaking of, you got a little something on your chin there, Bradshaw.”

“That’s because arguing gets her wet.”

You can’t even deny it because the evidence is right there for them both to hear in the slick sound of him thrusting his fingers back into you. You press your head into the bed and try to arch your hips, but Jake’s firm hand pushes them back down, making you whine.

“Rooster, please, I just want to come.” And if it sounds like begging, it’s because you are now.

“And you know what I want, so it seems we’re at a stalemate.” You try to hitch your right leg open further, but Bradley hooks his arm around your thigh and pulls it back in, keeping you in place. “Baby, I’ve got all the time in the world. I’m a patient man. For as much fun as I’m having here trying to get an answer out of you, I’d much rather be coaxing orgasms from you instead.”

The frustration swells and crests inside of you. You’re tired of being toyed with when all you’d wanted was to not have to think for a while.

“Bradley, you can’t seriously expect me to want to have a damn heart-to-heart when your fingers are literally inside of me,” you fume.

“Ok, then.” He pins you with a pointed look and withdraws them, finally calling your bluff. “Can you please tell us what the hell is going on now?”

Jake tips your chin up to look at him, the congeniality replaced on his face with seriousness. “As much as I try to avoid agreeing with him, I think you owe us an explanation for why you left without saying a single word to either one of us, darlin’.”

“I didn’t realize I answered to you,” you say, haughtily. Not proud of yourself for getting short with them when they don’t deserve the heat of your irritation.  

His eyebrows pull together in confusion. “Hey now, you know it’s not like that.”

“What’s it like then, Jake? It’s not like you’re-” you cut yourself off, pressing your lips tightly together.

Of course he doesn’t let it slide. “We’re not what?”

Him and Rooster exchange a look over the top of you when you don’t elaborate further, some unspoken understanding passing between them. The mood between the three of you shifting immediately.

Hangman tugs you up just enough for him to maneuver himself behind you and cradles you back against his chest, his arms winding themselves around your waist. As Bradley rests his chin on top of your thigh, his thumb making soothing circles on the swell of your hip, “We’re not what, baby?” And you’re not sure you’ve ever heard his raspy voice so soft before.  

The silence stretches as you war with yourself. They know you well enough to know you need a moment. You’d made a career for yourself knowing the right words- the strategic kind- but when it came to communicating your feelings, you’d always found it so much harder to string them together.

This is the exact conversation you’d been trying so hard to run from, but you didn’t want to play games with them anymore.

Sharing your emotions makes you feel a thousand times more vulnerable than being naked in front of them ever has. With them you feel sexy and powerful and wanted, especially when you’re pressed between them like you are now. It’s a different kind of intimacy entirely letting them see the confusing mess of what’s going on inside your mind.

“Does this have anything to do with Rooster teasing you about being jealous earlier tonight?” Hangman asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Because you should know by now that I only have eyes for one girl.”

And there it is- bullseye. 

Your gaze slides over to Bradley, “You told him about that?” He shrugs a broad shoulder, which jostles the thigh that’s still draped over it.

“He was concerned when we realized you weren’t at the Hard Deck anymore, we both were.” Jake cups your cheek and turns your face back to him, encouraging you to rest your head on his shoulder.  “I asked him to fill me in on what I’d missed, because I thought we were having a good night up until I came back from the bar to learn you weren’t anywhere to be found and not answering your phone.”

The wave of guilt that washes over you makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. You’d been so inside your own head that you hadn’t taken even a moment to think about how they’d feel about your impulsive retreat. At the very least, you should have sent a text before turning off your phone.

You chew on your lower lip for a moment, before speaking, your voice quiet and tentative, “You can’t be jealous when you don’t have any real claim to someone.”

It’s not like you can be frustrated at anyone other than yourself. You were the one who wanted to try and keep things discreet. Casual. Because of your job and theirs. People talked enough on their own without you wanting to give them any more fuel to add to the smoking embers.

The rumors of your favorite aviators’ hook up had followed them for years since that first time it happened in Florida, just not many people knew that it had been you from the very start. You’d all kept in touch, but infrequent nights spent tangled in sheets before returning back to your real life was different than all of you being stationed together for the foreseeable future.

The ambiguity of what you all were to each other had chafed at you tonight in a way it never has before. It wasn’t something that you’d all talked about together before. After seeing the interest on the other woman’s face, you couldn’t deny that her and Jake had looked good together. But what you’d been most struck by was just how content and at ease he looked leaning there with an elbow at the bar.

It wasn’t a secret those closest to you all there was something going on between the three of you. After all, Bradley was affectionate and Jake was objectively the least subtle man on the planet. It wasn’t something you were hiding; it just wasn’t something you were actively trying to broadcast to all of NAS North Island.

But for the most part, they’d been following your lead since they knew you liked to keep your cards close to your chest. And while you liked to consider yourself an enigma, they were both looking at you right now like you were a book that only they were fluent in reading.

“‘Real claim’,” Jake repeats back to you, slowly. Like he’s not believing what he’s hearing. “Oh darlin’, where’d you get that idea?”

“Is that what this is all about?” Rooster’s eyes are intense as he looks at you. “Just because we’ve been keeping things casual doesn’t mean this thing between all of us isn’t the real deal. I’m not seeing or sleeping with anyone else. And I don’t want to.”

“I’m not either,” Hangman adds, running his hands along your sides. “I’ve got my hands more than full with you and I like it that way.”

You knew that they weren’t and they knew you weren’t too. Sex has always been the easier thing to talk about. That particular discussion had ended with the mix of their cum dripping out of you and too many orgasms to count.

But what happened if having fun turned into wanting more. You didn’t know how long they’d be fine with this dynamic, with splitting time and attention.

You look from one to the other. From green to brown. “And you’re both truly fine with sharing? I need you to be really honest with me.”

Bradley tilts his head at you, and asks, “You don’t think we’ve talked about this before?”

A surprised laugh almost slips out of you at the mental image of them hashing out their feelings during the commercials between some game on TV, but he’s looking at you so thoughtfully that you know he’s being entirely serious. The fact that this was something they’d already discussed between themselves on their own was news to you, especially considering you felt like you could barely get the words out yourself.

“I had no idea,” you admit, not sure whether to feel sheepish or not.

Jake tangles the fingers of your right hands together. “The way I see it is that even when you’re not with me, I know you’re with someone I know and trust, who cares about you just as much as I do. Someone who’s going to look out for you the same way that I would.”

You almost expect him to tack on a joke at Rooster’s expense at the end, a bit of banter or something to liven the mood, but he doesn’t. And the weight of his words sinks into you.

“And when we’re together? When it’s the three of us?” You reach out with your other hand to run your thumb along Bradley’s jaw, needing to touch him too.

“You know us pilots, we’re a competitive bunch. But we also work as well on our own as we do as a team.” Bradley explains, running his hands along the outside of your legs. “And what we do here together with you, it just feels like an extension of how we are up there.” Jake squeezes your hand in agreement.

“But how is this going to work? It’s already complicated enough when there are only two people in the equation.”

“You’re the one calling the shots here. You’re in charge and always have been ever since that first time in Pensacola,” Rooster reminds you. “We’re both here because we don’t want anyone else. This doesn’t need to be complicated. Whether you’re with him or with me or we’re all together. It’s already working just fine when you aren’t going ghost on us and ditching us without saying a word.”

You know you’re going to have to make it up to him. For as confident and sure of himself as Bradley Bradshaw is, you know the spots where he’s tender and tonight you were careless with them. You’re just grateful he’s going to give you the chance to make things right by him.

“We’re good. This is good,” Jake promises, leaning his forehead against your temple.

You feel like your heart might burst from the sheer affection you have for the two of them.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” you say, apologetically.

Hangman’s lips skim your cheek. “It’s water under the bridge, darlin’. But if you need space, tell us. Don’t just cut us off like that, ok?” You nod in agreement. “So what do you need from us? Do you want to call us your boyfriends?”

“I think I just…” You pause to mull over your words. They already were in all the ways that mattered, you just weren’t sure whether you were ready to define it entirely. At least not yet. “I think I just need to know that you’re happy. Just like this. With how we’ve been doing things.”

“Baby.” Bradley croons. So sweetly, so indulgently. And you get the first real smile you’ve seen from him since he arrived on your doorstep. It’s your turn to smile when he drops a kiss to the top of your thigh. “Are you happy?”

The answer is easy.

“Yes.”

He looks over at Jake. “And are you?”

Jake has his chin propped up on your shoulder. “I’m happy,” he confirms, kissing the spot behind your ear that always makes you shiver deliciously.

“And I definitely don’t have anything to complain about.” Rooster says, gesturing to his spot between your legs. You lightly tug on his hair and he laughs. “Yes, sweetheart, I’m happy too.” He reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it.

“So I was the only one overthinking things?”

“You sure were,” Hangman agrees, “You and that big brain of yours.” He trails open-mouth kisses up your neck. “Now have you straightened out your shit or are we going to have to do it for you?” he asks into the shell of your ear. You can feel the grin he’s wearing, and you’re positive if you turned to look at him you’d see those dimples of his.

“No promises,” you sing.

Because where’s the fun in that?

“There she is,” Bradley murmurs, honeyed and soft. A sigh escapes you when you feel his tongue along the inside of your thigh, even as your heart starts to race.

“That’s our girl.” Jake tips your head back, lips a whisper away from yours and desire reflected in his green eyes. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to kiss me until he makes you come. And then I’m going to fuck the attitude out of you while you apologize to Rooster for being so mouthy. We’re gonna remind you what it’s like to have two aviators wrapped around your little finger. Sound good?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply as he slips his tongue into your mouth at the same time Bradley licks into you. And you know this time you won’t have to beg for an orgasm, you’ll probably have to beg them to stop serving you them.

You feel yourself melt into them. The tension you’d been carrying since even before the bar fades with every one of their touches. Happy and content in knowing that they’re yours just as much as you are theirs.

And true to his word, you’re kissed through an orgasm. And another. And another.

That night, there are two mouths that never leave your body once.

Two sets of hands that are just as capable of keeping you grounded as they are giving you pleasure.

Two warm, strong bodies that give and take then hold you throughout the night.

Two men who- one day very soon - might possibly share your whole heart.

Many thanks to the person who sent me this ask! I had fun writing this one! Thank you for reading!

Many thanks to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse ) as always!

If you want more of them, here is the fic that started it all!

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Natty x Male Reader x Soyeon (3.8K Length)

Tags: Rough sex, anal, titfucking, blowjob, facial, choking, nipple play, creampie, dirty talk

You were lying on the sofa of your apartment, overwhelmed, jaded, and abhorred due to the suffocating heat. According to the weather girl on the news, you were experiencing one of the worst heat waves in history, and she wasn’t wrong. The fan wasn’t nearly enough to combat this sunny attack on your person.

You zapped through the different TV channels searching for something to distract your mind, if you didn’t think about the heat it would disappear for sure, delusional.

You found out that on one of the channels they were playing the Olympic Games, which was definitely a good distraction. You kept watching the sports for a while, at that precise moment of the day, the swimming competition was taking place.

Within a couple of hours, the day’s competition had ended with Katie Ledecky winning, what? her 20th gold medal? That woman is the goat of swimming, was your thought.

However, that made a bulb light appear above your head, giving you an interesting idea. Maybe going out and spending some time in the public pool, soaking to cover yourself from the heat, could make you enjoy this day. You didn’t think twice and in just minutes, you had everything ready with your pool bag, towel and swimsuit.

You took your car and drove to the pool area, and as you first guessed, there were a lot of other people affected by this infernal heat.

You managed to visualize a free spot in the grassy zone, and although there wasn’t much shade, it was the best you had found, so you placed your pool bag and towel on it, smeared some sunscreen on your arms and shoulders, and walked towards the pool.

The freshness sensation when your body came in contact with the water was simply unbeatable, you were sure you could stay here until you were forced to leave to close. You approached one of the corners of the pool, resting your arms on either side of the edge as you looked around.

There was a little bit of everything at that hour of the day, children fluttering around playing with balls and water guns, their parents running after them trying to scold them, people like you enjoying a refreshing break, others taking the opportunity to do some exercise and swim, and a bunch of crazy people lying on the hammocks sunbathing, masochists.

Your eyes focused on an extravagant orange hair in the distance, which captured your attention immediately. It was a girl who was wearing a fairly short jeans and a small white tank top that left her belly visible, where you could read “Lifeguard”.

She was small, but, being honest, she commanded respect. You knew it by the way she was scolding grumpily at everyone who tried to exceed her pool’s rules, but on the other hand, with the kids, she always offered a beautiful smile.

That girl had a nice body proportions, maybe not too voluptuous on her chest, but her butt shined incredibly, especially with those tight jeans, it was hard to look away. She was certainly sexy, and…

“Looks like Soyeon caught your attention.”

A voice brought you out of your thoughts, and you noticed a feminine figure standing just to your right. How did she get so close to you without you realizing it?

“Excuse me?”

Smiling, she pointed with her head at the girl whom, until recently you were devouring with your gaze.

“Soyeon, the lifeguard, everyone will think you are a stalker or something if you keep looking at her like that.” She pointed, laughing loudly. Your face turned all red, and your body again felt so hot, not because of the heat now but because of shame.

Then you focused for the first time on that strange girl with black hair and tanned skin. She was wearing sunglasses on her forehead and a white one-piece swimsuit with different color details. She seemed like a very smiling girl, her smile seemed to never disappear, and her laugh could be heard in every corner of the pool.

“Oh no, I was just observing distractedly, I have no weird intentions, was looking to deal with this damn heat.” You explained with a little smile.

“Really? Too bad.” She pouted. “I’m sure she would give you a blowjob in the locker room if you ask her.”

“W-W-What?” Your confusion and nervousness ripped another laugh out of her.

“Yeah, she looks so rude now, but she is a slut who loves cocks.”

That little conversation was making you so hot that it seemed like the surrounding water was boiling. Then the girl moved closer to you, standing in front of you, blocking any other view you might have but hers. Her hand moved underwater to touch your penis, which had acquired a considerable size.

“And me too.” Your body tensed at her touch, and you looked nervously to each side without stopping. You never experienced something like this before in view of everyone, afraid that anyone or even worse, that lifeguard would find out what was going on.

“What are you doing? Anyone could catch us.” With her other hand she placed her index finger over your lips to shut you up.

"Shhh, trust in me." She put her whole hand into your swimsuit to grab your cock, masturbating you with slow movements.

"My name is Natty by the way. Nice to meet you." Her smile was cute, but at the same time, you can see in her that she was enjoying so much watching how you react to every step she took.

"Same here." You replied slowly and haltingly to avoid letting out a moan due to her fantastic touch.

She got even closer and caught your lips in a soft kiss, which you really enjoyed until you noticed how she used her thumb to play with your tip. She gave you a smirk and another kiss, masturbating you again, this time increasing the speed. You bit your lip, refusing to emit a moan as you grabbed her hips to help her use her body as a shield so that no one would notice that situation.

The palm of her hand was playing again with your tip, rubbing with fast movements, making you grab her hips harder. She playfully smiled at you for that. But she suddenly stopped, took his hand out of your swimsuit, and stepped away from you a little, still smiling. You looked at her with a clearly disappointed face.

“If you cum here in the water, we will have some problems, you should cum in another appropriate place, my face, for example.” She couldn’t say that kind of thing with a big smile and laughing, she was crazy.

“I will wait for you in the locker room, don’t make me wait, yes?” She came back to you to whisper in your ear. “I’m so fucking horny…” You hard swallowed saliva.

You saw her get out of the pool and head toward the changing rooms, she was totally fucking crazy, and the worst part is that you were following that crazy girl.

You waited until your erection subsided and became less noticeable for the rest of the people there before you could leave as well. You followed Natty way to the locker room, looking one last time at the lifeguard girl now sitting on her chair. She was looking directly at you too, and it gave you goosebumps.

As soon as you entered the locker room, Natty cornered you against one of the walls, looking at you with lust. She smiled playfully, going back into your swimsuit to make your cock hard again.

Now you didn't control yourself, and you let out a couple of moans that were quickly silenced by Natty's lips, who desperately searched for your tongue. Your hands traveled to her cheeks, fighting fiercely in that kiss but keeping enjoying her masturbation.

You placed your hands on her shoulders, and with a quick twisting motion, she was now the one pinned against the wall.

She left your penis for a moment to take her huge boobs out of her swimsuit. You salivated when you saw them free, and you threw yourself on them to put them in your mouth.

Natty moaned non-stop, enjoying how you licked and sucked her tits, imprisoning her even more against the wall, making her rise a little so that she could surround your waist with her legs.

"It seems I have unleashed the tiger." She smiled, burying your head further into her breasts, rubbing them over your face, and in response, licking and playing with her nipples.

You stopped then, taking some air, breathing heavily, taking her hands and taking her to the other end of the locker room, telling her with a nod to sit on the bench. She did so, and before she could blink, you guided your cock towards her boobs. She understood your intentions instantly and laughed at this.

She put her hands on either side of her tits, trapping your cock in the middle of them, moving them at a frenetic pace, making you moan non-stop.

"You like my titfuck right? I'm an expert."

"I fucking love it, so good." You said, slapping one of her tits, drawing a moan from her.

In response, her tongue began to lick your tip as her tits continued to be dragged along your entire length. Your cock sank between her tits and reappeared again and again, making everything start to get wet.

"More." She moaned, but you didn't know what she meant. "Spank my fucking tits harder, fuck." She asked desperately, and you wouldn’t say no to that.

You slapped her tits again, this time continuously, the sound of your palms hitting her meat echoing through the place, now joined by her screams.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, YEEEEEES." She screamed without holding back in the slightest.

She stopped her titfuck and then grabbed your cock, using it to slap her own tits and even rub your tip against her now hard nipples.

She stood up and, still holding your penis in her hand she dragged you to one of the bathrooms, closing the door.

"Sit down." She ordered, pointing to the toilet, and you obeyed immediately.

She pushed aside the part of her swimsuit that connected to her pussy, giving you a perfect view of it, dripping intensely. You started to masturbate yourself admiring her.

"Look what you've done, I hope you're proud." She said, stroking herself a little bit.

"I am." You responded in a mocking tone.

You kept your cock erect as you watched her approach you, straddling you, connecting your cock with her pussy and slowly starting to lower yourself, taking it all in.

"So big." She whispered, caressing your chest.

"So tight." You responded in kind, moving your hands to her butt.

And so Natty began to ride you, raising her hips until she left only the tip of your cock inside her pussy and then lowering herself abruptly, obtaining it whole.

Your cock hit Natty's depths again and again, and your moans were drowned in insatiable kisses that were continually cut by the pleasure you felt.

On one of those times when your lips separated, you took the opportunity to catch one of her boobs that was bouncing non-stop, with your mouth, sucking hard and biting her nipple.

Feeling uninhibited by the pleasure, she increased the pace with which she rode you, while with your hands now on her hips, you helped the movements become more ferocious.

"I'm fucking cumming! I'm cumming!" Natty moaned without stopping her pace until she finally stood over on top of you, cumming.

With hardly any time to waste, she got off of you, kneeling on the floor in front of you, masturbating your cock quickly, and sticking out her tongue.

A few threads of semen were shot straight from your cock towards her face, staining it completely.

"Fuck." You gasped, tiredly watching her try to collect most of the cum from her face with her hands, bringing her fingers to her mouth and licking them.

At that moment, the bathroom door opened with a loud slam. You both turned around startled, looking at the little orange-haired lifeguard who was looking at you very angry.

Your pulse stopped for a moment, you could see how she looked at you, at the pitiful appearance you had at that moment lying naked and exhausted on the bathroom.

"Really Natty? That's the third time this week." She commented, looking at the girl on the floor, who was smiling nervously.

"Sorry, Soyeon, I couldn't resist."

"I've told you, I have no problem with you doing these things, but not on days like this, with so many people, what happens if they catch you?"

"I know, I know, I'm so sorry." She apologized continuously, putting all his clothes back on properly.

"I'll make it up to you, okay? I will invite you to dinner tonight, okay? Okay, bye!" She said, running out of there, fearing her friend's anger.

You took advantage of that moment to stand up and try to leave the bathroom in search of your clothes, but Soyeon's arm prevented you.

"Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you."

With a little push from her, you backed away and fell back onto the toilet. You noticed how she was still glaring at you.

She switched her gaze to your cock, you tried to cover yourself with your hands, but a slap from her made you move them away again in pain.

"Ouch!"

"Shut up," she said, closing the bathroom door behind her. She kneeled where Natty had been minutes before and grabbed your limp cock, still covered in cum.

"What a waste." She whispered, starting to lick your entire cock from top to bottom, cleaning it.

It wasn't something you had expected, and that made you horny again, fattening your cock until it regained its full state again.

Soyeon lifted your cock and captured one of your testicles with her mouth, holding it there for a few seconds and repeating the action with the other one.

"You better have saved something more." She threatened, still angry.

"I can get an extra special load for you." You said, making her look at you.

Without saying anything, she opened her mouth wide and inserted the entirety of your penis into it. You gasped and by reflex you brought your hands to the back of her head, burying it on your cock.

Soyeon didn’t protest about it, on the contrary, she began to move her head uncontrollably, making a lot of erotic sounds during the blowjob.

"Shouldn't you be alert for someone drowning?” You asked curiously.

She let your cock escape from her mouth, completely covered in saliva, and spit on it.

"It's Yuqi's turn, now the only one who's going to choke is me on this damn cock, so shut up and show me why Natty was screaming like a whore."

She resumed the blowjob, using her hands to play with your balls at the same time.

You brought your hands to her head, grabbing a fistful of orange pigtail hair in your fist to help her swallow your cock.

She continued sucking you with just her mouth, taking off her lifeguard top with her hands, and you took the opportunity to touch her small tits.

“They aren’t as big as Natty, but I will treat them the same.” You squeezed her nipples with your fingers, surprising her and making her gag on your cock.

You took advantage of that sign of weakness, and using your fingers, you started to stretch her nipples a little bit. She closed her eyes while she kept taking your cock. As she didn’t stop you, you kept stretching her nipples more and more, they were turning really hard and red under your fingers.

