#the first four were easy but year the last one took longer

[hammill-goes-fogwalking]

🥗

get ready for...

-literally if the song was an emoji-

-in my interpretation it's about a food store-

the theme's obvious

[horangare]

lucky girl

pairing : model!jeonghan x fem!reader

content : smut (mdni), angst, fluff, fake dating, unrequited (but not rlly) love, friends to strangers to lovers

in which : jeonghan has no interest in a relationship, however it seems that everyone else is sticking their nose into his nonexistent love life. you’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember, but that was ages ago. he shouldn’t remember someone like you, but he does. and he wants you to be his girlfriend (just for a little while though, right?)

warnings : public sex TWICE (this mf fucks u everywhere but a BED), couch sex (see what i mean???), oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe i’m begging), idiots in love vibes like so strongly you two are dorks fr, dirty talk, y’all want each other so bad, praise, cockiness, like one innuendo, a bunch of other idols make features in this (twice, txt, le sserafim, and svt ofc), mentions of rehab, crying, “arguing”, jealousy, pining and yearning and things of that nature

wc : 14.9K words

note : this took me so much longer than i thought it would but it’s finally here 😭😭 written from this request

Junior year of highschool is when you first fell in love with Yoon Jeonghan.

You were the new girl. The transfer student. The awkward, hormonal, sixteen year old girl who felt oh so small in such a big school. The nobody.

Pretending like the lingering stares, the pointing, the whispering—all of it—was just a figment of your imagination was easy. You had been used to tuning things out. At acting like it didn’t phase you.

Private school was different than public school. Too different. The only reason you were in this place is because you were sent to live with your aunt because of the fact that your mother was in rehab and your dad wasn’t in the picture. Many of the public schools in the area weren’t the best, so she pulled some extra money from her savings to send you one of the nicer, private schools.

You were grateful, for her concern regarding where you went to school, but the huge contrast from transitioning to this new place was anything but easy. You may have looked just like everyone else, but you never felt like them. A bunch of self obsessed, privileged, stuck up rich kids. Yeah, you weren’t that. Not by a long shot. It’s like they could tell you didn’t belong here, but you already knew that.

All of them except for him.

Jeonghan had heard the mumbled talk of your arrival since he arrived on campus. He didn’t get what the big idea was. New kids came all the time, bought their way in with mommy and daddy’s help. Each and every other student here was one in the same. Predictable. Boring.

“Shit, look, there she is,” Joshua whispered amongst the small group of boys, his head jerking in your direction. The rest of them—Minghao, Mingyu, Soonyoung, and Jeonghan—all spared you a single glance or two.

Minghao chuckled dryly. “She’s gonna get eaten alive.”

"She's kinda hot though, don’t you think?" Soonyoung mumbled, trailing his eyes over your body. "That skirt is way too small for her."

“It’s like six in the morning. Can you not be horny right now?” Mingyu sighed, yet Soonyoung’s gaze remained on you until you disappeared from his line of sight. Jeonghan remained silent.

Joshua nudged his friend. “What? You have nothing to say?”

“What is there to say?” Jeonghan asked, swirling around his iced coffee that had been way too expensive to taste so cheap. “She’s a girl and she’s new.” Soonyoung booed him, loudly, attracting the attention of other passing students.

“You’re no fun.” He said and crossed his arms. Jeonghan gave him no response. “Whatever. How long do you think she’ll last?”

“I’ll give her until the end of the day,” Mingyu nodded. The others looked at him in disbelief, which made the boy roll his eyes. “What? I’m an optimist.”

Soonyoung hummed in thought, weighing his available options. “Four hours max.”

Minghao shook his head. “Two and a half.”

“I’m gonna say…One hour.” Joshua added. Then they all turned their heads to Jeonghan. He didn’t respond until the staring became unbearable.

“God, you’re all such pessimists, you know that?” He scoffed. “I’m not doing this with you today.”

“You have faith in her,” Minghao teased, poking the older boy in the side. “You’re so easy to read.”

“Cut that shit out.” Jeonghan hissed, pushing away Minghao’s hand. Minghao, Mingyu, and Joshua giggled. He was so easy to piss off.

“I’m gonna go talk to her,” Soonyoung cracked his knuckles with a confident—bordering on arrogant—smile.

“Seriously, don’t—” Minghao sighed, but the other boy was beyond reason. By the time he even said anything, Soonyoung was literally in your face.

The expression on your face was pensive, relaxed even. Until…

“Hey, new girl.”

You looked up, your eyes looking over him with disinterest. Soonyoung cleared his throat when you didn’t reply, running his hand through his hair in an attempt to relieve the awkward atmosphere.