Soyeon reached her pain limit and caught your wrists with her hands, stopping the process going. She lifted her head to look at you with her mouth filled with your cock. After a few seconds, she lowered her head back to the base of your cock and released your hands that were still gripping her nipples, giving you permission to continue, and you did, applying a new wave of pressure to her nipples.

She tried to resist the pain combining with the pleasure she was having sucking your cock, making your dick reach deeper in her throat, in an attempt to silence her screams.

Her nipples were released from the pressure, telling her to stand up, and when she did, you pulled her towards you, sitting her on your lap. Her lips were swollen from the treatment she had given to your cock, and a trail of saliva came out of her mouth.

You touched her tits again, caressing her sensitive nipples that reacted under your palms. Soyeon made a small moan, they were so red and itchy that even the slightest touch bothered her.

Once again, her nipples were your objective, this time licking with your tongue one of them while the other one was being pinched by your fingers. Your mouth started to suck her nipple. You looked at her, but her face didn’t change at all during this time. She was still looking angry at you, so you decided to bite her nipple, making her scream.

Your hands grabbed her nipples in a quick move, but she reacted fast and stopped you again. Both of you were looking at each other, the challenge was being sent, and she had to make a decision.

“Motherfucker.”

She removed her hands, accepting the challenge, and you smiled, raising your hands with her nipples held. Her arms surrounded your neck, and at the same time, she began to rub herself on your cock, masturbating you.

The higher you raised her nipples, the faster she moved, and you could notice how her pants couldn't retain the liquid that was beginning to drip from her pussy.

You gave her nipples one last thrust, digging your thumbs into them as if they were a button. Her movement stopped instantly. She opened her mouth, but there was no sound. You got as close to her as possible without letting go.

“Slut.” You were smiling, she was furious.

Soyeon got off your lap and turned around, you thought she was going to leave the bathroom, but no, she bent over to show you her impressive ass and gave herself a spank on the cheek before taking off her jeans.

"Really?" You asked excitedly. She looked at you over her shoulder, supporting her hands on the bathroom door and raising her butt for you.

You stood up from the toilet holding your cock to bring it closer to her ass, when Soyeon felt the touch of your cock she began to move her hips, twerking with her ass.

You massaged her ass, giving her a couple of kisses followed by a hard spank on her butt cheek, making her grunt, a grunt that gave way to moans as your tongue began to delve into her rear hole.

You savored every corner of Soyeon's ass while she continued to move it on your face. You separated her ass cheeks with your hands, being able to see perfectly how her small hole contracted uncontrollably.

You slowly approached your cock towards her ass, first rubbing it and then playing with it until finally you slowly entered his hole. Soyeon let out a little scream when she felt the entirety of your penis delve into her small hole, feeling a little dizzy as it continued to grow inside her, stretching her ass.

You grabbed her wide hips to start thrusting into her, Soyeon clung harder to the door, moaning uncontrollably, and with each thrust, your hand collided with her cheeks, making her clench her teeth.

She grabbed your hands from her hips and brought them to her breasts, in a clear sign that she wanted more. Without hesitation, you squeezed her nipples again.

“Destroy these little nipples.” She moaned, provoking you to give her a harder treatment.

Your cock went in and out of Soyeon's ass without rest, everything felt so good that it was even difficult to maintain composure and balance. You leaned on her back, completely cornering her against the bathroom door with your body, placing your hands on either side of her head.

Without warning, you took a few steps away and put one of your arms around her stomach and the other one around her neck, pulling her towards you, something that made your cock move even further into her ass, causing true fear in Soyeon.

"What the hell are you doing!?" She protested annoyingly, holding on with both hands to the arm around her neck.

You noticed how she tried to free herself from your grip, however she was clearly smaller than you, so you had her completely dominated under your arms. Your hips continued to move, and ramming her without stopping, you lowered your head to whisper in her ear.

"Be a good slut for me." You said, applying a little force to your grip, and in reaction to that, she couldn't help but scream a loud moan, curling her body under your arms, cumming intensely.

"Fuck, what was that?" You asked, surprised by the puddle that had formed at your feet, loosening your grip on her as she couldn't stay upright and fell to her knees on the floor.

"I didn't think you were that weak, I guess it was all a facade." You fell silent when you saw her, still on the floor, she placed her own hands on her ass, opening it for you, inviting you to enter again.

You didn't hesitate for a second to crouch down next to her and reinsert your cock inside her, making her scream again.

"FUCK, YES, PLEASE, FUCK MY ASS HARDER." Soyeon begged, totally vulnerable.

"That's right, Soyeon, you're being a good slut." You said, ramming her from behind with all your strength, that she automatically bounced her ass against your cock again.

"Yes! I'm a slut, please use me!" She screamed as a result of your thrusts and spanks on his completely reddened asscheeks.

You continued pounding herself that hard for a few minutes until you unloaded a new shot of cum directly into her ass, driving her completely crazy.

You kissed her shoulder without her being able to stop panting with her tongue hanging out, you took your cock out of her ass that was now dripping with your cum.

You left the bathroom to get dressed in your swimsuit again and looked back one last time to see a new stream of fluids coming out of Soyeon's ass uncontrollably, unable to get up from the floor.

"I have to visit more times this pool.”

[dragonsbluee]

I need everyone to acknowledge the fact that KRS!Cale is a MASSIVE bookworm. He's able to thrive in Birth of a hero because he read it and enjoyed it. (yesyes record helps him, but you can't ignore the fact that he knows the characters, not just the plot. That comes from liking the thing you're reading!)

Give me the young master spending his afternoons reading under the shade of a tree with a new book series and absolutely devouring it in one sitting. He's missed being able to read a whole series and not having to hunt for the next books through a destroyed city.

Give me Cale with a little notebook full of books he'd like to read, the titles collected from the people he talks to. He'll read anything or at least try it out, but fantasy remains his favourite genre.

He also writes little opinion blurbs for his favourtie books, or jots down quotes and favourite lines. Sure his record ability means that he doesn't really have to, but it's an old habit he enjoys.

Cale, who starts collecting books on his travels, just one or two from every place he visits. His friends and allies pick up on this and start bringing him books they think he'd like. Cale has a very speicifc and rare smile when someone gifts him a book. Its small, but it somehow takes over his entire face, and you can almost see his eyes sparkle in delight. It quickly becomes a smile everyone looks forward to.

Cale, who never turns down a book given as a gift, and so he starts picking up bits of knowledge from across the continent. He learns about the edible plants in the Jungle, the different variations of marble and stone throughout the Roan Kingdom, the fables and myths of the Dark Elves. He keeps them on a shelf in his room in the super rock villa, and every once in a while, the kids pick one to have read to them. When the shelf is full, Eruhaben pulls some out from his hoard as a gift to Cale. They're almost too gaudy, but Eruhaben enchants them to protect the books from dust, damage, and pests. Cale spends an entire day reorganizing his collection.

He never thought he would be able to build his own personal library, but here he is.

Cale loves to compare the books he has in this world and the ones he knew before. Sometime in the future, he sits down and uses record to copy out his favourite series. He gifts it to Choi Han so he can have a small piece of home he never got to experience.

It becomes known that the best way to get Cale to stop and actually take a break is to plop a kid on his lap and give him a book he's been looking forward to. One year for his birthday, Alberu gives Cale free rein to explore the palace's secret library. They find him curled up in a corner a couple hours later surrounded by stacks of books.

Cale is 100% the type of person to insist that more libraries should be available to the public so that he can read easily when travelling to different places. It's definetly not because he wants more kids to be able to learn how to read, and he was able to grow into loving books because of his local library.

[pnghoon]

daddy's in a tutu !!

(🩰) ── 𝓟ARK JONGSEONG [제이] ⁞ ㅤㅤ𝓰. fluff, humor, married auㅤㅤ୨୧ㅤㅤ warnings : est. relationship, not proofread, pet-namesㅤ⟡ㅤ!nonidol hubby !jay 𝔁 wife !reader ᯓ ꒰ wc : 1.3k꒱ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsynopsis .ᐟ in which you come back home to the sight of your husband in a pretty pink tutu (•̪ o •̪) ── 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ᡣ𐭩

juno's note ─ "unfortunately I can imagine him in a tutu if our daughter asked him too" is so jay coded. you will never not catch me yapping about husband jay..bc why is that man so hubby material. if you enjoyed reading this, please be sure to like & reblog !! ♡

the snow was falling heavily outside, blanketing the world in a soft, white layer. inside your cozy home, you were busy getting ready for a day of much-needed errands.

bustling around the house, you pulled on your warmest winter coat and bundled up, ready to brave the icy roads.

before you left, you turned to your husband, jay, and your four year old daughter, yubin, who was sitting on the couch, hugging her favorite pink stuffed bunny.

you stared at your daughter's crestfallen face as she cuddled up beside jay. It was the inevitable that the four year old would be upset right now. due to the icy roads and heavy snow, today's ballet class was canceled, leaving yubin devastated.

“are you sure you'll be okay?” you asked, fixing the scarf around your neck and grabbing your purse.

jay looked up from the couch, where he was busy trying to cheer up yubin, her eyes still a bit puffy from the earlier tears and her nose resembling rudolph.

“we'll be fine,” he reassured with a smile, “right, princess?”

yubin nodded half-heartedly, a cute pout still present on her face as she clutched her bunny.

“you guys call me if you need anything,” you reminded them, pressing a kiss to jay's cheek and ruffling yubin's hair. “i'll be back soon.”

and with one last look at your two favorite people, you braved the snowy outdoors. the cold air nipped at your cheeks, but the promise of hot cocoa and a warm house kept you going.

you made your way to the car, shaking your head with a smile at how cute they looked together. little did you know, an adventure was unfolding inside.

jay and yubin huddled together in the living room, surrounded by the warmth of the heater and the faint sound of delicate snowflakes hitting the window.

yubin wore her little ballet outfit, a mini bun perched on the crown of her head as she practiced her pirouettes.

jay on the other hand, was trying his best to keep up with her, although his ballet skills were definitely less refined.

“okay binnie, let’s try that spin again,” jay said, puffing slightly. “i think i’ve got it now.”

yubin giggled, her cheeks flushed with excitement as he watched her dad try to catch his breath from just a couple twirls.

“daddy, you’re doing great! but…”

“but what, sweetheart?” jay asked, glancing down at her with a raised brow.

“i think you need a tutu too!”

jay blinked. he hadn't anticipated that request. “a tu..tu? i don’t know if that’s a good idea honey...”

“pleeease, daddy?” yubin begged, giving him her best puppy eyes. “it’ll be so much fun!”

jay stared at his daughter for a moment, his heart swelling in his chest at the sight of her big round eyes staring up at him.

after a moment of thought, jay reluctantly sighed, giving in to her adorable plea. “alright, alright. if it’ll make you happy, i’ll wear a tutu.”

and with that, jay found himself sporting a frilly tutu that barely fit his hips, his face turning an adorable shade of pink to match the tutu. yubin clapped her hands in delight, twirling around in her own tutu.

“we're matching now daddy!” yubin cheered, jumping around in her ballet slippers.

jay laughed, looking down at the slight new change of wardrobe. it was definitely a combo to say the least, never in his life would he expect sweats to look so good with a tutu.

“isn't that right binnie?” he commented, extending his hand for yubin to take. “now, let's get back to those grand jeté's we were working on earlier eh?”

yubin squealed, immediately accepting his requests with the grasp of her tiny fingers and a wide smile plastered on her face.

“yes please!”

as they continued their ballet practice, the living room had turned into a makeshift stage for the two, with yubin and jay performing a whimsical ballet routine, the sweet melodies of the nutcracker adding the perfect touch to their chaotic performance.

“okay, let’s see your best grand jeté!” yubin called out, her tiny arms reaching out dramatically.

jay attempted a grand jeté, but ended up looking more like an enthusiastic baby goose learning to fly, his arms flailing in the air.

yubin giggled uncontrollably, trying to mimic her dad's moves with even more dramatizing flair.

they pranced around the living room for what seemed like hours, their tutus fluttering in sync with every twirl and leap. for jay’s sake, they would take periodic breaks throughout the practice.

during these breaks, yubin would watch in amusement as her dad rested his hands on his waist, desperately trying to regain his composure. let’s just say, it was like watching a wind-up toy wind down.

after what felt like ages, you were finally heading home. sure, the sweet jingle of christmas music and the warm smell of cinnamon from each errand stop were enduring, but what you were really looking forward to was being wrapped up in a warm, cozy blanket with the two people you love most.

as you pulled into the driveway, the house looked picture perfect against the snowy backdrop. you carried your bags inside, balancing them as you nudged the door open with your hip.

“i'm back!” you called out, kicking off your snowy boots and setting the bags down in the kitchen. “i got all the goodies!”

no response. now you were curious.

you walked further into the house slowly, following the sound of familiar classical music you knew all too well. peeking around the corner, you stopped in your tracks, eyes wide and mouth agape.

there, in the middle of the living room was your husband, in a bright pink tutu that barely fit his athletic build. matching his outfit was your daughter, her own tutu flaring out as she twirled around, her giggles a melody of their own. they were completely in the zone, unaware of your presence.

If you were being frank, the scene was too precious to interrupt. jay was trying to execute an arabesque, but his balance was off, making yubin laugh even more.

“come on, daddy! like this!” she demonstrated with the grace only a child could have, and jay tried again, a bit more successfully this time.

you couldn’t hold back your laughter any longer, and jay’s head practically spun at the sound, his face turning even redder from embarrassment.

“oh- hey honey! um, well, yubin wanted to practice ballet–” he explained, his voice trailing off at the end.

“don't stop on my account,” you teased, revealing yourself from behind the wall as you took in the scene before you in all it’s glory.

yubin ran over to you, her eyes shimmering with excitement.

“mommy, look! daddy's my ballet partner!”

you couldn't help but chuckle, kneeling down to hug your daughter. “i can see that," you commented through giggles, your gaze flickering towards your husband for a moment. “and I must say.. he's doing a pretty fantastic job.”

“why thank you.” jay answered. he tried to pull off a graceful bow, but from the energy he had just exerted to his recent performance with his daughter, he stumbled a bit.

you couldn't stop laughing, tears forming in your eyes. “oh, jay, you're a sight.”

jay grinned, walking over to join you and there daughter. “anything for our little princess. plus, i think i’ve found a new appreciation for tutus.”

later that evening, after yubin was tucked into bed, you and jay found yourselves cuddled on the couch, the soft glow of the christmas tree lights casting a warm glow to the room.

“you really made her day today, y'know,” you murmured, resting your head on jay's chest.

“well, that's what dads are for, right?” he replied, his fingers playing with a strand of your hair.

“i think you might have missed your calling as a ballet dancer,” you teased, nudging his side with your elbow.

jay laughed, pulling you closer. “i'll stick to my day job, thanks. but for yubin, i'd wear a tutu any day.”

you smiled, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. “and that's exactly why you’re so amazing.”

𝓢igning off... @pnghoon

── 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 [OPEN 🗯] @onlyhees @amouriu @greentulip @enhluv1 @samiikeu @hoonwhile @dearrwoni @won4kiss @jakesangel

[soxcietyy]

my request is yuta finding readers toys and testing it on her the next time they do the deed 🙏🙏

Rating’s

This is embarrassingly late, I’m so sorry 😭🙏🏼

Nobara comes over to your house with a mystery box just to be disappointed with the contents inside. Yuta shows up unexpected and seems very interested in it.

"Hey! Guess who finally got the goods! Can’t wait to see what’s in here." Nobara said as she stood in front of your door with a cardboard box in her hands. It took you a second to even figure out what in the world she was talking about. What plans could of you guys made that you had forgotten about?

Ah yes last week she had mentioned that she made a new friend who owned a company. He said that he needed people to review his new products before he could launch them in his shop. Before he could reveal what it was Nobara stopped him, telling the guy that she wanted it to be a surprise. She promised to run over here once she received the package so you guys could be surprised together.

"What do you think it could be? Clothes? Food? Candy? Skincare? Makeup?!" Nobara said excitedly as she squeezed passed you. She didn’t need permission to enter because she would barge in even if you said no.

Walking into your apartment she decided to put the box on the coffee table. A loud thud could be heard as it made contact with the glass top. She took a seat on the floor as she waited for you, excited to see what was inside. She almost looked like a kid eager to open there gift. That would have to wait a second though. Walking to the kitchen you grab some wine glasses and a bottle so you guys could enjoy together. Whatever it was would go perfectly with a cold bottle of wine.

"Hurry up!" She says as she crosses her arms.

Yyou let out a sigh as you lean on the island, then you tell her to open the tape up while you poured drinks.

"I’m so excited!" Nobara says as she pulls out her keys and drags it across the tape to tear it open. While she did that you opened the bottle and poured the drinks into the glass. Once you had finished you approach her and place the cups down. Nobara didn’t want to waste anymore time, she pulls you towards her so you could look above the box with her.

"Okay I’m going to open it in three, two, one."

She opens the box to reveal what’s inside. Both of you look at each other in shock. It was a box full of toys and they weren’t the kid friendly ones. You put your hand inside and pull out a pink silicone toy in the shape of a male body part. You couldn’t help but crack a smile at your friend.

"That disgusting monster!" She says in disbelief.

"Hey now, I’m sure he was going to tell you what it was before you stopped him." You say defending the man.

She rolls her eyes as she sits back down on the floor with her legs crossed. As she continued to pout you pull out some lube that was brand new and sealed. You quirk your brow as you read the flavor of the lube, popcorn… interesting.

"Common Nobara this isn’t bad at all! You don’t get laid enough so I think this could help you out." You tease.

"Ha Ha, very funny y/n" she stood up abruptly and started to walk away.

You furrow your brows as you turn to look at her. "Where are you going?" You ask

"I’m not intrested in this kind of stuff, you’ll probably use it well. Your man probably doesn’t satisfy you enough so have fun." She says throwing shade back. As she opens the door you see someone standing in the door way. Her jaw drops when she noticed it was Yuta.

Speak of the devil.

"Uh y/n … Yuta is here."

You quickly put everything back and kick the box on the floor behind you once you heard those words fall out her mouth. You had forgotten that he mentioned coming over today. You didn’t need him finding such things in your house, he’d get the wrong idea. You scramble to stand up with the glass of wine still in your hand. Taking a sip of your drink you run to the front door. To find him with a concerned look.

"You okay? You look pale." Yuta steps inside and holds your face to examine it.

You kindly put his hands down and assure him you’re fine. Your friend on the other hand had already made her escape. Seems like she didn’t want to be apart of what might happen in he finds the box.

Shutting the door behind him you watch him make his way to your couch. Maybe he would ignore the box. You had it closed so he wouldn’t open it right? He tends to respect your privacy after all.

You stood by the door watching him anxiously walk past the box. He took a seat and turned his attention to the tv that had drama playing. You sigh in relief seeing he had no interest in the box.

"You want some wine? Nobara didn’t even take a sip out of hers, it would be a waste." You say heading towards him.

"Yea I’ll drink it but could you please bring me some cheese and crackers? You know I cant have wine without them." He asks you nicely as he sat up from the couch to take a whiff of the wine.

You make your way in the kitchen and start making him his plate. While you did that you could hear him shuffling around, most likely getting comfortable. You couldn’t help but look over him a few times as you were occupied. Eventually you got fully focused on cutting the slices perfectly that you forgot to check on him. While cutting last bit of cheese you decide to look up but when you did the knife in your hand drops. Yuta was sitting on the couch with the box in his hands wide open.

He looked at you and the box back to back until he decided to place the box down to approach you. He had a concerned look on his face as he grabbed your hands.

"Am I not enough? You could told me this, no need to resort to that kind of stuff." He says with a sad tone.

You couldn’t help but stare blankly at him.

"N-no! Yuta you have the wrong idea. Nobara came over to drop thoes off so me and her could test them out." You say panicked.

You watch as his jaw drop from disbelief. Of course you worded it wrong. "Her friend owns a company and they have these new products! He needs a review before he drop it. Of course we’re not going to test them out together! Apart because we’re not like that."

He drops your hand feeling at ease with your answer.

"I’m relieved but you’re going to use these on your own? I doubt you would know how to use them." Yuta said as he walked to the box and pulled out a rose toy. Turning it in different directions so he could get a good look at the weird contraption.

"I’m more than capable of figuring it out." You roll your eyes.

He stalks back towards you as he held a wand vibrator in his hands. Bringing it near him mouth to use it as a microphone. "Two reviews are better than one." Yuta says as in the "mic" .

Putting the wand down next to the cutting board he pulls out the rose, clearly being interested in that one the most. He lifted you up and sat you on the counter you down on the counter. Pulled your night gown up as he tried to figure out how to turn on the flower.

Grabbing it from his hand you slowly direct your finger towards the power button so he could see. Once you pressed it, it started to vibrate in your hands letting out a humming noise. He quickly grabbed it to feel the vibration in his hands. A small smile appeared on his face as he put it against his hand.

"This has power." He says as he felt how strong and fast it was. Bring his hand down he tried to put it against your privates but you stopped him by covering the area.

"You’re not going to wash it first?" You looked at him.

He quickly turned on the faucet that was next to you and washed it with soap and water. He came back immediately to not ruin the mood. He then brings up the toy to his mouth and begins to lick it.

You were in disbelief from his actions. He was licking it and swirling his tongue on it as he pulled your panties to the side. He then pressed it on you once he was satisfied with the wet coat he had just created it. You jolt at the sudden vibration it created. You bite your cheek as you grab into his shoulder for support. You never really used something like this because there was no need. Yuta managed to satisfy your needs easily so this was entirely new to you.

Yuta would gradually go fast and faster until you were at your climax but this toy got to the point. It didn’t take long before your legs are shaking and your grip on him tightened. You begged him to not press it up your bran to hard but he didn’t listen. Instead he studied your facial expressions and mocked you when you would open your mouth from pleasure. Asking if you like this better than him.

You would shake your head but he didn’t stop. He was clearly trying to teach you some sort of lesson but it wasn’t getting quite through. Not even ten minutes passed and you were orgasming in his hand.

"Five stars" he says as he walks away.

While you try to catch your breath you find him Infront of you once again. You were surprised he came back so quickly. He saw your struggle to get down so he helped you down with one hand. You lean onto him as you try to regain your composure but he gave you little to no time as he bent you over the counter and shoved something in you.

You gasp at the sudden familiar feeling of being full. It wasn’t as filling as you were used to taking but it still felt amazing Turning back at him you see Yuta with an intrigued look. He pulled out the object out of you and slammed it back inside. You let out a loud cry from pleasure. He then pulls it in and out in a steady pace as he watched you squirm. You beg him to slow down In between moans.

You try to grip onto the counter as he pounded you with the toy. Hitting the right spot over and over again.

"This mouth was so hungry for something huh? Look at her drooling all over this toy." Yuta says as your juices run down his hand. You close your eyes out of embarrassment. Your legs loosing the will to support you in the process. Yuta was quick to catch you before you could fall.

He ended up paying on the couch While resting your body on his chest. You relaxed in his embrace until you felt the toy go back inside you. You look up at him with an annoyed look.

"What? We need to rate this toy. Won’t be possible until you finish." He kisses your head as continued were he left off. You grip his shirt as he started slamming the silicone toy in you. Body jolting everytime he dug it deep inside your body. Was he really planning on testing everything out on you? There was no way anyone could go through such a box. That’s at least twenty five orgasms in one go.

Another orgasm rippled through your body. You moan out his name as you grab his arm that was helping move the toy in and out of you.

"Seven, took you way too long to orgasm. Even I can do it in less time, it got the job done though. 3 stars."

"No more" you croak out in desperation.

"Why not? We just got started." Yuta sits you on you couch.

You pull your dress down with a flushed face.

"I can do the rest in my own with my own pace. Plus these toys are usually meant for self pleasure. It wouldn’t be fair to rate them together." You say hoping that wound stop him from continuing.

"Oh" he says "then masturbate with them."he says.

"I will, eventually." You say as you grab the toy Yuta was using as a microphone not too long ago.

"Do it right now, Infront of me." He tilts his head.

You look at him shocked.

"I couldn’t possibl-"

He grabs your hand with the toy and pushes it down there. You swallow hard as he looked into your eyes.

"I won’t touch you. I won’t bother you." He smiles as he sits on the couch opposite from you. "I’ll just sit here."

You bite your lip as he tells you to go on. You have no choice but to listen. Pulling your panties down you put your legs on the couch. Spreading them apart until he had a full view of everything. You watch as his hands roam on his pants. Caressing his member that rested under those pants.

Closing your eyes you turn on the device and put it on your bud. You let out a shameful moan out immediately because you were already so sensitive. You rubbed it up and down your area. Hips rolling back and forward from pleasure.

It felt so good but something was missing. You couldn’t think of what it could be. Maybe more of a stronger vibration? A faster speed? A better shape? Or maybe it was the man Infront of you.

You let out whimpers as you open your eyes too look at him. He was sitting down watching you pleasure yourself from afar. Eyes not looking away from you even for a second. You couldn’t help but wish for him to touch you and to do more.

"Yut-a" you flutter your eyes at him.

He tried his best not to respond since he said he wasn’t going to bother you but the look you were giving him made him turn on his words.

"Yes baby?" He asks.

"I want you to do it form me." You say.

Yutas leg jolted from excitement but he knew he shouldn’t. Still he stood up and approached you. Sitting on the floor right in front of you.

"Common baby you can do it." He says moving your hand a bit lower so you could get a better position on it. The small movement made a huge difference. You were now squirming like crazy. Legs twitching uncontrollably. All that came out your mouth now was your moaning and small profanity’s. Yutas name coming out time by time which he loved.

"Such a good girl, come for me no?"

He said as he kissed your thighs up and down, trying not to intervene too much. You cry out his name once more as you came. Body completely shutting down on you. Yuta was quick to move the toy out the way and bury his face in between your legs.

"Y-Yuta!?" You squeal

You tried to push him away but he was not moving until he decided he was. He ended up eating you out until he left you clean.

"Sorry I couldn’t help myself."

[sanguineterrain]

Sanne can we get a part 2 for reporter!reader?? Picking up where it first left off their first night in the same home - and there's only 1 bed! - and reader shares the bed with him with the promise of not looking at his unmasked face in the middle of the night? And like them realizing over the next few days that they have very similar habits like tendencies to work throughout the night once they've got a lead and not having a set sleep schedule/unconventional sleeping hours.

OKAY HERE WE GO! be fed my lovelies <3 didn't exactly do one bed but hopefully you like it anyway ;) pt 2 of this

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. nightmares, hurt/comfort, jason sexy mf todd being a domestic dreamboat. 2.4k. pls enjoy

****

The Red Hood's apartment is... not at all what you expected.

It looks lived in. It, as awful a thought as it is, looks like an actual person lives here.

And it's not that you didn't know that Hood has a life outside of shooting and scaring, but the giant ficus and the overstuffed bookshelf seem paradoxical to everything you know about Hood.

You're realizing that you don't know him at all.

"So, uh." Hood awkwardly gestures to the apartment. "This is it. Welcome."

"It's nice," you say, stepping over the threshold. "Really nice. I'm a little jealous, Red."

"What can I say? Being public enemy number one is surprisingly lucrative."

You wander to the kitchen. There's a picture of him and a red-headed masked man who looks vaguely familiar. The man is smiling, his arm around Hood. There's a city skyline behind them you don't recognize.

"Where's that?" you ask. You don't expect him to answer.

"Morocco."

"I didn't know you had friends," you say, studying the Welcome to Vegas! magnet that's holding up the picture.

"Ouch."

"No, I—" You turn, shaking your head. "Sorry, no. I meant, like, people you do fun things with."

"Mm, yeah, I know what a friend is."

"Red, you know what I mean. I didn't know you took selfies and kept plants and read."

"Thought I was friendless and illiterate, huh?" He leans against the kitchen table, fist tucked under his helmet. "Y'wouldn't be the first."

"Hood—"

He snorts, shoulders shaking. You stop.

"That's not funny," you say, rolling your eyes. "Jerk."

"It's a little funny. You're always so sharp with your words, smartypants. No, while I'm very literate, friends are admittedly far and few. Arsenal's my closest friend."

"Is he also a crime lord?"

"Nah. Way better guy than me."

You look back at the picture and wonder how often Hood gets to experience joy. And when was the last time he had a vacation?

You feel a gentle tug at the back of your jacket.

"C'mon. You can snoop more later, promise. Lemme show you your room."

Hood takes your suitcase before you can protest. You follow him down the hall. There's one door to the bathroom—the other is to a single bedroom.

The bedroom is nice, bigger than yours at home. It's sort of what you expected (i.e., the mounted katanas on the wall) but also not (a giant framed poster of the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film).

Holy hell. You're in the Red Hood's bedroom.

"Hood, I can't sleep here," you say, watching as he puts your suitcase in the corner.

The bed has been made, sheets tucked in without a single wrinkle. They're in various shades of red. You're sure Hood thinks he's hilarious.

"Why? If the swords are putting you off, I can move 'em."

"No, it's—I can't take your room, Hood. There's no way I'm doing that."

He shakes his head. "No, trust me, it's for the best. That couch is only comfortable to sleep on after a dose of painkillers."

"Dude, I am not making you sleep on the couch in your own house."

"Well, dude, I'm the host, and I'm the big and scary Red Hood, so what I say goes."

"Like either one of us actually believes that," you say, brushing past him to grab your suitcase. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed. It's–it's very sweet of you to offer. But you physically exert yourself every day. You need a comfortable bed more than I do. Besides, it's not like I'll be here for long."

Hood steps in front of you, casually blocking your exit.

"Well, try this on for size: my room is more secure than my living room," he says. "If someone were to break in, they'd have to get through me out there first."

That... is, unfortunately, a good point. You're still extremely paranoid after the assassination attempt two nights ago.

"You're so manipulative, y'know that?" you grumble, leaving your suitcase where it is.

"I know. I come from a real fucked up family." He doesn't sound too put out by it.

"But if you get injured on patrol, I'm sleeping on the couch."

He pats your shoulder. "'S cute you think you can bargain in my house, smarty."

****

Dinner goes well. Hood makes beef bolognese and it's delicious. You take an extra long time in the bathroom before bed so Hood has enough time to eat, considering his refusal to remove his helmet. You'd offered to blindfold yourself—he'd just laughed.

"Sure you don't want your room? It is, after all, yours," you say when you come out, fresh from your shower.

Hood glances at you briefly from where he's washing dishes. He's out of his jacket and suit, now only in jeans and a white t-shirt. Your face feels hot for some reason.

"I'm sure. Cute robe."

"Oh." You look down at the Wonder Woman robe your friend gave you. "Thanks. Got it for my birthday."

"I'll have to get myself one too," Hood says, drying a glass with a polka dot tea towel. "Big Wonder Woman fan."

"Yeah? We solve this case, and I'll get you all the robes you want, Red."

"Tempting."

You chew your lip as you watch him clean up. "Want any help?"

"Go to sleep, star reporter." He sounds amused.

"You try to be a polite guest only to get shot down..." you mumble.

On your way to Hood's room, you get distracted by a pile of documents on the coffee table. You stop, picking up the corner to read one. They're about the case, about all the labs that might be involved in the experiments.

Well... you can read just one. It seems like Hood's compiled a lot of information on his own.

You stand for a bit until your legs grow tired. Then you sit on the couch, making notes of what you do and don't know on a nearby writing pad.

"Did you get lost?"

Hood's watching you, leaning against the wall. It's weird to see his bare arms. His very sculpted, muscled arms. You think you peek a tattoo on his bicep.

"My attention was caught," you say, unrepentant. "Anyway, there's a lot of stuff I haven't seen. You've been holding out on me, Red."

"'S just theories, mostly. Didn't feel it was relevant to mention without hard proof."

"Ever hear of a work-life balance?" you ask.

Hood walks over and joins you on the couch, making the cushion dip. You bump shoulders briefly, before you move.

"Look who's talking, Pulitzer prize," he says.

"That's a very reasonable goal, and I'm not obsessed with it. You're just a workaholic. I have activities outside of wo—oh my God, work!"

You shoot up from the couch, panicked. "Fuck. Fuck! I haven't shown up in two days! I'm—"

"Hey, easy," Hood says, propping his socked feet up on the coffee table. "I called you out. Said you had the flu. No biggie."

"How did you call me out?"

He shrugs. "Pretended to be your boyfriend. Girl on the line was kinda rude about it. Didn't believe me at first."

"Red, I believe we've talked about these invasions of privacy."

"I'm just fulfilling my host duties. Is it true you haven't taken a day off in two years?"

You sigh. "Yes, okay? Fine. I'm a workaholic, too. That's why Jane, the secretary you spoke to, was so sassy about my having a boyfriend. It's pretty unbelievable."

"That's ridiculous. You could totally get a boyfriend. Some guys don't mind that."

"Like you?"

Hood tilts his head in acknowledgment. "Sure. Like me."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly most men."

"And thank God for that."

You look at each other for another moment. Hood's tattoo is in clear view now: it's a bird surrounded by flowers. You can't tell the species of either one.

"Cool tattoo," you say, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth.

Hood turns his arm so the ink is hidden. "Thanks."

"Right." You start to walk backwards. "I think... I'm gonna go to bed."

"Sure," he says. "If y'need anything, holler."

"'Kay. Thank you for dinner. You're a great cook."

"You flatterer."

You smile. "Gotta stay in the Red Hood's good graces."

You start to walk away.

"Do you—waffles?"

You stop and turn. "Sorry?"

"I, uh... do you like waffles? For breakfast," he says. He rubs his thumb and forefinger together. Nervous habit.

"I love waffles for breakfast."

Hood nods. "Great. Good. Then I'll... we'll have those."

"Please don't wake up early just to make breakfast, Red."

"You're my guest. I'll do whatever I want."

You don't recall the prospect of waffles ever making your heart hammer in your chest. Weird.

"Right. Well, goodnight," you say.

"G'night, smarty."

****

You turn the case details in your mind over and over. It's better than thinking about beef bolognese and peeks of skin you shouldn't see and how Hood's sheets smell like lavender.

But you fall asleep thinking about robins. You don't know why. You can't recall ever seeing a robin in Gotham.

You're on a rooftop. It's the roof you met Hood on, all those months ago. There's a robin nesting with its babies on the crumbling bricks.

The sky is a sick shade of green. You see horrible faces in the shadows on the roof.

That face from the night of the attack returns. He's hideous. You remember the stench of his breath, the way his eyes bulged. He grins at you across the roof.

"He should've killed me when he had the chance," he says, voice distorted.

You look around. The robin is gone. Blood drips from your stomach.

You turn and your attacker is there, inches away. He plunges the knife into you again and again. You can't move. This is it. You will die.

You wake up to wet cheeks. You're hot, and you're screaming. You've died.

A cool, rough hand grabs your arm and you fight because you can't die, you won't die. Not today.

"Hey. Hey, hey! It's me, 's J—Hood. It's Hood."

The room is almost entirely dark, save for a sliver of light from the cracked curtains. You can't make out his face. His voice is different. Clearer. He's without his helmet.

You reach out and feel soft hair. The curve of a neck. A bicep. A warm, bare chest.

"Sure, honey. Cop a feel if that makes you feel better," he murmurs.

Your face screws up and you start to cry.

"Shit," Hood whispers. "Shit, shit. Can't get the comforting thing right, can I?"

The bed dips with his weight. Arms wrap around you. You launch yourself into those arms, that solid chest.

"He g-got me in the dream," you choke out. "He killed us, Red. I'm so scared."

"Nobody's getting me or you. I promise."

Hood's jaw is smooth. His hands are big on your back, rubbing circles. His bare knee bumps yours.

You clutch him tighter. He hums.

"'S okay," he says. "It's alright. I got ya. He can't hurt you. I'd tear apart anyone who tries."

He lets you cry for several minutes, petting you all the while. Hood's body is warm, almost unnaturally so, but his hands are cool. He engulfs you completely.

You wonder what color his hair is. His eyes. What shape his nose is. His... lips.

"God, I'm a terrible guest," you mumble after you've caught your breath. "Fuck. I'm so sorry to wake you."

He hums, the sound going through your chest. "Don't worry. I don't sleep much. And you're not the worst guest I've had. My brother stayed with me for a few days last month. That was hell."

"You have a brother?"

"Four, actually. And a sister."

"Wow. Do they know you're...?"

"Yeah. It was a whole thing. They're over it now."

"Cool family."

Hood grunts. "They're... something."

You smile and close your eyes. "You're not who I thought you were, Red."

"Yes, I know. Friendless and illiterate."

You pinch his side. He clucks his tongue in response.

"Cheeky," he says, the gravel in his voice shooting down your spine like lightning.

You pull back, suddenly aware of how long you've been touching him. Hood lets you have your space, scooting to the edge of the bed.

"You know what I mean," you say, glad it's dark and Hood can't see your wide eyes. "Not like that."

"I know. You thought I was a monster, ugly and alone, sleeping in a cave."

Blindly, you reach for his face, feel the shape of his jaw, his chin.

"Doesn't feel like an ugly face to me," you say quietly.

He exhales like you punched the air out of him.

"Trust me," he says. "The dark hides a lot."

You frown and pull away. "I didn't think any of those things, Red. I thought... I thought you were one-track minded. Now I realize that you're probably better adjusted than I am."

"Oh no, I got issues. Believe me. Definitely more than you. Not that it's a competition. 'Cept if it was, I'd win."

You smile. "Title is all yours, big guy. Gotta be a little crazy to do what we do."

"Sure. But you're the bravest soul I know. 'Cause you weren't forced into this. You hunted down the story yourself."

"Brave or stupid?" you ask.

"Brave. But it's a fine line."

Nope. It's definitely more stupid than not, clinging to the Red Hood in his own bed in the name of a case.

What are you doing?

"Ah, anyway." The bed shifts as Hood stands. You can just barely make out the shape of him. "You probably won't be going back to sleep any time soon, huh?"

You sigh. "No, probably not. Please feel free to take back your bed."

"Nice try. You, uh... like hot chocolate?"

"Oh. Yes, I do. But you don't have to do that."

"I've been awake," he says. "No trouble. C'mon."

Hood walks to the door and opens it. Light spills out and for a moment, you have a clear view of his back.

His hair is dark and wavy. His back is covered in silver scars and fresh bruises, broad and muscled. You can see the tendons shift as he walks out.

The Red Hood is a man. Made of flesh and blood. Carved, more like.

Your belly flutters. Fuck.

This is no longer just you working a case. And you're about as far from an informant as anyone can be.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"my girlfriend's a nerd" ft. the monster trio!

self explanatory self-indulgent drabbles to soothe my book!loving ass

ft. luffy, zoro and sanji x fem! reader set-up: you like books, he likes you that's it warnings: none lmao this is very sfw. one might call it wholesome even. m.list

luffy:

thats my baby ^^

— im not even sure if this mf can read 😭😭

— honestly 9/10 chance he can't but when has that ever stopped him from being our most supportive himbo king

— go king give us everything!!

— he doesn't get why you read books when instead you can be like sleeping or eating or looking at the sea but well, he doesn't question it

— he just thinks it's a weird hobby you have (i don't think he's aware of how freakishly illiterate he is)

— but just cause he thinks it's weird that doesn't mean he wouldn't hug you half-asleep when he hears you sobbing into the dead of the night or he wouldn't listen with keen interest when you explain the plot of your favourite book as he wraps his arms around you and hums into your hair

— will 100% offer to fight the author/ tear up the book everytime he sees you having a breakdown over a particular scene/character

"who should I kill?!" the deadpan seriousness in his voice is what terrifies you

"nobody! I'm okay–"

— after you explain to him that hurting somebody is not necessary and you're fine, he will try to coddle you with extended hugs and food (lots and lots and lots of food).

"yn you should eat something! should I get you something to eat??" you can hear the panic in this poor boys voice 😭😭

"no luffy, its okay. im fine!" you say through sniffs and snorts, eyes bloodshot from crying over ink on paper

"brb" and he gets you dinner enough for 5 people because that's how he knows to comfort you (willingly took sanjis kicks and namis punches to accomplish this mission)

— since he's a clingy little child, he will hold onto you some way or the other when you're reading

— you're reading in your room while he's fast asleep? his arm is draped across your waist lazily. you're on the other side of the deck, sunbathing and reading? his hand is stretched out from where he's sitting and on your thigh (ussop tripped thrice over his hand, rip god ussop 🙏) . you're reading during breakfast cause the book just got so good? his toe is rubbing your calf up and down periodically (he won't stop no matter how many weird looks you give him)

— conclusion: he doesn't at all get it what it is, but if it makes you happy he will spend all the berries in the world to buy you those books (plz know if you actually ask him to jokingly off an author for killing your favourite character, he will do it. please don't ask him that.)

— he's just so supportive and nice 😭😭

"my girlfriends a nerd, I love her" (ussop explained to him what a nerd was and now he's introducing you like this to everybody)

zoro:

the shades tho 😎

— I'm convinced this mf can't read either

— even he can there's like literally no evidence to prove it and the entire crew has come to the conclusion that he gets lost even with clear directions because he just can't read please 😌👌

— at the start, he actually thinks it's dead stupid to invest so much time reading books when you can do other stuff like getting stronger, sleeping, literally doing anything else (luffy backs up his opinion with full enthusiasm)

— i mean like he's seen you sob at 7 in the morning over breakfast cause your fav character died and now he's confused as to why are you spending money and buying books if they make you cry so hard (he doesn't understand the concept of angst im afraid)

— but over time he just accepts it as something you enjoy and well, if it makes you happy then who is he to question it?

— acts like he doesn't care/isn't listening when you're rambling about the plot and how thE MAIN CHARACTER IS IN LOVE WITH HIS ENEMY AND VICE VERSA SKEJFHSJKSN but is actually fully listening

— he's actually invested at one point

"but they are enemies? why does he wanna be with him?"

"you don't get it! thats the appeal!!"

"the appeal is forcing a knife on somebody's throat?" he's laughing, "as if you'd enjoy it if i threatened you with my swords"

"... i would actually enjoy that"

he is now asking nami for loan to send you to a therapist (nami has seen you nosebleed over fictional characters and is considering giving money away to zoro for free. you really do need help.)

— as I said, he's invested now (although he does question your taste every now and then) but he'd force you to either summarize the plot to him as he trains or read out loud so he can hear the story as it goes.

— so naturally you're now sitting on his back, reading out loud as he does push-ups

— this beloved himbo has now formed strong opinions about characters and will battle you with headcanons because "there's no fucking way the hero would ever go back to the villain after that! that's ridiculous! if he does I'll sell my swords off."

— will remember the stuff you told him, no matter how trivial, so if you get off an island and he spots a keychain from your fav book series he's spending whatever money he has left to buy you it

"oh excellent choice! who are you buying it for?" the shopkeeper lady questions aloud

"oh, my girlfriend." he's smiling, "my girlfriends a nerd."

— actually looks forward to you telling him all the plot details and jokes at this point (one might call him a part of the fandom now)

— when you're a crying, sobbing mess because a character died, he's genuinely comforting you (no matter how bad he is at it)

"yn it's okay, you want some sake?" he is hugging you, patting your head like you're a child

"no 😭😭" you sob harder into his chest

"well... that's the best i can offer"

he tried. it's not his fault you don't wanna drink your feelings away.

— conclusion: he started off thinking its stupid and now he's an honorary nerd. would never admit it though. stubborn asshole.

sanji:

he's actually so pretty tho ^^

— he actually liked reading books before you even joined the crew although his tbr consists of cookbooks and auto-biographies about the people he has some interest in

— he started reading so that he could impress zeff with his knowledge on cooking and other miscellaneous stuff (imagine kid!sanji reading a book till late night under a lamp cause he wants to impress his old man that's so cute 😭😭)

— respects your hobbies when he finds out you like reading

— and then he sees your book collection. whY ARE THERE LIKE 5000 BOOKS HERE?! NOW HES SCARED FOR YOUR SANITY CAUSE GIRL WTF

— he hears you recommend a book to robin/nami once and now he's running to the nearest bookstore on the next island you guys land on to buy it

— he obviously did it to impress you and win you over but goddamn that book was actually pretty nice. so, the next time he asks you for recommendations he's actually a bit sincere

— now you're both in a book club of your own (which makes luffy mad cause why are you leaving him out of conversations :/)

— like zoro, he often asks for updates on the book you're currently reading while he cooks everyone food. he loves hearing you talk about the things you like.