“I’m Soonyoung, but you can call me Hoshi.”

“No.” You deadpanned.

His eyes widened. Were you serious? He could hear the others trying to keep in their laughter behind him.

“Is there something you need?” You asked, raising one of your eyebrows. Soonyoung stammered, only managing to speak the words “I…” or “what?” before he sighed and lowered his head.

“Hoshi, are you done making yourself look stupid yet?” Mingyu shouted, stopping between almost every word so he could laugh. By now, there was an even bigger scene being made by Mingyu’s additional comment, much to your embarrassment.

“Excuse me,” you mumbled to him as you scurried off to the bathroom, leaving not only Soonyoung shocked but also the little audience you had gathered shocked as well.

“Wow, what a smooth talker.” Joshua clapped, a wide grin on his face. “She was all over you.”

Minghao giggled. “I recorded the entire thing. Hey, who should I send this to first?”

“Oh fuck off,” Soonyoung hissed, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Nobody needs to see that shit.”

“Right, like half the school hasn’t already.” Jeonghan gestured to the multitude of people still lingering around in the hallways, huddled in groups whispering about the events that had just happened. Glancing at Joshua after you were gone, he smirked.

“So?” Joshua asked. “What’s your judgement?”

Jeonghan sipped the last of his drink, shaking it around and poking at the ice with his straw to see if there was any left. When he discovered none, he discarded the cup in the trash and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like her.”

You spent very little time in the bathroom, your visit only being to calm your nerves and steady your thoughts, but you didn’t expect to see the same boy and the rest of his friends huddled outside the bathroom waiting for you.

Wide-eyed, you stared between the five of them.“Um…hello?”

“Hi!” Mingyu smiled at you brightly, side eyeing Jeonghan when he nudged him aside. A quiet gasp slips past your lips; this boy was gorgeous.

“I assume you have a name? Or should we continue calling you new girl?”

“My name…?” You repeated, feeling your body growing warm at the proximity between the two of you. “Oh, my name. I’m [Y/n].” Jeonghan nodded, and then he smiled at you. You felt even hotter now. A little dumb, too, certain that you were embarrassing yourself.

“That’s cute,” he said, still smiling softly. Jeonghan threw one of his arms over your shoulder, keeping you close to him as he and the rest of his friends started to walk down the hallway. “So then, you’ll sit with us at lunch, right [Y/n]?” You stared at him, dumbfounded, unable to believe that he was actually being serious with you. Soonyoung, finding this funny, couldn’t help but laugh.

“Who’s stammering now?” He quipped, earning him a glare from Jeonghan. Soonyoung didn’t speak again.

“Sit with you?” You asked again, and Jeonghan nodded. “Are you sure?” Everyone’s eyes seemed to be on you as you were basically escorted down the hall with Jeonghan at your side, except this time it wasn’t your imagination. For some reason it felt like you were being stared at now more than ever.

“Of course we’re sure.” Joshua reassured you. When he looked close enough to fully take in the look on your face, he gave you a smile that was full of sympathy. “Ignore them. They’re all assholes. We’re the nice ones!”

Joshua was right, in a way. Jeonghan and his friends were the nicest group of assholes you’ve ever been associated with. It was one of those “mean to everyone except you” type of dynamics, especially with Jeonghan himself. You knew it wasn’t wise to, but you couldn’t help how your heart would beat faster whenever he was around since he only seemed to regard you as a close friend and nothing more.

You also couldn’t help but notice that he was as oblivious as he was cute. The others noticed, (Joshua was the first, obviously, then Minghao, then Mingyu, and then Soonyoung, who was heartbroken that you’d choose Jeonghan over him, and you didn’t know if he was joking or not) but he seemed like the only one who couldn’t get a hint. Even when you were being as direct and obvious as possible, Jeonghan still remained as unaffected by your affection as a white crayon did on white paper.

By senior year, you and Jeonghan started to grow apart. It was gradual, falling out of touch with one another as the last school year just passed you both by, until it seemed like Jeonghan was once again nothing but the cute boy you knew nothing about like he had been on your first day. The rest of the boys were devastated, Joshua most of all.

Aside from you, it seemed like he was the one who wanted Jeonghan to quit being dull and realize you liked him. Just tell him already, that’s what he’d always say. You always said you would, only to end up doing the opposite.

What if Jeonghan didn’t feel the same way? What if it destroyed your friendship? What if he never wanted anything to do with you after you told him? Each question seemed more unbearable than the last. It was easier to love him than to lose him.