— when he sees you crying over books, he is making you sweet stuff to soothe you, holding you and rubbing your back supportingly, peppering kisses to make you feel better

— he's so fine 😫😫

— anyways, also def the kind of person to ask you to roleplay things in real life

"yn-saaaan" his voice is bubbly, "can i ask you something?"

"mhm?"

"the last book you read–" his face is going a little bit red, "you think we can maybe... do that irl?"

now it's your turn to go red

— but no fr, he's so so supportive of your little hobby like yes baby! read those books and have fun imagining people in your head

— 100% matches your vibe when you crush on fictional characters cause "you're right. he is actually very attractive" (a bi king we love)

— once zoro made fun of you for reading and this was his response: "you can't even read, mosshead. the next time you speak shit I'll kick your ass."

"who said I CANT READ? AND AS IF ILL LET YOU KICK MY ASS!"

"I TOTALLY WILL KICK YOUR ASS"

now they are fighting while ussop, luffy and chopper laugh in the background

— but yes he loves staying up late, reading with you before you both cuddle and fall asleep

— you once read about a specific sort of dish in a book and mentioned that it sounds delicious so now obviously he has to go make that dish. it doesn't matter if it's 1 am at night.

— when nami asks him what he's cooking, he just smiles and shrugs, "i dunno either, im just trying to make yn happy. she's such a nerd"

— conclusion: an enabler, an enthusiast. this man is ready to buy you books and then read them if it makes you happy. only the finest for his favourite lady <3

a/n: enjoy my wayward thoughts about these fine men! m.list

[7brownsuga7]

bts x idol!gf headcanons pls!!

i’ve been loooving ur bts boyfriend headcanons so far! ur so talented

Omg thank you so much 🫶🏽 I actually enjoyed writing this. Here you go & enjoy! <3

Namjoon:

• Tries to be discreet with your dating but will accidentally leave hints like some of your merch/stuff in the background of his pics/lives.

• Paparazzi pics in museums & galleries. Definitely off guard

• Always in touch when the other is away.

• Will publicly share your music/projects. Is a big supporter

• Spotting’s in clubs. Shades on dancing the night away. Y’all are definitely the talk of the night

• You both subtly post things on your story that insinuates that you both might be dating. Same location, same background, posting pics at same event or place. Posting songs that relate to each other.

• You both definitely talk through your stories. Talking to each other through songs or silly captions etc

Jin:

• Will shut down any bad rumour about you. Very defensive when it comes to you.

• Big supporter and is at all of your shows/events cheering you on if he can.

• Goes on live wearing your merch

• Lives where both of you are cooking together and bickering with each other about who’s better or who does it right.

• Idk I can see y’all presenting together?!! And kinda teasing each other. (I see this before you start dating. And this causes speculation which kind of initiates both of you dating??)

• You both definitely post pics of each other being a mess. Off guard pics 100%

Yoongi:

• Song covers while he plays the instrumental for you on his guitar or piano

• Will stick up for you and will shut down any bad rumour about you. Very defensive when it comes to you. And if you're getting hate he's gonna make sure it's dealt with

• Very protective when out in public together. Is like your own little personal bodyguard and will hold your hand and lead you away from the paparazzi/fans

• Will go on live and call out everyone for your fan edits. Even though he acts like he doesn’t like it he blushes and secretly saves them.

• He’s caught with your picture as his lockscreen

Hobi:

• Loads of dance videos and choreographies.

• Lives where you both are just dancing and vibing in the practice room.

• Duet video dance covers that he begs you to do

• Cameos in each others MVs

• Has your merch. Has your photocard hanging on his jeans or bag for sure.

• Is spotted with your initials painted on his fingernails

• Always showing you off to the cameras with a big grin on his face. Showing your photocard, merch, his lockscreen of you, showing his nails or any jewellery with your initials on it.

• Taking selfies with your posters/adverts with a big smile on his face. Or even will do a little freestyle dance in front of it lmfao

Jimin:

• Cameos in each others projects. Him more so in yours.

• Will talk about you in his lives. Will purposely make up a comment and read it out and then go on a whole rant about you. Will get shy and then wave it off

• Duet video covers that you beg him to do

• Posting pics with the same background/location so people know you're together

• Likes every and any fan edit of you both.

• You both are always spotted on little dates like cafes, pottery painting or just casual walks

• You both wear matching jewellery that he picked out himself

• Taking selfies with your posters/adverts with a happy proud smile on his face and the most sentimental and encouraging paragraph

Taehyung:

• Cameos in each others projects/MVs

• Loads of leaked messages of y'all being messy

LFMAO.

• Loads of photo shoots from him. He loves being your personal photographer

• Will purposely like and interact with any conspiracies and speculations about you dating. (Before you both went public with your relationship)

• He will beg you to go on variety shows together. He sees it as something fun. I can see you both bickering during the recording and making fun of each other/ teasing. You both would kill it though even though you don’t take it seriously you’d probably end up doing great in the games.

• Public outing spottings. You guys are always seen out together holding hands or him with his arm around you. You guys always stop for pictures.

• You both wear matching jewellery to symbolise your relationship

• Y’all are always caught kissing in public. So many pictures have been leaked

Jungkook:

• Paparazzi pics of your date nights. Holding hands and running away from the paparazzi/fans as a game

• Very sneaky and lowkey. Like you're known to be dating but you're very sneaky with it. Always hiding from paparazzi and not really speaking about your relationship publicly.

• But will publicly stick up for you if there's rumours going around or hate. He's shutting that shit down

• Duet cover videos that you guys randomly post that has the fans going insane

• Hot dance covers. Y’all both being sweaty having re-recorded many times due to fuck ups, teasing and getting distracted iykwim ;)

• Always FaceTiming and calling when either of you are away. You both miss each other so much and you can't go without communicating. He literally will keep on messaging you if you don't respond

• Fan edits go crazy and he eats it up every time. He’s obsessed with watching them.

• I can imagine him calling you during his promotion sketch videos. Seen giggling on the phone to you, excited to talk to you after his promotions. Sometimes you might even make a cameo in them

• You’re always seen discretely wearing his clothes

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club - Part 3

Pairing: Grid X Reader, Lance X Reader

Summary: lewis get a new song inspired by one of the book they read that week, a little lance relationship focused as well

a/n: even as an avid reader, i struggle so much choosing books for this 🥲, sorry if this one sucks

requests open 🫶✨ masterlist

—————————

“Alright boys, get ready to swoon!” You pull out copies of your chosen book, The Dead Romantics. After reading classics and adventure, and thrillers, you chose chick-lit. It had been recommended on other book club chatboards, so you deemed it safe for the guys.

“Same time, same place next week,” Daniel grabs a book and walks out. The rest file out of the motor home, books in hand. You follow Fernando to Aston Martin.

“Lance, your girlfriend is here for you,” Fernando calls for him before you can. “Good choice, I enjoyed this one the last time I read it,” Fernando says before walking to his room, leaving you stunned.

“Hello, mon cœur,” Lance kisses you before grabbing your hand and taking you to his room.

“What is the book this week,” He asks once you cuddle up on the couch. Since he found out about the club, he’s been reading the books with you.

“The Dead Romantics, first one to finish gets to choose the next date,” you hand him his copy before starting your own. Lance’s assistant brings in coffees and breakfast for you both while you read.

“When we get married, would you change your last name, combine ours, let me take yours, or leave our names as is,” Lance asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Hmm, I like the sound of Y/n Stroll, but maybe I’ll still race under my name,” you decide, paying attention to the books, thinking about the predetermined discussion questions.

“Fuck,” Lance groans after his phone went off, quickly bookmarking his page.

“What’s wrong baby?” you ask, bookmarking yours as well.

“I have a meeting with Dad in a few minutes,”

“Oh, want me to come along? I love your dad,” you run your fingers through his fluffy hair.

“It’s okay, it’ll take a while. You are more than welcome to stay here or go and get ready for the drivers parade. Either way, I will see you after,” he kisses you before gathering a couple things and heading out. You finish another chapter and head to your motorhome, dressing yourself in team gear and redoing your hair. Lance waits for you outside your team garage.

By next week, you both have finished the book and have been raving about it to people, you even sent a copy to George. You won the challenge, although you were sure Lance let you win.

“Have fun at your meeting, you are literally bouncing in excitement,” Lance laughs, kissing the side of your head and leaving you in front of Haas’ hospitality. You quickly find the club, who are equally happy with your pick.

“That was the best romance book I’ve read in a while,” Daniel starts off.

“It was my second time reading it. Much better than the first time,” Fernando agrees.

“And the plot twist!” Nico gasps, all of you nodding along.

“I wrote a song about it,” Lewis says nonchalantly, causing you all to pause.

“Lew… what?” You can’t imagine how one would write a song about it. The book was good, but it wasn’t Shakespeare.

“Yeah, the broken hearts, the forbidden nature of their love, separated by the paranormal, the spiciness of the ending. It inspired me, almost like all those songs for Fifty Shades of Grey,” Lewis explains.

“I don’t know how that would work, but I am sure that you made it work,” Kevin says as Lewis pulls out his phone.

You heard some of his music before, and you knew he could sing and his writing was pretty good. Unfortunately, this was not the case. The singing was great, but the lyrics were a little too… sappy for his style. It wasn’t even sensual, he was just singing about falling in love with someone you shouldn’t.

“That was great, Lewis,” Daniel encourages Lewis,

“If racing doesn’t work out, maybe you will have a career in music,” Valtteri offers, maybe you were the only one who wasn’t a fan.

“He already does, he was featured on a song,” Fernando rushes to pull it up on his phone. You swear he is the proud father of everyone in the room.

“Oh! We should do karaoke!” you gasp, excited at the thought.

“I like the way you think,” Daniel grins at you. It is usually never a good thing when you both get excited about an idea, it tends to end up with alcohol and regret, but never fails to be fun.

“My liver can take that right now, I would participate,” Checo says, leading the group in agreeing.

You and the other drivers rent out a bar the next night and make sure karaoke is set up, Lando DJs in the meantime.

“I’m going to sing my song!” Lewis tells you over your jolly rancher shots.

“Slay!” you cheers the shots, tap the glass to the bar, and take the shot. “I think I’m gonna sing Post Malone,” you reply, and Lewis drags you to sign up. Lance appears beside you, slipping an arm around your waist as he looks at the paper.

“Babe, what song is ‘Why Don’t You Love Me’, I have never seen it on an album,” Lance asks and you tell him its origin. “Oh, that’s funny, I’ll film it,” he writes both of your names down for Total Eclipse of the Heart.

A few shots later and Lewis kicks it off with his song, it is actually a lot better drunk. You follow him up with the meme song, getting everyone laughing, before Lance joins you. The two of you surprisingly sounded very good when you rewatched the video the next day, then posted it to your Instagram story.

“Never. Again.” Kevin groans the next morning as Valtteri walks in, excited to talk with the group.

“That was fun! When are we doing that again?”

[riekirei]

retroactive. — nishimura riki

“it’d be easier if you just didn’t ask, but it’d also be easier if she wasn’t his last.”

pairing: boyfriend!riki x afab!reader | genre(s): angst | content/warning: both riki and reader are of legal age in this work, consumption of alcohol, mentions of getting drunk, riki calls reader baby and vice versa

word count: 1.8k

author’s note: i’m back from the dead, hi guys. i hope you enjoy reading thisss. please ignore any typos or grammatical errors (if there are any) and lmk if i missed any warnings.

[🎧 now playing: did you like her in the morning? by NIKI]

you slipped your shoes on, heading out the door. you were on your way to yongsan-gu to accompany your boyfriend, riki, to a get-together at a pub with his friends. it wasn’t really your thing to go out drinking with your boyfriend and a few other people at around 10 pm at night, but you agreed to go.

riki said he’d meet you at a nearby landmark in yongsan-gu as it’d take him just a few minutes to get there since the building he works at was in the district. you call a taxi and make your way there. the ride to the district was short, it took around 20 minutes considering how late in the night it was and how you were just within seoul anyway.

the moment you step out of the vehicle, you walked around for quite a bit before you spotted riki, who stood by a bus stop, leaning on its shade, waiting for you to arrive. you ran up to him, hugging him from behind. riki quickly turned around and greeted you with a big smile on his face. “am i late?” you ask, looking up at him. “nope, looks like your just on time” he responds, showing you the time on his phone’s lockscreen. he wrapped his arm around you and rested his hand on your shoulder. “the pub’s nearby, actually. let’s get going” he says. “okay baby” you reply, taking his hand off your shoulder and locking it with yours as you walk.

after around 5 minutes of walking, you two finally reached the pub. the neon sign fixed on the pub’s entrance flickered and the chatter of people from inside brought the night to life. riki walks in first and you closely follow. you walk past a couple of tables before finding riki’s group of friends settled on a long table further back into the pub. they all greet the two of you as you sat down on the two empty seats. riki’s friends from work, from highschool, and from anywhere else were there, considering most of them knew each other anyway, but you didn’t expect his most recent ex to be there. his ex of 2 years. you didn’t really know that much about riki’s past relationships, but you for sure knew about this one. she was that one girl he really got along with and they just ended up seeing each other. they had so many common interests and personality traits. i mean, it didn’t mean you and him were any less alike, but the fact she was his last just wasn’t something that you could move past by.

“hey? you okay?” riki tapped you on your shoulder, snapping you out of your little zone-out moment. “oh, yeah, sorry” you say, shifting your focus onto the group’s conversation. “so, riki, y/n, how’s things between you two?” heeseung asks. “we’ve been doing well, nearing to our two year anniversary on november actually” riki answers with both of your hands intertwined, resting on his lap. “and our work schedules have loosened up a bit so we’ve been able to see each other a lot often recently” you add. the chat between the whole group continued as you two immersed yourselves into it as well.

the night passes but you can’t help but notice the stolen glances riki’s ex has made with both you and riki. they’ve exchanged some words too while in conversation with the rest of the group. maybe you were just overthinking it? you knew it was a get-together with his friends, and you are his girlfriend after all, so maybe there was no malice or intent of her glances. plus, you and riki have been together for quite some time. but two years? him and her? of course it would be impossible for him to forget. but he was with you now, and he looks like he’s the happiest he’s ever been. there’s no problem there, right? but why has this whole scenario been messing with your brain since the moment you sat down on the table?

you take a shot of soju, slamming the shot glass back down onto the table. you were probably on your third, fourth, maybe even fifth bottle? you don’t know, but you were lowkey getting drunk at that point, actually, everyone at the table was getting drunk at that point. after some time, you all decide to stand up and head home. you weren’t as dizzy, so you were able to slowly stand upright. you sighed to yourself, the night was finally over.

as everyone walked towards the front door to exit the pub, riki’s ex stumbles forward. she probably had gotten sloppy after a few bottles of soju. riki’s hands naturally found their way onto her waist, standing her back upright. “you okay?” he asks. she nods and hums in respond, with heavy eyelids and a face tinted with the color red. you stood there, blankly watching what had just unfolded before you. you didn’t know how to react, you didn’t want to cause a scene. were you just being overly sensitive? it was just coincidental that she so happened to have tripped and riki was right behind her. but, you saw the concern in his eyes and how it was second nature for him to have placed his hands onto her waist. this whole thing was most probably not a new thing to riki. how he’d spend the whole night with her, drinking and having fun, how he’d drive her home in the same ford he drives around now, and how he’d probably walk her inside, making sure she got home safe. was the alcohol getting to you? or were these thoughts coming from your completely sane, rational, sober self?

you let it pass until everyone parted ways. riki walked you to his car which was parked somewhere near his company’s building. he didn’t notice anything wrong the whole walk there, but he sensed the tension as soon as he shut the car doors. the air grew thick. you tried avoiding riki by looking out the car’s window, or mindlessly staring into the road ahead. in his mind, he was trying to work out what he had done wrong. were you just sleepy? were you just tipsy? or were you simply just not in the mood? he got a hint that it may have had something to do with his ex, knowing you and how you think about such things.

the car ride to your apartment was silent, with only the sounds of the engine, the other cars passing by, and the road being heard. you two did not exchange a single word the entire drive. riki parked the car by the sidewalk of your building, switching the engine off. he finally broke the silence by saying “hey, i’ll walk you inside, ‘kay? i don’t want you getting hu-“ but you cut him off halfway “no, riki, it’s alright. i’ll be alright.” “but, baby, it’s like 3 in the morning. it isn’t-“ and you cut him off once more “i said it was alright, didn’t i? just go home, riki.” you said, walking towards the lobby of your apartment building. he walked and followed closely behind you, not letting you go up to your apartment alone, both under the influence and with something going on between the two of you too. “baby, look, i don’t understand what’s wrong? what did i do?” he asks you while looking you straight in the eye. you couldn’t do anything but look away from him as the two of you stood in the elevator going up to the third floor of the building. you storm down the hallway, towards your flat. the tears formed in your eyes, holding them back from streaming down your face. “hey, hey, baby-“ riki says, fastening his pace to keep up with you. you grab your keys and unlock the door, shutting it close as you walk in. he stops the door from closing and grabs your hand, stopping you from walking in further into your apartment unit. “what is it that you want, riki? WHAT?” you exclaim as you finally turn around to come face to face with him. he comes into your apartment, shutting the door behind him before leaning onto it. the tears formed from earlier began to escape the corners of your eyes as you start to sob in front of your boyfriend. “i’m sorry, baby. w-what did i do?” he says, pulling you into his embrace. all you could do was cry in his arms. he caressed your back, rubbing it up and down to relieve you. he repeated the words “i’m sorry” all over and over again. the sight of his disheartened girlfriend in his arms, crying her eyeballs out, shattered him into a million pieces.

“why are you hugging me right now?” you quietly say, wiping your swollen eyes with the palms of your hand. “what do you mean, baby? you’re my girlfriend, why wouldn’t i hug you?” riki answered, with tears running down his cheeks too. “t-then what the hell was that earlier? do you still love her? do you love her more than you love me?” you ask him, looking up at him. you pause. “i saw the way you two looked at each other, how you to conversed and interacted still. and i’m probably stupid for thinking all this, knowing you two have moved onto new relationships, but i don’t know if i can compete with her. and it’s driving me fucking crazy, riki. it’s driving me fucking insane.” you add. “y/n, baby. past is past, okay? i love you and i’ve been the happiest i’ve ever been. being with you, being able to love and care for you, it’s all i could ask for. please don’t think of whatever happened earlier as something different. please don’t take it as a sign that i haven’t moved on just yet. she trips and falls, i catch her, and it ends there, okay? but you could trip and fall a million times, i’d always be there to stand you back upright and it doesn’t end just there. even if you try and fail, i’ll be there for you. even if you cry or weep, i’ll be there wiping your tears. even if you jump with happiness, i’ll be there celebrating with you.” riki responds as tears continue to come streaming down his face. “i love you, y/n, hm?” he holds you tighter. “i love you too, baby. i’m sorry-“ “no, don’t be sorry. it’s okay. we’re okay.” you lightly push yourself out of riki’s embrace and look up to smile at him. you pull him towards your room and you tuck the both of you into your bed.

you drift off into sleep, buried in riki’s nuzzle. he kisses your forehead and finally falls asleep, holding you close til morning.

[dreamingonfilm]

✧˖*°࿐Sea Salt Candles | d.m

Draco Malfoy x f!reader, fluff

Summary: In which a drunk Draco confesses his feelings for you in the midst of your touch and the smell of sea salt.

c/w: mentions of underage drinking, emetophobia

w/c: 1.8k

It was a Friday night at the castle - the hallways almost barren with the occasional echoing footsteps of Filch and prefects filling in the silent chambers. On a usual weekday night, the majority of students would find themselves in their dorms studying for tests, but this Friday night was one of teenage angst and a desire to forget the world around them.

A typical Gryffindor party consists of cheap red wine stolen from house elves, and whatever snacks the teenagers managed to sneak from the kitchen. But today they knew they had to go all out - they had just won the Quidditch Cup after all. With enough bribery, the students managed to convince the Weasley twins to sneak in all forms of alcoholic drinks that would surely make them forget the night ahead. The cheap fold out table full of different sized bottles and snacks - being refilled every half hour as students continued to dance and chatter.

You were never the type to go to parties, you'd much rather spend a Friday night in bed watching a muggle TV show or reading a book. If it weren't for the persistent invitations from your best friend, Hermione, you know you'd be in your dorm right now. But you couldn't get yourself to complain just yet, as you bit the end of a cherry and drank a foul tasting liquor from your red solo cup.

The music was blasting through your ears, bodies swarming the dance floor as you tried to find an empty place to get away from the sea of sweat and off-key singing, the lights changing every few seconds and your eyes lit up in different shades of reds and blues - almost imitating the disco ball above you.

In an attempt to get away from the stuffy surroundings, you found yourself an empty seat near the back of the common room. You sat down right after adjusting your lilac mini skirt, taking a sip from your drink once you've finally found yourself to be settled. The environment around you seemed to slow down, the music blurring out and party lights all merging into one big hue, you needed this.

"I didn't take you as the partying type." A voice spoke from behind, interrupting your train of thought, or lack of, as you turned around to face the stranger.

Draco Malfoy offered you a small smile, sitting himself next to you right before taking the cup from your hand. Your relationship with Draco has always been confusing - in all your years at Hogwarts you constantly found yourself gravitating towards him. There was an unspoken rule that you two would always partner up during class assignments, and give each other gifts for the holidays or your birthdays. He wasn't a friend, more so just an add-on to your left side, someone who has now grown to be a part of you.

He took a sip of your drink before making a face,

"This is straight Vodka! Merlin, (Y/N), you're going to end up in the Black Lake if you're not careful with what you're drinking."

You laughed before responding, "So that's why it tasted so bad. I couldn't get myself to drink more than a few small sips, so don't worry yourself too much, Malfoy. Getting drunk would be bad for us.”

You two enjoyed each other's company for a few minutes more, making small talk and joking around as you usually do. In Draco's eyes, your presence was something that mattered more to him than the leisure that comes from getting drunk or making out with people you'll regret the next morning. He'd savor every second like a prayer, you were his salvation.

This was something you were unaware of - so you left him alone to dance with a boy whose name you did not know. The taste of your shit vodka and blood from biting on his bottom lip too hard, filling his tongue. This was not how he wanted to spend his Friday night.

He watched you from a distance, how your hips swayed against him, how you smiled every time he whispered something in your ear, and how for just that moment it seemed like nothing else mattered. Not him, not you, and not the us you created just a few moments earlier.

He ran his fingers through his hair before getting up and heading towards the white table, your red solo cup never leaving his left hand. Without thinking he grabbed the near empty bottle of Vodka, filling in the remainder of your cup, and chugging it all in one breath. The burning sensation filling his throat, he coughed and coughed, knowing that he would regret this in the morning. But he didn't stop there, each time he would steal a glance at you, his anger would only grow. Watching as the boy's hands would go lower, and lower, and lower.

Soon enough Draco found himself against a wall, attempting to control his balance as he slurred his words out like a loose cannon. His head throbbing and his throat burning, but he couldn't feel more alive.

A soft voice spoke behind him. "Draco, are you okay?"

He turned around only to be greeted by your best friend. A worried look plastered all over her face as she listened to the slurring strings of, of course I'm okay, and, I've never been better. He gritted his teeth and he went on to stare at you, it was your last dance of the night as you were getting tired, but to Draco you couldn't have seemed more energized.

"It's funny, isn't it 'Mione," He mumbled, "how easily she goes on to forget about me."

"Trust me Draco, she could never forget you. I could obliviate her mind right now and your name would still be the only one she'd speak.” She flashed him a sincere smile before going on to reach her friend.

He watched as Hermione made her way to you, your eyes turning to greet him as she whispered something to you. With a small nod you made your way to him. His eyes widening as he realized the state you'd be seeing him in, but with remembrance of where your hands had been just a few minutes earlier, he couldn't find himself to care.

You laid your hand on his back before speaking to him softly, "Draco?"

He hummed in response. Closing his eyes to take in your scent, now mixed with the alcohol of the room.

"Let's get you out of here, yeah?"

Your voice was one that could calm him even in the rage of hell. If he were ever to die, your body alone would be enough to bring him back whole. With the comfort of your voice ringing through his ears, he grabbed your hand. You led him out of the crowded space and into the empty corridor just outside. You looked over to him and brought your finger up to your lips, he gave you a small hum as to understand that you were to remain quiet.

Your hands intertwined as you continued to walk through the silent corridor, your steps echoing through the halls as you made your way to the dungeon to where you could finally rest. Draco ran his thumb across yours as he attempted to take in how perfectly your hands fit in his. The events from earlier left his mind as his focus was placed solely on you, and your eyes, and the way your lilac skirt seemed to get smaller and smaller.

The stillness didn't last long as he began to speak through his hiccups, “You're really pretty, (Y/N).”

Your face flushed red as you began to choke on your spit. "T-thank you, Draco," you looked up at him and smiled, "you're quite pretty too."

He smiled back, but the blush on his cheeks slowly left as his face began to grow pale. His heart rate began to quicken as he turned around to face the bare wall. His stomach wretched as he let all the contents of the party come out onto the floor beneath him, his face flashing with green before going back to its normal color. He wiped his mouth on his sweater before giving you a shy grin, the embarrassment prevalent on his face.

You rubbed him on the back and gave him a sympathetic look, "Do you feel any better?"

He hummed softly before leaning his body on yours. You taking in his warmth and resting your head on his shoulder.

"Don't worry,” you whispered softly into his ear, "I still think you're pretty."

Once finally making your way to the Slytherin common room, and into Draco's dorm, you were quick to undress the boy into a fresh set of clean clothes, and brush his teeth as his eyes fought his sleep. He was now laying on his dorm bed underneath several layers of blankets, and you, after countless pleads, were laying right next to him. A soft melody from a CD you burned for him playing, as you hummed the words softly.

Your fingers traced over his collarbones as he held you close. You could hear the rhythm of his heartbeat and the slow pace of his breathing. He made you soft, and you allowed it. The serenity of this moment was cut short by him speaking.

"You smell like sea salt,” he pulled you closer to him, "how on Earth do you smell like sea salt? We are in the middle of Scotland."

You giggled at his obliviousness before going on to play with his hair, "It's probably from my candle."

He let out a sigh in response and finally opened his eyes, he looked at you softly, like a puzzle he had yet to complete. Blushing as he noticed how you were cuddled into his chest - both of your bodies seemingly melting into one. With a gentle kiss on the forehead, his next words caught you by a surprise.

"I love you.”

Your eyes widened. You lifted yourself up in shock and stared deep into him. Draco was never one to speak so openly about his feelings, especially when it comes to you. In your mind, his love was one that seemed to have formed from the swapping of homework and detentions spent together after talking too much in class. But noticing his state, your worries faded.

"You're drunk, Draco." You reminded him, bringing yourself back down to his chest. He only groaned at your response.

Bringing his blanket back up to cover you both, his heartbeat slowed as he began to fall asleep. But no amount of drowsiness could come between what he felt for you.

"Yeah," he started, “I'm drunk. But right now, you're in my dorm, and your shitty music is playing, and I love you.”

And while you wanted to argue with him, tell him that the way he feels is built off a false image of who you are, a part of you knew that the words he spoke were said in truth. So, before going on to turn off the light, you brought your lips up to his cheek. Both of you drifting into sleep as the words flew from your mouth,

 “I love you too.”

✧˖*°࿐

thank you for reading! check out my masterlist here

[mononijikayu]

kinktober 2024 — kayu's version.

Satoru's grin softens as he looks at you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. His eyes are filled with something tender and deep, a look that makes your heart swell with affection.

He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, languid kiss that seems to say everything he can't put into words. His hands are gentle as they explore your body, tracing every curve, every line, as if memorizing you by touch alone.

He pulls back slightly, his lips barely an inch from yours, his breath hot against your skin.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he whispers, his voice low and full of emotion. "And tonight… tonight is all about you."

K I N K T O B E R 2 0 2 4 —

K A Y U ' S V E R S I O N

hello, this is kayu!!!

i write to you all as i prepare for my first ever participation with kinktober!!! its quite exciting and thrilling and i am just so happy to be able to finally be a part of a new world.

a lot of what im writing is going to be only for 18 and above and as such not safe for work. i hope my dear readers understand that this means that if you are not 18 and above — do not yet read. i will have safe for work content in between these periods. please read those!!!

in any case, i am most excited to share with you the things ive been working on for all of you. im very happy with how these stories are so far and im sure by the time they are finished — they'll be something ill be most proud of.

kinktober may seem like a quite an odd concept to some but its exciting to express a horizon of expression in a different way. and im excited to express stories that will be a different shade of me once again. i hope you enjoy them!!! i love you all!!! see you in october!!!

xoxoxoxo kayu

W H A T ' S C O O K I N G ! ?

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

●OCTOBER 4TH 2024

♡ SINGER SUKUNA X SINGER READER

( e l a b o r a t e r o l e p l a y )

♯┆ why are you obsessed with me .ᐟ

— ryomen sukuna.

— no one knew how the feud of the bands started but people were here for it regardless. sukuna liked to push your buttons, you liked to push his. and really, it didn't matter. because he was here. and you were fun.

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

●OCTOBER 11TH 2024

♡ PRIEST SUGURU X WIDOW READER

( f o r b i d d e n d a l l i a n c e )

♯┆ devotion .ᐟ

— geto suguru

— twenty years passed and you moved towns with your husband, to try and forget geto suguru, your lover turned priest. now you're a widow and after all that time, your heartbeats at the sight of father geto suguru, the town's priest.

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● OCTOBER 18TH 2024

♡ HUSBAND NANAMI X READER

( m a k e u p — c a r f u c k )

♯┆right people, wrong place .ᐟ

— nanami kento.

— you and your husband nanami kento have been estranged for a while. it was hard, hard to fathom that you and him would be separating, that he would choose duty over you. even when you drink, its his name you call to pick you up tonight.

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●OCTOBER 25TH 2024

♡ GOJO SATORU X WIFE READER

( f i r s t t i m e )

♯┆honeymoon .ᐟ

— gojo satoru

— arranged marriages are hard, even when you're the one who made it happen. after years of marriage (and subsequently falling in love), the two of you finally decide to go and embark on a honeymoon.

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●OCTOBER 31ST 2024

♡ FUSHIGURO TOJI X WIFE READER

( b r e e d i n g k i n k )

♯┆pillowtalk .ᐟ

— fushiguro toji

— if fushiguro toji was being honest, he'd always wanted a big family. after living a rather painful life in a loveless family, he wants to build a big, warm home. looking at it now, megumi's almost a year old. a new sibling in close age would be good, doesn't it?

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C O M I N G S O O N ! ?

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

GUILTY AS SIN...? - PART II

summary: one summer with the man you can't have, but can't stop thinking about.

pairing: cillian murphy x popstar!reader

word count: 9.1k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). explicit sex. angst. cussing, slight age gap, mentions of alcohol and divorce. no use of y/n, heavily inspired by ts and ttpd. if i missed something please let me know. (also this is a work of fiction, none of it reflects how i feel about the people mentioned in this, most importantly cillian's wife, who im sure is a sweetheart irl. it's fiction, just relax and enjoy it, and if not, move along, friends.)

a/n: hi everyone! here's the second part, finally. i had lots of fun writing this one, happy reading <3

part one

After staying at Cillian's for awhile, you decided to go to the place you had rented. The truth is, you didn't want to leave, but you had already extended your stay longer than planned, and you wanted to give him space with his kids. And you also wanted to give him time to process the event that took place four nights ago in his bathroom. Or you wanted to give yourself time to process it.

At this point, you weren't sure who needed the space more.

It was all very confusing because, yes, you've had feelings for him for God knows how long, but you've squashed them down like a stubborn bug for the sake of your friendship and, most importantly, his family. Those two things were always at the forefront of your mind, guiding every action and decision. But now that his family is no longer a factor and the two of you almost crossed a line, it's hard to ignore those feelings.

Those feelings that crawl up your spine every time he smiles at you or brushes against your hand accidentally. Those feelings also make you feel like the worst person in the world, as if you're betraying his ex-wife and their children by even entertaining the idea of something more with him.

It's all so delicate.

The cottage is nestled between rolling green hills and the glimmering blue of a distant sea. The place is like a warm embrace. The floors are laid with wide, honey-colored wooden planks, their surface worn smooth by generations of footsteps. Exposed wooden beams crisscross the ceiling, their rich, dark wood adding a sense of history and sturdiness to the space. The walls are painted in a soft, creamy white. The master bedroom is a haven of tranquility, with white linen curtains billowing softly in the breeze from the open window. The bed, with its wrought iron frame, is piled high with quilts and pillows in soft shades of blue and green. It's the best sleep you've had in months.

It rained earlier today. You've stayed inside all day, not wanting to venture out into the wet weather. The gentle pitter-patter of raindrops against the window was a soothing backdrop to your day, but it stopped around mid-afternoon, leaving behind a fresh, clean scent in the air.

Now you’re sitting at the rustic wooden table beneath the pergola, one leg tucked under you, grapevines overhead casting dappled shadows on the weathered wood. The garden around you is alive with color—wildflowers in every shade imaginable sway gently in the soft breeze, and the lavender and rosemary release their fragrant scent into the air.

Bon Iver’s voice drifts softly from your phone, which lies next to your notepad on the table. The music is haunting, its melancholy tones matching the weight in your chest. You’ve been here for hours, or maybe it’s only been minutes—time seems to blur together lately.

The notepad lies open beside you, filled with half-written lyrics, fragments of thoughts and emotions that you can’t quite bring yourself to finish. The pages are messy, scribbled lines crossed out, some words barely legible, as if your hand couldn’t keep up with the rush of thoughts.

You’ve been chasing this dream for so long—touring, recording, performing in front of thousands of people—but somewhere along the way, you’ve lost sight of why you started. The music that once brought you so much joy now feels like a burden; the words that once flowed effortlessly are now tangled up in doubt and frustration. The applause, the fame, the success—it’s all there, but it feels hollow. It feels lonely.

The sun is beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the water, but you’re too tired to move. You prop one leg up the chair and rest your chin on your hand. You focus on the water, trying to find some solace in its steady flow. But all you can feel is a deep, gnawing sense of unfulfillment, a yearning for something you can’t even name.

How pathetic.

You’re tired, so tired, and the dream that once seemed so bright now feels like a chore.

The door creaks open behind you, and you catch the faint sound of footsteps on the stone path. You don’t need to turn around to know it’s him. Cillian moves with a certain quietness, a soft presence that you’ve come to recognize. The footsteps grow closer until they stop just to your left.

"You should lock your door," he says, his voice low, carrying a hint of amusement but also concern.

You let out a small, tired laugh, not bothering to look up. "Didn’t think anyone would come by," you reply, your gaze still fixed on the stream; its gentle flow is the only thing that seems to make sense right now.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stands there, his shadow blending with yours. Then he pulls out the chair next to you, the wood scraping softly against the stone, and sits down. You can feel his eyes on you, but he doesn’t press, just lets the silence settle around you both.

You hear him shift beside you, and from the corner of your eye, you see him glance down at the notepad on the table. His gaze lingers on the unfinished words, but he doesn’t say anything about them. Instead, he just leans back in his chair, looking out at the water with you.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks, his voice softer, almost reflective. "I know that look. The one that says you’re miles away, stuck in your own head."

You don't respond, knowing that he understands you more than most people. The music on your phone shifts to another Bon Iver song, this time Beach Baby.

He continues. "You know, sometimes I think about all of it—this life, the fame, the roles I play. It’s bizarre, isn’t it? I spend so much time being someone else, living in someone else’s skin, that it’s easy to forget who I am when the cameras stop rolling."

His words hang in the air, and you turn your head slightly to look at him. His expression is thoughtful, his blue eyes distant, like he’s lost in his own memories. "It’s like… sometimes, I feel more like myself when I’m acting, when I’m being someone else. That's what made me fall in love with it in the first place. I just loved being somebody else. It’s easier, somehow. But then there are those moments, when the lights go out, and I’m just… me. And that’s when the loneliness creeps in."

You nod, understanding more than you’d like to admit. "It’s the same with music, I guess," you say quietly. "There’s this rush, this high, when you’re on stage, when everyone’s looking at you and you’re giving them everything you’ve got. But then it’s over, and you’re left with the silence, the emptiness. It’s like… who am I when it stops?"

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and you can see the shared understanding in his eyes. It’s a strange comfort knowing that someone else gets it, that you’re not alone in this feeling of being lost.

You take a deep breath, the weight of the words you’ve been holding back suddenly becomes too heavy to keep inside. "I guess that's why I'm here. To escape. To escape the pressure, the expectations and…just be," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Everything is a performance. Everything. When we're out in the world, we're expected to act a certain way, to fit into a mold. We have to edit ourselves. As honest as we try to be, there's always a part of us that remains hidden. And it's exhausting."

Cillian nods, his gaze never leaving yours. "And when you’re alone, you can let go of that and let your mind just be still," he says, his voice carrying the weight of someone who’s thought about this a lot. "It’s quite peaceful, isn’t it? But it’s also… terrifying. Being alone with your thoughts, with no distractions, no one to perform for. It’s like staring into a void sometimes."

You swallow hard, the truth of his words hitting you square in the chest. "Yeah, it is. But it’s also when I feel the most myself. When it’s just me, and I don’t have to be anything for anyone. Just… here, in the quiet, letting my mind rest."

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The garden around you is alive with the soft sounds of nature—the rustling of leaves, the gentle murmur of the stream, the distant call of a bird. Bon Iver’s music still plays from your phone—Holocene.

You break the silence. "Sometimes I think about it. I think about letting go of it." It's a terrifying thought but also strangely liberating. You don't know what it means completely yet, but just saying it out loud brings relief. Cillian just looks at you, his eyes reflecting understanding and empathy.

It was so easy, existing with him.

In this moment, you feel a little less lost, a little more understood. And as the sun dips lower in the sky, a mix of orange and pink hues, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re not as alone as you thought.

The next day dawns softer, brighter. You wake up with a sense of calm that had been missing for a while. There’s a lingering warmth from yesterday, the conversation with Cillian still playing in the back of your mind. As you sat at the same wooden table this morning, you found yourself scribbling lyrics that flowed easier, more naturally. They’re different—slower, more deliberate. There’s a depth to them that feels right, as if you’re finally tapping into something real, something honest.

Last night had ended quietly. After that heavy talk in the garden, Cillian stayed for dinner. The two of you kept the conversation light, avoiding the unspoken tension. It was there, hovering between you, but neither of you brought it up. Instead, you talked about mundane things and watched Punch-Drunk Love in the quaint living room. He pointed out every little detail he liked in it, and you listened, soaking in the emotion in his voice.

When the movie ended, he promised to see you the next day, and you reassured him it was fine, that you understood his absence. You meant it, even though a part of you always ached for more of his presence.

Today, with that newfound energy, you decided to venture out. An early morning walk turned into a drive to the nearby town. You pulled on a cap and sunglasses—a funny and somewhat ineffective disguise, but it was something. The town was charming, with narrow cobblestone streets, quaint shops, and a relaxed pace. Most people didn’t give you a second glance, and for that you were grateful. It was nice to blend in, to be just another person out enjoying the day.

You wandered through the market, admired the local crafts, and even picked up a few things—a handmade bracelet, a small painting of the Irish countryside. Lunch was at a cozy little café, tucked away from the main street. You ordered a hearty bowl of seafood chowder, rich and warming, with fresh bread on the side. As you sat there savoring the meal, your phone buzzed. It was Cillian, asking if you wanted to grab drinks tonight. You hesitated, your mind running through a dozen reasons to say no, but in the end, you agreed. You wanted to see him again, even if you couldn’t quite admit how much.

Back at the cottage, you took your time getting ready. You set the atmosphere, lighting a few candles, playing some soft music in the background. It felt good to take care of yourself and put a little effort into how you looked. You chose a pair of jeans that fit just right, a black top, and your favorite leather jacket. Casual but confident. A swipe of red lipstick added a touch of boldness.

You didn’t know where the night would take you, but you felt ready.

Cillian arrived right on time, his car rolling up the gravel drive just as you slipped on your jacket. When you stepped outside, he was already out of the car, leaning casually against the door. He smiled when he saw you—a warm, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Ready?” he asked, his eyes flicking over your outfit with an appreciative glance.

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied, a hint of nerves bubbling up but quickly pushed aside.

The drive to the pub was easy, the conversation flowing effortlessly. You talked about your day, the town, the little things you’d picked up. He told you about his new movie coming out later this year, based on a novella set in the mid-1980s in a small Irish village. There was a comfort in the exchange, in the way your words mingled with the sound of the tires on the road.

When he pulled up outside the pub, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. It was a small, unassuming place, the kind of spot that felt like a well-kept secret. The sign above the door was weathered, the windows glowing warmly from the inside. It looked cozy, inviting.

“Do I need to bring out my disguise?” you asked, amused, as you glanced at him.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, you’re safe here. No one’s going to bother us. I’ve been coming here for years. They don't give a shit about me.”

He was right. The pub was perfect—dimly lit, with a mix of old and new music playing in the background. The crowd was relaxed, more interested in their conversations than in who might be sitting at the next table. You found two empty stools at the bar and settled in.

Close to the drinks. Perfect.

You ordered beers—the kind that tasted awful but somehow fit the atmosphere. Cillian took a sip of his beer, and the reaction was immediate. He groaned, his head falling back as if in defeat, eyes closed as he savored—or perhaps endured—the taste. The dim light from the pub’s old-fashioned fixtures cast a warm glow on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline and the shadow of stubble that had begun to form. His lips, still wet from the beer, parted in a wry smile that spoke volumes of his disdain for the drink. His brow furrowed slightly as he kept his eyes closed, letting out a deep, exaggerated sigh as if the beer was the worst thing he’d ever tasted.

It was a dramatic performance, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how absurdly handsome he looked even in that moment. There was something endearing about it—the way he could make something so ordinary seem so intense. His dark hair, slightly tousled, fell over his forehead, and you found yourself staring longer than you meant to.

“Bloody hell, that’s awful,” he muttered, finally opening his eyes and giving you a side glance. His blue eyes sparkled with trouble, the corners crinkling as he caught the expression on your face. “You should’ve seen yourself, though. Looked like you were trying to swallow glass.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, please. You looked like you were about to keel over from one sip,” you shot back, sarcasm lacing your voice.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and the amusement in his eyes deepened. “Can’t argue with that,” he admitted, taking another sip with a grimace. “Piss beer, this is. I’d almost prefer water.”

“Almost,” you teased, lifting your glass to take another drink. The foam clung to the rim as you sipped, and you made a point to keep your expression neutral, though you could feel the bitterness spreading across your tongue.

Cillian leaned in a bit closer, his Irish accent growing thicker with each drink. “But then, what would we have to complain about, eh? I think the shite beer is half the charm of this place.” His voice was smoother, more relaxed, and you noticed the way his words seemed to roll off his tongue, rich with the lilting cadence of his heritage. It was endearing, undeniably so, and you found it increasingly hard to focus on anything else.

“Is that what they call charm here? I must’ve missed the memo,” you quipped, smirking as you met his gaze. The clever back-and-forth felt natural, easy, and it warmed you more than the alcohol ever could.

“You’re lucky I’m here to explain it to ya,” he said, leaning in just a bit more, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Otherwise, you might’ve gone your whole life without knowing the joys of terrible Irish beer.”

“Oh, I’m so grateful,” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your words, but your smile gave you away. “I’ll add it to the list of things you’ve taught me.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter, and you noticed how close he had gotten. His arm was now resting casually on the back of your seat, and every so often, your knees would brush, those accidental touches sending a small, electric thrill through you. The pub’s atmosphere, once filled with distant conversations and the clinking of glasses, now seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. The world outside the booth blurred away, and all that was left was Cillian’s presence, the sound of his voice, and the faint, intoxicating scent of him that mixed with the pub’s woody, earthy aroma.

The more you drank, the closer you both seemed to get, each sip loosening the barriers that had been in place. His laughter grew louder, more infectious, and his accent, more pronounced with every word, sent a shiver down your spine. It was more than just the alcohol—there was an ease between you that you hadn’t felt before, a sense of connection that went beyond the usual playful exchanges.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he leaned in even closer. “I think I’m starting to like this beer.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a smirk, feeling a little more brave. “Is that so? Or is it just the company?”

He chuckled, his breath warm against your ear as he replied, “Maybe a bit of both.”

A familiar flutter stirred in your chest—the undeniable pull that you’d been trying to ignore for days. But tonight, in this pub, with its terrible beer and terrible lighting, you decided you didn’t want to fight it anymore. Not here, not with him.

You moved on to something stronger, whiskey that burned going down but left a warmth spreading through your chest that felt as intoxicating as the alcohol itself. With each sip, the edges of your nerves smoothed out, and you felt looser, braver, and a little sexier. You sat on the bar stool with your body angled slightly toward Cillian. The leather of your jacket creaked as you shifted, the red of your lipstick standing out against the dim light. You felt his gaze on you, not just looking, but really seeing you, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck down to where your top dipped, lingering just a moment longer than usual.

His look was hungry, but it wasn’t just that—it was curious, intrigued. He rested his elbow on the bar, leaning closer, his knee brushing against yours as he picked up his glass, watching you over the rim as he took a sip. The whiskey seemed to bring out the blue in his eyes, making them sharp and piercing, but there was softness there too, an openness that had grown.

“You know,” you began, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. “I was just thinking about the first time we met.”

His eyebrow arched in curiosity, and he leaned in a little closer, his interest piqued. “Oh yeah? That was… what, 7 years ago? At the Globes, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, taking another sip of your drink, the liquid courage giving you the confidence to broach the subject. “Yeah, that’s right. And you… well, let’s just say you weren’t exactly my biggest fan.”

Cillian looked taken aback, a surprised smile curving his lips. “What? I don’t remember it like that.”

“Oh, come on, Cill,” you said, playfully nudging his shoulder. “You kind of hated me."

He laughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t hate you. I just… I guess I had some preconceived notions about you."

“Preconceived notions?” you asked, a teasing glint in your eyes.

He hesitated, looking almost sheepish as he ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly? I thought you were this… I don’t know, shallow, self-absorbed person. Just someone who was there for the attention, you know?”

You let out a mock gasp, placing a hand over your heart in faux offense. “I’m wounded! I can’t believe you thought that about me, really.”

He chuckled, but there was a hint of regret in his voice as he added, “But I was wrong. I figured that out pretty quickly.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, leaning in a little closer, your voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. “When exactly did you figure that out?”

“The first time we really talked,” he said, his voice equally soft, the words carrying a weight they hadn’t before. “After I saw you in the hall, crying. I don't know. You were so real, and I realized you weren’t what I thought. Not even close.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Wow, so I had to have a full-on breakdown just to convince you I wasn’t a shallow, self-absorbed diva? Good to know, Cill. I’ll make sure to cry more often around you.”

He laughed, bringing his fingertips to his lips, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Not quite what I meant, but I guess it did the trick, didn’t it?”

You remembered that night vividly, how everything had seemed to spiral downward so quickly. “I was having the worst night,” you said laughing, a slight bitterness creeping into your tone as the memories resurfaced. “I’d just been dumped by the world’s biggest asshole that morning, and then there you were, tearing down everything I said with some esoteric joke.”

Cillian winced slightly, the regret more pronounced now. “Yeah… I wasn’t exactly charming, was I?”

“You were a bit of a jerk,” you admitted, but there was no malice in your words. “But you made up for it with that burger offer.”

A grin spread across his face as he remembered. “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes.”

“Well, I figured a burger with you was better than sulking alone,” you replied, smiling at the memory. “And it was. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was exactly what I needed.”

His expression softened. “I’m glad I asked, then.”

The bartender interrupted your conversation to ask if you wanted another round, and without a second thought, you both nodded in agreement. It seemed neither of you were ready to call it a night. The place was warmer now. As you waited for your drinks, your eyes drifted to the ceiling. Neil Young's "Harvest Moon" played softly in the background, the gentle melody weaving through the low murmur of conversation.

You glanced over your shoulder and noticed that a few couples had begun to dance, swaying gently to the music. There was something so natural, so easy about it, that you couldn’t resist the urge that bubbled up inside you. Turning back to Cillian, who was taking a sip of his drink, you couldn’t help but smile. “Come on,” you said, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Dance with me.”

Cillian raised an eyebrow, looking at you with a mix of amusement and skepticism. He muttered something in reply but you couldn’t quite make it out. It only made you more determined.

“I didn’t catch that,” you teased, leaning in closer as if trying to decipher his words. “But I know what you’re going to say.”

“Oh, do you, piano woman?” he shot back, his tone light but with a challenging edge.

“Yes,” you said, grinning. “You’re going to say that you don’t dance.”

Cillian chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “You’re right about that. I don’t.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a low, persuasive tone. “I know, but you’ll indulge me anyway.”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if weighing his options. Then, with a small, resigned sigh, he downed the rest of his drink in one go and set the glass back on the bar with a decisive thud. Before you could react, he grabbed your hand and stood up, pulling you along with him.

It caught you by surprise, the suddenness of it, especially considering he had just insisted he wasn’t the dancing type. As he led you toward the makeshift dance floor, he leaned in and said with a grin, “You’re lucky I like you.”

You laughed, a loud, genuine sound that felt as freeing as the night itself. “Oh, am I now?”

He smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, because otherwise, there’s no way I’d be making a fool of myself like this.”

You shot back with a playful, “Well, let’s see just how much of a fool you really are, then.”

As you reached the space where others were already swaying to the music, Cillian took your hand and pulled you in close. You could feel the warmth of his body, the solidity of his frame as he moved with you, the two of you finding a rhythm that was surprisingly in sync. It wasn’t anything fancy—just simple, slow movements to match the easy tempo of the song—but it felt intimate, like you were the only two people in the room.

Cillian leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Did you know I'm a failed musician?”

You couldn’t help but smirk, the alcohol loosening your tongue.

“Failed, huh? So, what happened? Couldn’t hack it with the rest of us rockstars?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich, sending a shiver down your spine. "Something like that. I was in a band, actually."

You leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. “You? In a band? Color me shocked.”

It was kind of hot, imagining him on stage with a guitar in hand.

"We even had a record deal and everything."

"What happened?"

Cillian’s expression softened as he spoke, his voice carrying the weight of nostalgia. “My brother was still in school at the time, and my parents basically told me I could fuck up my life if I wanted, but I couldn’t take him down with me. So, it fell through.”

As you continued to sway together, the story of his past unraveled between you, each word carrying a hint of regret mixed with fond memories. “Those were great times, though,” he continued, his eyes distant as if he were seeing it all again. “I’d be out late, drinking, playing music in small pubs, thinking we were going to make it big. It was a bit of a rush, you know?”

You could imagine him there, young and reckless, with that same intensity in his eyes that he carried now, but wilder, untamed by the years. “So music was your first love, then?” you asked, your voice soft, genuinely curious.

He nodded, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, I suppose it was. I had been playing instruments since I was little. There’s something about it that just… gets into your blood. But then, acting came along."

“When exactly did you know that's what you wanted?” you asked, wanting to peel back more layers of him.

His smile turned almost bashful, as if recalling a secret he hadn’t shared in a while. “There was this guy who ran the Cork theater company—had a huge man crush on him. He was brilliant, and I ended up doing a workshop with him. After that, I just pestered him for an audition until he gave in.”

You chuckled softly at the thought of a young Cillian, determined and probably a bit of a nuisance, chasing after something he wanted so badly. “And that was it?”

“Well, there was a drama module in school when I was about 16, 17—during the transition year. That’s when I first got the bug. Ended up starring in A Clockwork Orange. It was sexy, dangerous, unlike anything I’d ever seen. I loved playing someone else, losing myself in the character.”

He paused, then flashed a self-deprecating grin. “There’s not much to look at, but if you give me a minute…"

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his modesty. “You’re selling yourself short,” you teased, leaning in closer, your bodies moving in sync to the music. "Cill, you literally have an Oscar."

“Ah, the Oscar... just a glorified doorstop, really,” he quipped, his tone light but with that familiar undercurrent of humility.

"It's the work that matters, blah blah blah," you joked, rolling your eyes playfully. His eyes were crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. "Exactly," he agreed, before pulling you into a twirl.

"Do you miss it? you ask, hands circling his neck as you sway. "Music, I mean."

Cillian blew out a slow breath, his eyes growing thoughtful as he considered your question. “Sometimes,” he admitted. "But life has a way of taking you where you need to be, not where you want to be.”

His words settled over you like a blanket, warm and heavy, as you mulled them over. Is this where I need to be? The question echoed in your mind, reverberating through the deeper corners of your thoughts. You weren’t sure you had an answer. You were a successful artist, living the dream so many could only imagine, but there was always that lingering sense of something missing, a quiet ache that you couldn’t quite place.

Where do I need to be?

The thought spiraled, unfurling like an endless thread, pulling at the edges of your consciousness. You started questioning everything—your choices, your path, the very essence of who you were. Those words seemed to tap into something deep inside, a reservoir of doubts and desires that you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

“Yeah,” you replied softly, almost like you were talking to yourself more than to him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around you, swaying slowly. See, this is the thing about Cillian, he had a way of making you feel seen and understood, even when you didn't fully understand yourself, even without saying a single word.

The warmth of Cillian's arm around you, the subtle way he moved—it all felt so natural, like this was where you were supposed to be. But then, the memory of four nights ago crept in—the way his breath had hitched as you said you weren't going to stop him from going further, the tension that crackled between you both like a live wire.

The room suddenly felt too small, too warm. Heat flushed through your body, a dizzying sensation that made it hard to focus on anything other than the way he was looking at you. A knot formed in your throat, and you swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing pulse.

The memory was like a current running through you, making you hyper-aware of every point of contact with him. The room suddenly felt too small, too warm. Your mind was swirling with thoughts, the alcohol making you bolder, more aware of the things left unsaid.

"I can't stop thinking about what almost happened the other day."

“What almost happened?”

He let out a low, almost inaudible chuckle, his lips dangerously nuzzled in your hair. “Don’t play coy with me, love. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach, the way your body reacted to his nearness. “I’ve tried to stop thinking about it,” he continued, his voice a hushed murmur that only you could hear, “but I can’t.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken desire. You wanted to let go of the restraint you’d been holding onto all night, but you were still aware of where you were, of the people around you—even if they weren’t paying you any attention. The thought of crossing that line, right here in the middle of the pub, was both thrilling and terrifying.

But Cillian, sensing your hesitation, didn’t push.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression serious but laced with that familiar smirk. “Wanna head out of here?” he asked, his voice low but with a note of urgency.

You didn’t need to think twice. “Yes,” you breathed, the word escaping your lips before you could stop it.

The night air hit you like a shock to the system as you stepped outside, the cool breeze carrying with it the faint scent of rain. The streets were quieter now, the lively noise of the pub fading into the background. You were drunk, the world tilting slightly with each step, and neither of you could drive.

Cillian pulled out his phone, his fingers deftly dialing the number for a cab. You watched him as he made the call, the way his jaw tensed slightly as he spoke, his voice low and calm despite the alcohol humming through his veins. There was something undeniably attractive about the way he carried himself, even in this moment of mundane practicality.

“What about your car?” you asked, your words slightly slurred but still coherent.

He glanced over at you, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll pick it up in the morning,” he replied smoothly, his accent curling around the words in that familiar, endearing way. “Don’t worry, love.”

The cab arrived not long after, the headlights cutting through the night as it pulled up to the curb. Cillian opened the door for you, and the two of you slid into the backseat, sitting close together but not touching. Not yet. The space between you crackled with unspoken tension, the thrill of anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

You found yourself playing with your ring-clad fingers, the cool metal a small distraction as the silence stretched out between you. The driver turned up the music a bit, and the opening chords of Inhaler’s "Dublin in Ecstasy" filled the car. The song was somehow fitting, its pulsing beat and haunting lyrics adding to the electric atmosphere.

It started to rain, the droplets tapping against the windows and turning them foggy, adding a sense of intimacy to the small, enclosed space. The outside world became a blur of lights and shadows, the city fading away as the cab sped through the streets. You could feel Cillian’s gaze on you, the weight of it almost tangible as you sat there, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

You turned to look at him, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The music became more intoxicating, the beat syncing with the rapid thudding of your heart. He noticed you bopping your head slightly to the rhythm, and a small, surprised smile crossed his face.

“You know this?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

You smirked, leaning back against the seat as you replied with playful confidence, “I know every song ever made, actually.”

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Is that so? A human jukebox, then?”

“Something like that,” you teased, the conversation light but charged with something more, something neither of you could ignore any longer.

The cab’s interior felt smaller, more suffocating as you neared your destination. When you finally arrived at his place, Cillian paid the driver, and the two of you got out, raising your jackets over your heads to shield from the rain, which had grown heavier. You both ran to the entrance, your footsteps echoing in the quiet night as you giggled like teenagers, the spontaneity of it all making you feel light, carefree.

He fumbled with his keys for a moment, the sound of metal clinking against metal filling the air before he managed to unlock the door. You stepped inside, the warmth of the house a stark contrast to the chill of the rain outside. The living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the faint glow of the night sky through the large windows. The shadows played across the walls, casting everything in a soft, almost ethereal light.

You tossed off your jacket, letting it fall to the floor, your clothes clinging to your skin from the rain. You could feel the fabric sticking to your body, the dampness making you shiver slightly, but the heat in the room—and the heat between the two of you—kept you from feeling cold. Cillian wandered off somewhere for a moment, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited, the anticipation almost unbearable.

When he returned, his eyes locked onto yours, a predatory glint in his gaze that made your breath hitch. He took a step closer, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing as he asked, his voice low and laced with a hint of something dangerous, “What should we do now?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with suggestion, and you felt a rush of heat flood through you, your pulse quickening. You moved toward him, your steps slow and deliberate, closing the gap until you were inches away. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” you murmured, your voice trembling slightly despite the bravado in your words.

His hand reached up, fingers brushing against your cheek before trailing down to remove a stray piece of hair stuck to your face. His touch was light, almost reverent, but it sent sparks of electricity through your skin, making you feel like you were on fire. His hand continued its path down your arm, and you followed it with your eyes, watching as his fingers traced the outline of your veins, the simple action making your breath catch in your throat.

He moved his hand up to your shoulder, his fingers ghosting over the strap of your top before slowly sliding it down, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your skin burned under his touch, a mix of desire and something else—something that felt like shame, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It felt too good, too right.

His hand slid up to your neck, his grip firm but not painful as he held you there, your breathing coming in short, ragged gasps. You clung to his black t-shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric as you tried to steady yourself, but the room seemed to spin around you, the intensity of the moment making you dizzy.

Cillian’s eyes bore into yours, his expression dark and filled with an unspoken promise as he whispered, his voice rough and filled with desire, “Tell me what you want.”

You wanted him—every part of him. You wanted to forget everything else, to lose yourself in this moment, to give in to the desire that had been simmering between you for days. And as his grip tightened slightly on your neck, pulling you closer until your lips were just a breath away from his, you knew there was no turning back.

"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

So he did. He kissed you, long and slow. His lips were soft yet urgent, and you melted into his touch. Your hands found their way to his damp hair, tangling in the strands as you deepened the kiss, savoring every moment. His breath mingled with yours, warm and laced with the faint taste of whiskey, his hands still cradling your face as if you were something fragile, something to be cherished.

But then the kiss deepened, the restraint unraveling as the need between you grew too powerful to contain. His hands slid from your face down to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The kiss became more urgent, more demanding, as if he was trying to consume you, to lose himself in you. You responded in kind, your own hands gripping his t-shirt, pulling him closer, wanting more—needing more. The heat between you intensified, the tenderness giving way to something hotter, something that felt like it had been a long time coming.

The rain continued to patter softly against the windows, a distant sound that seemed to fade into the background as your focus narrowed to just him—to the way his hands gripped your waist, to the way his breath hitched when you bit down softly on his lower lip.

You started moving backward, the need to feel him against you overwhelming any thought of where this might be going. Your feet stumbled slightly as you both moved toward the couch, the dim light from the windows casting your entwined shadows across the floor. He guided you, his hands firm and sure, but there was a tenderness in the way he led you, as if he was still holding back, still trying to keep a grasp on the control that was slipping away.

You reached the edge of the couch, and he paused for a moment, his gaze intense as he looked at you, his chest heaving with the effort to catch his breath. “You're in control here,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, thick with the weight of the question, with the possibility of what was about to happen. "We stop whenever you want to, okay?"

Ever so polite, you thought. You answered him by pulling him down with you, your lips finding his again with a renewed urgency. The cushions gave way beneath you, the soft fabric enveloping you both as you sank into it. His body pressed against yours, the weight of him grounding you.

As the kiss deepened, became more frantic, more desperate, you could feel the tension in him—the barely restrained control he was struggling to maintain. His hands roamed over your body, landing on your jeans and slowly playing with the button, a silent request for permission.

"Don't stop now," you teased, your voice barely audible against his lips. He responded by deepening the kiss even further, his hands moving with purpose as he unbuttoned your jeans. He stopped for a moment, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, his hands taking off your shoes before sliding your jeans down your legs. He positioned himself between your legs once again, kissing you rough this time.

The couch was vast and soft underneath you as one of his hands traveled up your thigh—still not as high as you wanted it. You let out a needy moan, encouraging him. When his fingers brushed against the edge of your already wet panties, you couldn't help but arch your back in anticipation. He pushed them aside, his eyes never leaving yours. When his fingertips made contact with the wetness of your folds, he groaned too, in a way you found very satisfying.

"I've thought about this…a lot," he murmured, slipping a finger inside you, making you gasp with pleasure. "What you might sound like. What you might taste like. What you might feel like."

He pulled away from you swiftly, and you moaned at the loss. He kneeled down in front of you, his gaze intense as he leaned in to kiss your inner thigh, sending shivers down your spine. He pulled down your panties. You went stiff, suddenly aware of how exposed you were. He opened your thighs a little more, as if he wanted to see more. "I want to make you feel good," he whispered. "Let me taste you."

"Yes," you breathed out.

You couldn't stop looking at him as he pleasured you, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. Each flick of his tongue and gentle bite made you arch your back in ecstasy, completely lost in the moment. His hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. He groaned in pleasure, and you opened your thighs wider. His tongue was thorough and deliberate, exploring every inch of you with precision. Your hands grabbed the couch cushions, trying to ground yourself as you felt yourself spiraling into pure bliss. And just when you started to roll your hips, he slid two fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you gasp and moan uncontrollably.

It was too much. Pleasure consumed you as you arched your back violently against his touch and you moaned his name over and over again, letting go. You were drunk on him— his touch, his mouth, his scent—lost in the euphoria of the moment.

"Fuckin' incredible."

Well, yes, fucking incredible indeed. But not as incredible as it would feel to have him inside you completely, filling every inch of you. To reduce him to the whimpering mess he had just turned you into.

Before Cillian could do anything, you sat up and pushed him flat to the floor. You were both drunk and too eager to make it to the bedroom, so you might as well just do it right there on the living room rug.

He grunted in surprise, but his hands quickly found their way to your hips as you straddled him, pulling you closer. You removed your top, your breasts spilling out as you leaned down to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. His fingers gently tangle in your hair as you pull away from his mouth, pulling his black t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

He stopped breathing as you worked your way down his chest, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles until you reached the waistband of his jeans. Your hands made quick work of the button and zipper, and you eagerly slid them down his legs, revealing his growing arousal.

When your fingers wrapped around it—fuck—his skin felt hot and smooth against your touch, his breath hitching. You positioned yourself to take him in your mouth, savoring the taste of his desire as you licked a slow, teasing path along his cock. Cillian let out a ragged moan, his hands tangling in your hair.

You lifted your eyes. He had propped himself up on his elbows, watching you with his lips parted, pupils blown.

You had him.

You took him deeper, relishing the way he arched into your mouth, his groans spurring you on. With each flick of your tongue, you could feel him losing control, surrendering to the pleasure you were giving him. "Fuck, stop," he gasped, his voice strained with need. "I need to be inside you."

“Condom?” you asked, the question hanging in the thick air between you.

“Upstairs,” he said, his voice rough, almost pleading.

You hesitated for just a second. “I don’t mind… if you don’t.”

For a moment, he froze, his blue eyes darkening as they searched yours, as if to make sure he’d heard you right. Then, with a low growl that sent shivers down your spine, he nodded.

You released him with a smirk and sat up, swung over him. You positioned yourself so that his hands were on your hips, guiding you down onto him. The anticipation was electric, every nerve in your body alive with the need to be closer to him, to feel him, completely and without anything between you.

As you sank onto him, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy, a low moan escaping from both of you. The feeling of being filled by him sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire between you that burned hotter with each thrust. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you matched his rhythm, lost in the intensity of the moment.

This was going to end you.

His movements became more urgent, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered your name. The room was filled with the sound of your mingled gasps and moans, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to echo off the walls. He felt so good, so right. His thrusts became more deep and harsh—you wanted even more. As if he read your mind, he sat up against the couch and kissed you deeply, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Bloody hell," he murmured against your lips, both his hands grabbed your face as he looked deeply into your eyes, and you circled your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and circling your hips in rhythm with his. Your breasts pressed against his chest, the heat between you both rising as your bodies moved in perfect synchronization. He was close—you were close. His hands roamed your back, your ass, and your breasts, and you threw your head back when his mouth found its way to your nipples.

"Oh fuck," you gasped, "Yes, oh—" you screamed as white-hot pleasure shot through your body, causing you both to reach the peak of ecstasy together. You felt his cock swell, filling you completely as he released with a guttural groan.

The intensity of the moment left you both breathless, bodies entwined in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. He had leaned back to the floor, and you had gone with him. He was rubbing your back, and your face was pressed to his chest.

"You okay, love?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin. You hummed, feeling content and safe in his arms, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

You stayed like that for a moment, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you, the quiet rhythm of his breathing syncing with yours. His fingers kept tracing those gentle patterns on your back, grounding you, reminding you that you were still here, still connected. The afterglow wrapped around you both, a warmth that made you feel safe, cherished. You could still feel him inside you.

“How bad would it be if we just stayed here?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the moment. There was a part of you that didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the spell.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest, and you could feel the rumble against your cheek. “Well, love,” he said, his voice laced with amusement, “I’m not sure how comfortable the floor will be in about twenty minutes, but I’d say it’s worth a try if you are.”

You laughed, the sound light and free. “Fair point,” you conceded, shifting slightly to look up at him. His eyes were warm, a little teasing, but there was an underlying tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“Come on,” he said gently, his hands sliding down your sides as he carefully helped you up. “Let’s get cleaned up. I promise the bed is much more inviting.”

He rose to his feet, extending a hand to help you up. You accepted, your legs feeling a little shaky as you stood, still a bit lightheaded from everything that had just happened. His hands lingered on your hips, steadying you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the care in his touch.

Together, you made your way upstairs, his arm draped around your shoulders as he guided you toward his bedroom. The space was warm, cozy, with a lived-in feel that made it undeniably his. The bed was unmade, sheets rumpled, as if he’d just gotten out of it before coming to find you.

He led you to the bathroom, where the soft glow of a single light illuminated the space. He turned on the shower, testing the water temperature before gesturing for you to step inside. You did, letting the hot water cascade over you, washing away the remnants of the night, though the memory of it clung to your skin. He joined you a moment later, his hands gentle as he helped you rinse off, his touch tender, almost reverent. You stood under the water together, letting the steam envelope you both.

When you were both clean, he handed you a towel, wrapping another around his waist. He left the bathroom for a moment and returned with a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, offering them to you.

“Here,” he said with a soft smile. “This will do.”

You took the clothes, slipping them on. The fabric was soft, worn in, and it smelled like him—woodsy, with a hint of something earthy and warm. You found yourself breathing it in, the scent comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

When you were both dressed, he led you to the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping in beside you. He held the blanket up for you, and you slid in next to him, the cool sheets a welcome contrast to the warmth of his body. He immediately pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist as you nestled into his side, your head resting on his chest once more.

The room was dark, but the faint light from outside filtered in through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the walls. You could hear the rain still pattering against the window, a soothing backdrop to the quiet intimacy between you. His hand found yours under the covers, fingers intertwining as he held you close, his breath warm against your forehead. You could feel his heartbeat under your palm, steady and reassuring, and it lulled you into a state of deep relaxation.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard you. You don't know for what exactly you were thanking him, but it felt like the right thing to say in that moment.

He responded with a gentle squeeze of your hand, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your hair.

You didn’t need to say anything more. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. You both knew that tonight had changed something between you, something profound and unnameable, but for now, it was enough to just be here, together.

a/n: there you have it, i hope you guys liked it!! please like, reblog and comment. i wanna hear your thoughts! and as always, thank you for the support <3

[hotwaterandmilk]

Grabbed the latest issue of Sho-Comi because Mahou Shoujo Dandelion has been making waves on Twitter in advance of its release and I had to see how it actually turned out.

Mizuho Kaeru seemed a tad overwhelmed on socials about just how much anticipation the series was receiving based on concept and characters alone, but Mizuho should honestly be proud of how well they've lined up trending tropes in Dandelion.

You've got the nasty-cute monster dude (Shade) who would do anything for his bright ray of sunshine (Tanpopo). Throw in the nostalgic magical girl element and it's not hard to see why both Japanese and English-speaking fans have been anticipating this first chapter. So, does it live up to the hype?

I'd veture that yes, Dandelion is worthy of the excitement that has been building around it. It was good as a lunchtime read on my phone and while I'll probably have to re-read it to get everything I want from it, my initial impression is a positive one.

I'm not a fan of grumpy/sunshine type stuff but Tanpopo's strengths as a character really helped me enjoy what was on offer here. You can see why the Special Magic Warrior Management Organisation was interested in her, she's got a good heart and she's got gumption, even if Shade is the one who continually helps break her fall.

The complication here is of course that Shade, while obliging of Tanpopo in his own way, is also monstrous. He plays into this when he wants to, menacing Tanpopo herself at one point because he's A VILLAIN OK?? (Sure buddy.) With Tanpopo becoming Dandelion, how will their dynamic change? Can this uneasy relationship develop further when our leads are technically on opposite sides of a battle with life-altering stakes, despite a potential unspoken desire to present a united front?

What I like about Mizuho's approach in this first chapter is that the world these characters live in is already tinted with grey and what should be a black & white / good vs. evil situation is far more complex than this right out of the gate. The "monster of the week" that shows up here is grotesque and violent, hardly the sanitised version you'd see in childhood cartoons. However, the magic warrior org is quite willing to lop heads (literally) when they have to, showing that they are not all sparkles and rainbows either. Tanpopo and Shade are very much walking into unknown territory here and I'm interested to see how Mizuho handles things in chapter two.

I just have to add that I absolutely loved this moment where Dandelion, newly transformed, performs her first magical action -- restoring the umbrella she'd used defensively as Tanpopo. So much about her character expressed in this simple yet powerful action. LOVED ITTTTTT.

If the hype remains then I can see this one turning out to be a solid little series. There's definite potential here in both the characters and scenario. I highly recommend grabbing the magazine issue and supporting any other official releases that become available if you can. Mizuho is also happy for people to produce fan art, so maybe draw pic or share a tweet/post/etc. about it if you don't have the money to invest and help keep that hype train moving this way instead!

[neptuneiris]

cardigan (02/03)

tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy.

pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!

summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.

word count: 8.4k

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As you're looking down at yourself, making sure there's nothing out of place, you just hear the loud sound of Sara inhaling deeply which makes you startle and you watch her quickly in panic.

hello! i just want to say that i can't believe how much you guys loved the first part. the story just exploded hehe. I'm so grateful for that, for your support and your opinions, I didn't think it would happen so soon, thank you very much.

i wanted to give you part two after such a quick acknowledgement and support, truly thank you so much and also let me know what you think of this second part please, i love reading and responding to you. enjoy!

"You like this one?"

"What?"

"No fucking way, Y/N! You look amazing!"

And at that moment you can feel the color come back to your face and you calm down.

"Come here!" she asks you excitedly, "I want to take a closer look."

You stand in front of her and turn on your own axis to get a better look at yourself in the large full-length mirror, instantly liking what you see.

Last year your dress for the Targaryen ball was red. And you don't usually repeat colors. So now you've chosen a deep ocean blue dress.

Which is Aemond's favorite color.

"This is the one, definitely."

"Really?" you put your hair behind your shoulders, watching you carefully, "Is this one better than the last one?"

"In my opinion the style is better."

You've tried on dresses of the same color in different styles before and honestly… you liked this one better than the others.

It's a long dress open at an angle exposing your left leg. It has no neckline, is strapless and shimmers in a metallic shade beautifully.

This is it.

You think definitely more convinced than ever as you look in the mirror after a few more inspections. You'll shine brighter with your hair and makeup done, you know it and you know you'll look beautiful. That's why you can't wait for the day to come.

You can't wait for Aemond to see you.

"And why did you choose this color?"

"Because it's Aemond's favorite color and it will match his sapphire."

"Oh yes," says Sara in a reminiscent tone, "I had forgotten that detail about your best friend."

"His sapphire eye?"

"Yes."

"But if that's precisely why everyone at the university knows him."

"They also know him for his hair and for apparently having come from the very palace of the Greek gods, don't forget," she says, also amused.

You let out a small laugh.

"Yeah, it's true."

After a little silence between the two of them where they inspect the dress, Sara stirs a little and seems to fight against herself to say what she wants to say. Until she grimaces and nerves invade her as she speaks.

"Listen Y/N…" she says cautiously, "It's not that I want to be nosy or anything, in fact I don't like to know people's things about things like…" she bites the inside of her cheek "That seem very delicate" she says finally "And it's that I'm very curious, I—

"You're a gossip, Sara," you remind him in an amused tone, interrupting her.

"Well… yeah, it's true, who am I kidding," she nods in acknowledgment, shrugging her shoulders and you laugh.

"You want to know what happened to Aemond's eye?"

"Yes," she murmurs, almost embarrassed, "But it's just out of curiosity and if it's something very personal then I understand."

You take a long breath and look away from the mirror to observe her.

"Yes, it's very personal," you tell her, "I can only tell you that it was a horrible accident that happened to him as a kid. He still finds it a little difficult to talk about it, even with his mother and sister."

"Yes, of course," Sara nods sympathetically, "In fact something like that I had imagined."

You nod too, sympathetically, thinking about it.

"At first, when I met Aemond in high school and we started our friendship, he didn't want to tell me," you confess, "It's not as if I insisted on the matter, of course not... but he knew I was curious about it. And it wasn't until after he was sure that I wasn't a fake friend, as I was with him, that we both confided a lot of things to each other until he told me about his accident."

"How old was he?" she ask attentively and curiously.

"Barely ten."

Sara raises her eyebrows in surprise with a face of pity.

"Ten?" she repeats in a murmur, "Wow. I can't even imagine. It must have been pretty awful, huh?"

"It was," you assure her.

You know Aemond has only told about what happened to you and a guy who was his best friend in high school, who now that guy got into another college in another state.

And what happened was that Aemond defended his little nephew, Luke, from some boys who were picking on him and wanting to almost beat him up at school.

But the blows went to Aemond who had to defend himself as best he could against four boys even a little bigger than he was at the time.

Then one of the boys did not measure his strength, hit him and pushed him too, and because of the push Aemond fell on top of a net of wires that made up a small garden in the huge backyard of the school.

They didn't even let him get up, so Aemond also hurt some parts of his body.

And out of desperation, before he could try to do anything, another one of the boys hit him in the face and that's when a piece of wire ripped his eye as he turned his head towards the wires from the blow.

When Aemond was telling you everything, you didn't even know what to say.

And the best punishment the bully boys could have received was to have been expelled. But it wasn't enough for Aemond and his family. They had taken his eye and that was 'justice'.

Luckily his whole family supported him and was there for him through the whole difficult process of doctors appointments, therapies, medications and so on.

His uncle Daemon especially made sure he received the best possible treatment with the best doctors and nurses while his older sister, Rhaenyra, searched for solutions to his lost eye along with his mother.

"And why does he have that sapphire? Didn't he think about a prosthesis or something like that?"

"As a kid, all he wanted was to recover and cope with the physical and emotional pain, and also to get used to his only right sight," you explain, "And then he told me he was thinking about it, but it's been a long time. Maybe he has already got used to the sapphire."

"And it doesn't hurt him?" asks Sara curiously, thoughtfully.

"No, he always has his appointments with the ophthalmologist," you let her know, "I guess the sapphire is to maintain an appearance. Kind of like what rich people do."

"Oh, of course," Sara nods with more understanding, "It makes perfect sense vonsidering how exaggeratedly rich he and his family are."

You let out a small laugh, turning to look at yourself in the mirror at the beautiful dress.

"Yes, they are," you murmur, "Are you sure your aunt will let me pay her weekly?" you ask, looking at her again a little worried.

"I already told you yes, Y/N. Stop worrying," she says amused.

"But she already knows?" you ask distrustful.

"Yes, she knows," she assures you for the eighth time, "She just said that by the time you decide to stop paying for it for one reason or another, there is no refund and you have to return the dress. And if you tear it, stain it or something, you pay extra."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," you make a nonchalant gesture, "I'm definitely going to finish paying for it."

You think about how the dress is so beautiful that it doesn't deserve to be worn for just one occasion. You can wear it to another event, not necessarily just the ball.

And after you've picked out the last dress, you both leave the dressing room, secure everything for payment, and Sara takes you home and you both say goodbye saying you will see each other tomorrow in class.

When you arrive at the apartment, only Vhagar greets you, to which you assume that Aemond must still be in class or with his girlfriend.

So you decide to take Vhagar with you to your room to do some homework and wait for Aemond to arrive to have dinner together.

And by the time you finally hear his arrival at the apartment, you take Vhagar in your arms and leave your room to ask him how his day was and what he wants for dinner tonight to see if it matches what you want.

But the words get stuck in your throat the moment you see him and your eyes meet his, watching him in shock, definitely not expecting this.

And at your reaction of saying nothing and continuing to stare at him in disbelief, he lets out a small laugh as he runs a hand through his neck and hair.

"What do you think?"

And that's when you seem to remember how to talk.

"No way," you mutter, "Are you fucking kidding?"

"As I understand it, your head can't grow, Y/N. At least not at this age," he tells you amused.

"Shit," you say still in disbelief, "It looks fucking amazing, Aemond!" you finally react with a huge smile.

He has cut his hair.

His fucking long hair is now short and he looks so ridiculously good, like it's not an everyday thing, as well as he looks even better than before and even... sexy.

And in an instant you're all over him, running your fingers through now his short, silky, still straight hair with some waves at the ends that now point slightly upwards.

Even his face, his figure, his sapphire, everything about him looks better than before just because of a haircut.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, still surprised and puzzled, with a small smile.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," he says with a smile, "What do you say, do you really like it?"

"I love it," you confess, "Even you, everything about you—

You stop, not wanting to look nervous, not wanting to insinuate your true feelings for him through his new appearance.

That's why you think very well what you will say before you speak, controlling yourself not to say anything too much.

"Well... it looks better," you finally say.

"Thank you, pretty one."

He smiles at you and you melt at the sight of his expression, simply because of the gesture accompanied by his new cut, so you couldn't be more ridiculous, but you can't help it either.

You find it so attractive and so striking the way you watch his dimples form and look, even they so damn good, again, because of his new haircut.

"I hope Alys likes it too."

You bite your lips, not wanting to focus on his comment at the mention of his girlfriend.

"And why did you decide to cut it?" you ask not to talk about her, acting nonchalant but still feeling surprised.

"I thought it would be a good idea to cut it for the ball," he confesses, "It's this weekend and I thought I'd do it now because I knew I wouldn't do it later."

You both laugh, as that is very Aemond Targaryen and you both know it.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," you say with a small smile, "I've got everything ready for the ball too."

"Oh really?" he raises his eyebrows, interested, "Now what color dress did you choose?"

"Nope. No details."

You turn away from him in an instant and head to the fridge to finally make dinner, because you know if he keeps looking at you and talking like that, you'll end up showing him everything.

"Oh come on, Y/N."

"I'm so sorry but you'll have to wait for the day."

"Are you serious?" he asks you.

"Even your new haircut isn't going to convince me."

"Hmm."

He certainly says with a disappointed tone and you let out a laugh.

"Be patient, Aemond. Now..." You look at him, "What do you want for dinner?"

You and Aemond talk about what his mother has told him she has planned this time for the ball with his sister Rhaenyra while you prepare dinner and listen to him at the same time. And when everything is ready, you both watch a movie in the living room.

And the next morning, Aemond Targaryen with his new haircut is all you hear about even among all the girls in your apartment. Even something as simple as a haircut drives them all crazy. Even you.

But that it's already a real topic of conversation is amazing.

And the next few days are really stressful for you, also for Aemond, as you have to push your respective careers forward with homework and projects.

In fact the week is so busy that you barely have time for breakfast in the morning as you have to rush to the university. Aemond also told you that he was very busy with the same thing.

But it's worth it.

You tell yourself even in every break that you actually make use of to continue doing more homework.

And for you there is no better motivation than knowing that by the time the week is over, you will finally be free and the ball will be a great way to finally relax and have fun with your best friend.

And you honestly can't wait.

However, you were not prepared to hear what Aemond says to you the day before the ball when you arrive at the apartment and he is already there, apparently waiting for your arrival.

And you knew it wouldn't be good what he would say to you the moment you see the sadness, worry and sorrow in his eyes as he watches you.

"My family wants to meet Alys."

He tells you and then says nothing for a few more seconds, looking away from you, running a hand through his hair, frustrated, to which you already know what he will probably tell you.

"And I couldn't think of any better occasion than to take her with me to the ball so everyone can meet her."

And her words stab like a dagger into your heart, shattering it into little pieces.

And he speaks to you so softly, so carefully and so sorrowfully at the same time while you want to believe it's a damn joke and he's really not doing this to you.

"I'm so sorry, my pretty one," he looks at you with all the anguish in his eyes for your reaction, worried, "Could you do me this favor, just this once, please?"

Do him the favor?

You repeat in your mind, just watching him without really having any expression in your look, because you don't want to make him see that he has broken you with this news and this suddenly change of plans.

And his next words only make you feel worse for your lack of response, with him wanting to make the situation better, as if it were possible.

"You could still come, you know. I'll be with Alys, but Helaena or Aegon can keep you company and eventually I'll try to be around you as well."

"I'm not taking Alys."

He had said.

"This ball belongs to both of us, it always has. And I'm not going to break the tradition."

He had promised you.

And you say to yourself: he is asking you this as a favor. It's just a ball and it's only fair that his escort should be his girlfriend. Don't bother, you shouldn't bother.

"I know you had everything ready and I know I shouldn't be telling you this a day early."

He continues saying to you with sorrow, and then he goes to you in a desperate action and takes your hands in his.

"But I promise you that I will make it up to you, I will—

Unable to stand it any longer, you take your hands from his, which makes him stop and look at you instantly, a little surprised and worried by your reaction.

And you again... you act unconcerned and like it's no big deal.

Mostly because you no longer want to keep listening to his promises that are worthless in the end, you also don't want to be around him right now and also because you want to end the matter once and for all.

"Okay, I understand."

You tell him with the best look you can put at that moment, really trying to pretend that everything is fine, almost convincing him, almost.

"Don't worry."

And without waiting for anything else, because you really want to get away from him, feeling that if he tells you something else you're really going to burst into tears right then and there, you walk past him and head to your room.

But he doesn't let you go so easily.

"Y/N..." He holds you by the shoulders, looking at you worriedly, "Talk to me, please."

You let out a small laugh, the fakest laugh you've ever let out, trying with all your might to make it okay.

"What do you want me to say? I told you it's okay."

Again you try to pass by him but he again stops you. And you let him.

You let him because you don't want him to see you bad, broken. You let him because if you get upset, if you let him see that he has broken you, you fear he will realize your true feelings.

And you don't want that now that he has a girlfriend and looks happy with her. So happy that she even managed to change his mind about taking her to the ball even though he told you he wouldn't because that ball belonged to the two of you.

And you don't want to ruin that for him if that's what he wants, you also don't want to make a big deal about the change of plans. You want to make him see that you're okay with it.

Again...you don't want to look sad and broken in front of him.

"I know you, Y/N," he says to you in a sad, apologetic soft voice, "I know you're not okay with me wanting to take her now because I told you I wouldn't, that this ball belongs to both of us," he lets out a long breath, "But I—

"I'm perfectly fine with it, Aemond," you interrupt him with the most nonchalant and fake look possible, "I mean... she's your girlfriend and it's only fair that you take her, right?"

And your words don't know why they make her feel worse when that's just what she needed from you: understanding.

But somehow it feels a hell of a lot worse that you're understanding him after he knows he promised you he wouldn't take her and you'd both go together.

"But you—

"Look... actually this is good," you lie, "Now I have a lot of homework to finish and also a big project due on monday. The weekend will help me to get everything done and delivered on time."

That's what you assure him even though this whole week you had worn yourself out getting everything ahead of schedule for next week so you could go to the ball and have fun without any more worries.

"Are you..." He looks at you suspiciously, "Are you sure?"

"Very," you say, putting on a small fake smile, "Now I just want to rest before I do everything."

He watches you for a few seconds with the softest and gentlest expression possible, still a little worried, while you watch him firmly back to show him that it's okay.

Even though it hurts like hell all this is happening.

"Well," he murmurs, looking away from you, nodding slightly, "Would you like me to make some dinner for the two of us? I can...

"No thanks," you cut him off, "I want to sleep, that's all."

And finally, carrying all your dignity with you, you head to your room, pretending that everything is fine and that you are fine.

But as you close the door to your room behind you, that's when all the appearance finally goes away and you allow yourself to really feel the way you feel.

And it makes it worse to see the beautiful dress on your bed, looking so spectacular, so ready to be worn, when you will no longer need it for the main occasion you decided to buy it and wanted to wear it for so badly.

Looking at it with longing and sadness, the first tears fall down your cheeks and you avoid letting out a sob as you bite your lips.

You would have preferred that Aemond told you about taking his girlfriend that day when you went to get the dress and then he came home with his new haircut. It would have been more preferable to telling you the day before the ball.

Either way, though, you know it would have destroyed you, just the same way you feel destroyed now.

That's why the next morning, you don't even leave your room. You don't want to and can't see Aemond knowing that today is the day it was supposed to be the two of you.

So you only leave your room when you make sure Aemond is in his room to grab something from the fridge and get back to your cave as quickly as possible.

Until the time of the ball gets closer and closer and you make sure your desk is full of sheets of your previous projects, pretending to be busy as you had told Aemond you would be.

Even his sister, Helaena, sends you an excited message asking if you will come tonight and with all the pain in your heart, you reply that you will not be able to come as you are too busy with homework and projects.

When Aemond knocks on your bedroom door and calls you from the other side. You quickly go to your desk, pretend to be busy with the sheets, tell him to come in and he does.

"I'm leaving now, pretty one."

"Okay, have fun," you say in the best possible tone, without looking at him.

You really don't want to look at him.

"I will probably come here to sleep, I don't think I'll stay anywhere else, just to let you know," he says in a soft and cautious tone, still a little worried about yesterday.

"Yeah, that's fine."

A few seconds of silence and then you hear him let out a sigh.

"Are you sure you don't want to come? You know Helaena and my brothers will be there. I can wait for you to leave."

You bite the inside of your cheek, annoyed that he's suggesting this again, when you shouldn't be.

You know he means well, but it bothers you, it hurts you. How does he think you'll want to go to the ball after changing your plans?

"I have a lot to do," you answer briefly.

And again you hear another one of his sighs.

"Okay," he murmurs.

But he doesn't leave immediately, you hear how he is still at your door and you feel his penetrating gaze, as if he is asking you for forgiveness, but you don't even look at him.

You can't and you don't want to.

You think that if he tries to talk about it again, you'll tell him how busy you are so he won't do it.

But fortunately you only hear him let out a long breath and finally close the door to your room. And the next thing you hear are his footsteps and then the apartment door opening and closing.

The next few days after what happened between you and Aemond at the ball are again like you didn't want them to be.

But it seems that the ball was an important point that broke between you and Aemond and again he and you don't spend time together anymore. It's only in the mornings when you both see each other for breakfast, but there isn't even a conversation for the time being.

There are no more movie weekends, no more going to a restaurant for breakfast on some weekends, and no more going to the grocery store together.

However, the agreement remains that he takes care of everything financially and you take care of the food, laundry and cleaning.

Still, it's as if you live alone.

Suddenly Aemond stopped coming to the apartment less and less, as well as he has stopped sleeping here constantly anymore.

Sometimes there are not even any more of his clothes to wash, mostly because they are still clean or because he takes them away or has left them somewhere else, with Alys obviously.

All the food is finished by you since he barely eats breakfast or dinner here. And the few times you've gotten to talk, there's been no mention of the ball at all.

And you can tell, as he also shows, that he seems to be very busy with his classes and also with his girlfriend.

He still pay for the electricity, water and everything you need, you know he does, but he's not even here. Now it's like you totally take care of Vhagar, which you don't complain about, but she's supposed to be his dog because you gave her to him.

And even though things are tense between you, you still can't help but feel sad and lonely every time you realize that he didn't even get to sleep and on weekends you're all alone.

Whenever you text him asking where he is or why he didn't get to sleep, he always replies the same thing: Alys. He apologizes for not telling you but still never tells you.

Now you sleep in the apartment all alone, with only Vhagar's company every day. And even though it hurt you a lot about the ball, you still miss your best friend very much.

You missed him the most especially when a nasty storm hit King's Landing at night and lasted all morning until six o'clock.

You hate storms and Aemond also knows that you are afraid of them.

That night you couldn't sleep at all, you were curled up hiding under your sheets, hugging Vhagar as your only comfort, hoping that everything would pass soon.

The next morning you couldn't go to class due to lack of sleep and Aemond didn't even show up at the apartment.

Until one night, saturday at one o'clock in the morning, you heard the sound of the door and his footsteps in the living room and kitchen.

And ready to talk to him about how you've been feeling these past few days, as well as the fact that you practically live here alone, you head out of your room.

But you stop just as you open a crack in your door when you hear and realize that he is not alone.

"We should have arrived at my house, Aemond."

"We talked about this, Alys."

"But she's always here. I don't understand why she never goes out with friends or anything."

"I told you she's not that type."

You could have closed the door and gone to sleep with the idea of talking about what you had in mind with him another day, but you stay still when you hear that they are talking about you.

And what Alys says next only makes you stand stiller and listen more attentively.

"Oh my love... Are you still worried about her?"

You sharpen your ear more, attentive and confused.

Worried about me?

You repeat in your mind not understanding, willing to listen more, even though you shouldn't but still you do.

"I'm not worried. I'm just thinking about her."

"You are worried, Aemond," Alys repeats in affirmation and in a serious tone, "What I don't understand is why if the ball was two weeks ago."

"I know," you hear him mutter, "But still, you should have seen her face... she already had everything ready and I told her a day before that I wouldn't take her with me."

"But she told you it was okay, didn't she?"

"Yeah, but..." sigh, "In a way it felt much worse that she understood."

Alys lets out a snort.

"Of course she must have understood, my love," she says obviously, "I'm your girlfriend, not her."

You press your lips together, thinking that it didn't even cross your mind that he was still thinking about the ball when he doesn't even see you and isn't even here.

You don't fully understand but you do have an idea that after the ball, maybe he needed to distance himself from you and that's why you haven't seen each other anymore and he doesn't come to the apartment.

Maybe he felt really bad about himself for killing your illusion of going to the ball together, like every year.

But if he feels so bad, then why did he do it?

You ask yourself with some bitterness.

Apparently Alys was more convincing to him and it's okay, she's his girlfriend, but he's just feeling bad after it's all over.

"You care a lot about her and it's ridiculous, Aemond. As ridiculous as it is that she lives here and doesn't give you a single penny."

And then again her words catch your attention more than ever and you continue listening attentively, with your face falling because of her words.

"Alys..." he calls out to her in a tired tone, "I already explained that to you."

"But even so," she insists with an absurd tone, "Won't she be ashamed? She's your best friend and she doesn't even think about helping you a little?"

"She does help me and you know it."

"I mean financially."

"Her parents send her what money they can for college. She buys food and also buys what she needs for her classes and other necessities."

"Oh, so not only she doesn't help you with money, but also her parents?"

"Alys–

"Hasn't she even thought about getting a job?"

"Yes, but I told her that it wasn't necessary, that she could help me with the domestic and I could help her with the money without charging her anything."

"Are you serious?"

"She's my best friend, Alys. I'm the one who convinced her to live with me because I wanted her to."

"No, Aemond. It wasn't because you wanted to. It was because you pity her."

Your heart skips a beat and you open your lips and listen in surprise, beginning to feel that sharp pain in your chest as it hurts to hear those words.

"No," he says firmly, "It's never been like that."

"Oh please, don't fool yourself," she insists, "Y/N is not like you and me...her family has no money and from what you've told me, she's always been on scholarship in everything."

"Not everyone can have what we have, Alys," he says incredulously, "Besides, why would I care if she has money or not? Other people like us are really distasteful and don't have even a shred of humility, sincerity and trustworthiness like she has."

"I don't see it that way. I think she's so different and you feel so sorry for her that you've made it easy for her by putting her in an apartment like this because you know she and her family don't have the resources."

"That's what you think. But she and I both know that's not true."

He says with a confident tone and yes, it is true.

Alys at this moment made you doubt, a lot, because of the venom he was spitting out every word and for speaking so confidently about how he really feels about you.

But you never felt that Aemond treated you, since their friendship began, with pity.

Never.

"She has always been there for me and never with the intention of taking advantage of me for what I have. Not for nothing is she my best friend and you know how selective I am with my friends."

You hear the long sigh she lets out, to which you must think she has an irritated face.

"Well, if you say so," she says bitterly, "Still, isn't it annoying that she's always here? She doesn't go out to parties, she has no friends but you, and whenever we come here we can't even have the privacy we'd like because she's locked in her room."

"This is her house too."

"She's not a child anymore, Aemond. You should tell her to get a job and an apartment of her own or live in the dorm now. Tell her you want your own space now."

"It's not even a year since we've been living together, Alys."

"So, if I tell you in one more year that we want us to live together, will she live with both of us too?

"Of course not."

He answers instantly in an absurd low tone and again you feel your heart break at his words because of how quickly he answered and in what tone.

And you can't blame him, those are plans with his girlfriend, you have nothing to do there. But you can't help it and it really hurts because you will never be her.

"Look... I admit that I do wish I could have more privacy and also that she would go out to have fun and meet new people... I even want to get here with you and she's not here."

You feel the tears start to form in your eyes, but you bite your lips and control yourself.

"But I can't just tell her that I want to live alone now and give her to understand that I want her to leave. And I really don't want her to leave, not like this," he say honestly, "Not when things are still tense between us," he sighs, "She's my best friend and I love her. I don't want to hurt her anymore. I really want to make things right with her."

And as if everything Aemond had just said wasn't relevant to Alys, she says the following with every intention of it actually happening someday soon.

"What if the two of us go live together somewhere else?"

And the few seconds of silence afterwards on Aemond's part you know is from his confusion.

"Hm?"

"If you don't want to hurt her, fine, let her keep living here so you can feel good about yourself by continuing to help her."

You frown, really hating and feeling annoyed with his girlfriend's words.

"Then we can look for another apartment to live together," she proposes and you feel your heart shrink, "It doesn't have to be now, but later, but really do it, what do you think?"

You don't hear anything again for a few seconds, wanting to hear Aemond's answer while your heart beats hard against your chest.

"Alys–

"Please, baby. I want to live with you. I want to do many things with you."

And in that moment you know it's enough as you hear them start kissing and you finally, carefully, close the door and lie back down on your bed, holding back the tears.

Not wanting to hear anything promising out there, you put on your headphones and try to sleep with this ugly pain in your chest.

You shouldn't have listened to that conversation between the two of them, but you couldn't help it. But after listening to them, staring for a few moments at the ceiling of your room, broken, you make the decision you had thought about before but were not sure about.

And that is that you will fulfill Alys' wish... you are going to look for a job and you are going to ask for a doorm in the residence.

The following days after hearing Aemond's conversation with his girlfriend, continue the same.

Aemond still doesn't show up much at the apartment, the two of you don't talk much, he is always with Alys and you start looking for jobs near the university without success.

When you don't find anything, the days of searching get longer because the ones that are available are far away from your area and others don't apply for you because they ask for experience.

And at the same time you try not to let everything you heard that night affect you by keeping busy with college.

You also try not to let it affect you that Aemond said he wanted to make things right between you but he still doesn't see you and doesn't show up because he's with Alys.

You really don't understand.

That's why you continue to look for a job as it hurts you that you are practically living alone in a big apartment like this when before it wasn't like this and you enjoyed Aemond's company.

Now it's just you and Vhagar.

Then one afternoon when you come home from school and finish feeding Vhagar and start preparing food for yourself, suddenly the door opens and Aemond enters with a soft look, instantly observing you.

"Hello, pretty one."

You try not to look surprised and confused by his arrival, so you just don't let his nickname affect you and smile a little, just a little, in his direction.

"Hi."

He smiles a little more at you as his gaze turns to Vhagar who runs excitedly to greet him.

"Hello to you too my little one," he says tenderly and you see how he takes her in his arms, "I missed you."

You look away from him to continue cooking, not wanting to talk and preferring to ignore him in the same way he seems to ignore you by not showing up or sleeping here anymore, leaving you and Vhagar alone.

You want to know why he has suddenly appeared, but you control yourself from asking. Just as you tell yourself that you don't plan to say anything to him about moving into the dorm until you secure a job.

"What are you cooking?"

You hear him ask you as he approaches you.

"Fillet," you reply briefly.

"Do you mind if I ask you to cook one for me?" He asks with some care.

"No," you answer simply.

You really don't want to be rude to him, after all, this is your agreement, so you cook a fillet for him, waiting to serve everything.

"Do you have something to do today?"

He asks you suddenly and you continue cooking, without looking at him.

"Homework," you answer, "Why?"

"Ah... some classmates are coming to prepare an presentation we have tomorrow," he lets you know and you finally turn to look at him, "I hope you don't mind."

"No, it's fine," you assure him, turning your back on him again, "I'll be in my room, you know."

"Of course."

Quiet.

You continue cooking and he seems to be waiting for his food, so you don't say anything, mostly because you don't have anything to say.

You feel his gaze on you at almost all times, which you deliberately ignore, trying not to make a big deal of it.

When you start serving and finally turn your face to him to place the plates and also the glasses, feeling more firmly his gaze on you.

"Y/N...

And as soon as he says your name you knew he wasn't watching you silently for nothing, but because he was fighting himself to talk to you about something that had him in doubt.

"I know I haven't been around much..." he starts to say and you avoid letting out a sigh of irritation, "And I also know that I've left you alone with Vhagar—

"Yes, I know," you interrupt him in a nonchalant tone, "And that's okay, you have things to do and honestly so do I, believe it or not," you say quickly and then open the refrigerator, "Do you want soda or juice?"

Your clear disinterest for not wanting to talk about it makes Aemond stop talking and watch you in silence, feeling a little guilty for your attitude.

But you continue to watch him expectantly for an answer and he gives it to you after a few seconds of silence.

"Soda."

You nod and start filling the glasses. And at that, Aemond doesn't insist on the matter and simply remains silent, waiting for you to start eating together.

But he can't be like this anymore. He really wants to make things right and that's why he mentions the next:

"Don't think I forgot your birthday."

He says in an attempt to finally calm the tension between the two of you as you turn and hand him the glass and then take a seat in front of him.

"You don't?" you say almost sarcastically, almost.

"Of course not," she assures you, "It's this Friday. Aren't you excited?"

"Not really," you say honestly, "I have a project due that friday that has been causing me a lot of stress. I don't want to get a grade that isn't worth all the effort."

"Oh come on, you always get the best grades," he says with a small smile, "Don't worry, you'll see, everything will be fine."

And the next thing he does is to place his hand on top of yours to give it a gentle squeeze as he always used to do before in situations like these, just like you do with him.

At this, you try not to fall for him and his gestures, so you just nod thanking him with your eyes for his support and start eating, just like him.

"And what are your plans? Tell me," he asks you interested.

"Mmm..." You grimace, "In the morning I don't have much planned, just to talk to my parents," you confess, "After class my friends said they wanted to take me to a restaurant and at night to go out partying but... I'm still not sure about that."

"About what?"

"The party."

He takes a sip of his soda and looks at you confidently.

"Let's go."

"Where to?"

"The party."

"You want to go?" you frown.

"Of course I do," he says with a smile, "I want to celebrate and have fun with you on your birthday."

You raise your eyebrows expectantly at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, come on, I'll take you," he says more confidently than before, "In fact, since you won't be doing much in the morning, I could buy a cake for both of us, give you your present and I don't know, go out or watch a movie," he proposes, "Just me and you. Then I'll see you in the night and we'll go out and party."

So, for all that confidence in talking, even with that determination and that excitement in talking about making plans together on your birthday... you shouldn't but again you feel that hope come back to you.

That same spark and hope when he told you about the ball and in the end he did the complete opposite of what he promised you.

But this time... they are both talking about your birthday. You know and you know that he knows you're not just talking about anything.

That's why you stop feeling that little bitterness and forget about the conversation you overheard, you also stop considering going to live in the dorm because he just gives you hope.

"What do you say? Do you like the plan?" he observes you with a little excited smile.

And without being able to help it, you also smile softly in his direction, feeling how that emptiness in your chest fills up, leaving you feeling alone and ignored.

So you nod your head, avoiding showing too much of your happiness and illusion.

"Perfect."

And after you both finish eating, before his classmates arrive, you both make yourselves comfortable on the couches and talk about almost everything while Vhagar keeps you company.

And because of this, you feel more of that hope, that companionship that you had needed so much from him and finally everything is okay.

Everything feels okay.

All the following days, both Aemond and you go back to the old routine where you don't see each other as much and don't talk much.

But at least there is that feeling that between you everything is already fine and there are plans in place for the weekend that you couldn't be more excited and anxious about.

You've already planned everything with your friends as well, so it's sure to be a perfect day.

Until finally friday arrives and you expect to wake up to Aemond making a big fuss with that happy birthday children's song.

However, it doesn't.

You wake up to a chill in your room and also in the whole apartment when you realize that Aemond is not here. You check to see if he has left you a note or a text but nothing.

Instantly you think to yourself that he must be getting that cake he promised you, so you take a shower and get ready for the day.

Then you get congratulations from your friends and other family members. You even talk to your parents who are in your little town, Stone Hedge, in the Riverlands, working hard to support your studies.

And then when you finish getting ready, Aemond still doesn't show up, so you call him but he doesn't answer, you also send him messages but nothing.

[You]: I'll be waiting for you until 12PM. I have my class at 1PM.

And you send the message, wishing and hoping he'll be here soon.

Until the hours go by, he still doesn't answer, doesn't even return your calls, doesn't tell you anything and there definitely comes a time when you can't wait for him anymore.

And you control yourself. You don't want to think anything bad. You tell yourself that maybe something important came up at school.

So you stay positive, tell yourself that he will explain when you see him tonight, and leave the apartment to go to the university.

The moment you walk into your classroom, your friends greet you with big hugs, flowers and helium balloons wishing you happy birthday, which definitely lifts your mood.

And even more so when you turn in the most stressful project you've done so far in your entire career and with all the happiness and excitement in the world you see how you get graded with an A+.

And your friends are quick to say that it's all the more reason to celebrate tonight.

When the class is over, along with Aileen, Sara, Ryan and Ryan's friend James, you head to the restaurant they told you they wanted to take you to.

There they all order a bottle of wine and toast to your birthday and also to their good grades in this final project they handed in. Even the restaurant's employees bring you a small cake and together they sing happy birthday to you, feeling very nice.

Although unconsciously, you keep thinking about Aemond.

From time to time you check your phone to see if there are any answers from him yet, but nothing. So you really try not to think about him too much and fortunately, with the help of your friends, you succeed.

Until it starts to get dark and everyone says they should get ready to go to one of the many fraternity parties.

Ryan takes you with James to your house and expecting to see Aemond at the apartment, you arrive and no one is there except Vhagar.

You let out a long breath and call him one more time but nothing, so not to be late you get ready for the party.

You're hopeful that Aemond will eventually arrive, but even when you finish getting ready, nothing. And you know he won't show up or he would have already.

But there is still a little hope.

You think, confident and positive, because it is your birthday.

You ask Sara to pick you up and soon you are both arriving at the party where you meet your other friends who have also brought friends.

"What about your best friend, is he coming?"

Aileen asks you over the music and you, still wanting to feel confident, nod.

"Yeah, he might be a little late."

She nods and takes you to the kitchen to play with the other party games before everything here becomes a mess with so many people and louder music.

And you get distracted for a moment as you start to play and have some fun with the games.

You realize that you're actually having a great time despite Aemond's absence, but you still want to see him since it's your birthday.

That's why after a few hours have passed, the party is getting more crowded and everyone is starting to drink more, you check your phone and there's still nothing from him.

You turn away from everyone for a moment to call him but he doesn't answer. You look at the time and realize that it will be eleven o'clock at night and feeling a little worried now, you send him more messages.

[You]: where are you?

[You]: i have been trying to talk to you all day.

[You]: will you at least come to the party?

Nothing.

You let out a long, disappointed breath, yet you tell yourself that he couldn't have forgotten about your birthday, he just didn't.

He made the plans, he promised you a fun day, he said you two would be together.

But then... where is he?

As you walk back to the house, across the entire backyard, you finally feel your phone vibrate several times and you stop to turn the screen back on again, hopeful.

However... you wish you had not.

[aem❣]: sorry for not responding, I was busy all day with alys and we just finished having dinner with her parents.

[aem❣]: party?

And that's all he tells you.

So surprised and incredulous, somehow already expecting it since he didn't show up in the morning you think it can't be.

You can't really believe it and you wish you were so wrong but... it's the truth.

He forgot your birthday.

Your best friend really has forgotten your fucking birthday.

He doesn't tell you anymore, he doesn't say happy birthday, he doesn't apologize for his absence on your birthday, he just doesn't tell you anything.

He just asks you that, with that question being reason enough to give you to understand that he has forgotten the whole plan and your birthday.

And you don't cry.

You really don't want to cry. He doesn't deserve it.

So you avoid breaking down at that moment and just put your phone on silent to put it in your little bag, holding back the tears and enduring this huge sharp pain in your chest.

When that's when you decide you've had enough.

It's still eleven o'clock, you have one more hour to enjoy your birthday, then you'll have fun for the rest of the party and tomorrow you'll have time to feel bad about what your so-called best friend has done to you.

But this is not going to ruin what's left of your birthday.

So you suppress everything, mentally prepare yourself and go back to the party more confident and determined than ever to have fun with your friends who are here.

And that's what you do.

But after this, enough will definitely be enough.

taglist:

@hey-lucille @queenofshinigamis @winxschester @xcinnamonmalfoyx @ladymarg0t @yazzzmints @namoreno @wintrr13 @fan-goddess

[amirasainz]

Can you please do amira gets her wisdom teeth removal and is so loopy and adorable, the drivers and wags heart melt?

Sure, I hope you enjoy reading this. If you have a request, let me know.

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!

Her own kind of wisdom

Amira Sainz, Carlos Sainz Jr's beloved little sister, recently had her wisdom teeth removed. It certainly was no easy thing for her to do because, like most people, she was afraid of the dentist.

"No, please don't make me do this, Carlitos. I promise, I'll stop eating M&M's," she looked at him with big, tearful eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but this is for your own good," Carlos promised her.

She gave a tearful cry and turned to Rebecca, who was watching the whole interaction. She only shook her head sadly and petted Amira's hair lovingly.

After a dramatic goodbye with lots of tears and hugs, Amira was put under anesthesia, so she wouldn't feel anything. Thankfully, she easily fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Carlos, ever the protective big brother, was pacing up and down in the waiting room. An elderly lady was also sitting there, silently judging Carlos.

After two horrible hours, the small operation was finally done, and Carlos and Rebecca were able to see her.

As she woke up from the anesthesia, she was adorably loopy, her normally sharp wit dulled into a delightful haze.

"Carlos, Carlos, Carlos. Imagine if you get lost in the parking garage. Then you are truly Car...los. Get it?" she asked, her voice muffled because of the cotton balls inside her mouth. Carlos's only reaction was to stare with an empty expression into space.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Carlos had made sure to let a few of his closest friends from the F1 grid know about the procedure. Before long, a small group had gathered at the Sainz family home, including Lando, Charles, Fernando, and a few of the WAGs like Carmen and Lily. (Their boyfriends weren't allowed to come, by order of the best WAGs.)

The moment the trio returned home, everyone cooed over the paddock princess.

"Oh, my beautiful baby. Are you feeling better?" and "Look at you, my love," were the first things Carmen and Lily said to her before leading her to the couch. Fernando and Charles had already prepared a princess-worthy comfy space there with lots of blankets and pillows.

Amira, her cheeks puffed up and her words slurred, tried to engage everyone in conversation, her usual shyness replaced with an endearing boldness. She babbled about how the clouds must be made of marshmallows and insisted that Lando’s hair was a shade of blue. The room was filled with laughter, everyone’s hearts melting at her innocence and charm.

Carlos, though usually the fiercely protective older brother, couldn’t help but laugh along, his protective nature temporarily overshadowed by the sheer cuteness of the situation. He made sure to capture a few moments on his phone, knowing these would be memories to cherish.

As Amira drifted in and out of consciousness, mumbling sweet nonsense, the drivers and WAGs took turns sitting by her side, holding her hand, and ensuring she was comfortable. Their usual competitive edges softened.

After Amira fell asleep for real this time, cuddled up between Lily and Fernando, Charles couldn't help but say:" She really is a brave girl. If I were her, I would have already fainted seven times" making the group laugh.

"So, Lord Perceval. Where is your WAG Joris?" asked Carlos, which gained him a groan from Charles.