The last time you saw him was at graduation. After the ceremony, roaming around the parking lot past all the smiling families taking pictures of their children with their brand new diplomas, looking for your aunt’s car—you ran into him.

“[Y/n]!” He called out to you, waving both of his arms in the air to draw your attention. He hugged you once you were close enough, squeezing you a little bit. “I’m sad now, we’re not going to see each other every day anymore,” he pouted, and you smiled, even though the thought of that saddened you just as much.

Having him act so naturally with you threw you for such a loop. Talking to him like this made it feel like your friendship hadn’t come to an end, like you two were old friends who had never been apart.

“Don’t be sad. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” You continued to smile, trying hard to make sure it didn’t look fake. You needed to believe what you were saying if you wanted him to do the same. Luckily for you it seemed effective, because Jeonghan’s face soon broke into a smile as well before he held his pinky up to you.

“Promise?”

Now you were smiling for real. Jeonghan, at the ripe age of eighteen, still believed deeply in pinky promises. They were sacred, never to be broken, those were his words. Others may have found him childish for this, you found it noble.

Nodding, you linked your pinky with his. “Promise.”

The promise you made with Jeonghan turned five today. Five years since senior year ended, five years since you made that promise with him, five years since you’ve seen Yoon Jeonghan’s face in person.

Now you saw him everywhere; on billboards, in ads, plastered on posters in the windows of just about every store—everywhere you went, Jeonghan’s face was sure to be there.

He was certainly doing better than you, no doubt. Odds are he wouldn’t even recognize you anymore. You worked at the local Ihop, drive your aunt’s old Toyota Camry, trying to save up enough money to move out of her house and into your own apartment.

You had wanted to attend college, even if only for a little, but your aunt only had enough money stashed away to send you to that ridiculously pricey private school, not to mention room she was already taking care of you for your mom while she was still…away, and you couldn’t afford to go into debt or pay anyone back.

So while Jeonghan walked runways in Milan and New York, you stayed in town and missed him every time his name was mentioned by one of your coworkers, forcing away the feelings you harbored for him.

Something like that was bound to happen to him, though. He was already so handsome, and his parents no doubt had the connections needed to allow something like that for their son. You were happy for him. Even after all this time, you continued to remain his biggest supporter. You’d buy every product he endorsed, watch any content he was featured in, and you’d stare at his pictures in awe, unable to believe that he just always seemed to get more and more good looking.

To Jeonghan, it was different. He enjoyed the attention. He liked being told by other people how handsome he was. He liked having people who adored him. But that was about it. Not once did he enjoy waking up early, rushing from shoot to shoot, sitting through meetings, none of it. He could live without the pressure to keep smiling, or the nagging from his parents, or—worst of all—the questions on his love life.

Jeonghan had never dated anyone since becoming a model, not even in private. There were zero scandals regarding a romantic relationship when it came to him, but the media was still unconvinced. He wondered how or why they always found the time to be so nosy. Why couldn’t they understand that’s just not what he was looking for right now?

“So Jeonghan, I think you all know the question on every one of our minds, right?” Jihyo asked with a smile, shifting around in her seat a little. Jeonghan responded with his convincing fake laughs—he had to have them mastered by now after all the invasive questions he’d constantly be asked by people like the paparazzi, or in this case, talk-show hosts. “Is there a special girl in your life that you’re hiding from us?”

The audience erupted into a fit of “ooo’s” and “aah’s” all while Jeonghan tried to hide his discomfort with the subject. “Honestly, Jihyo? There really is nobody right now. I’m just…not interested in dating.”

“Oh, come on! Are you sure you’re not seeing anyone in secret?” The sound of Jihyo’s laughter echoed through the studio as is blended with the reactions from the audience. Jeonghan laughed along with her, wondering how much longer he’d be here. He’d already had to have a long meeting with his parents and his agency this morning, then done a product endorsement for a cosmetics brand afterwards, and now he was here, entertaining Jihyo and her live studio audience. Today was relatively low maintenance for him, so after he left here there was only one thing he wanted to do before going home; eat.

Jeonghan shook his head, a small smile on his face. “If I were seeing someone, they wouldn’t be a secret.”

Jihyo’s face lit up in surprise, her mouth parting as she took in his response. “Wow! It seems like Jeonghan is that kind of boyfriend, huh?” Various reactions came from the crowd, most of them being screams of Jeonghan’s name praising him for his response. “All right, that’s all the time we have for today, but tune in tomorrow to hear Jo Yuri talk about her acting debut! That’s all for now!”

“Alright, that’s it people! Let’s wrap it up!”

Jeonghan exhaled with relief, saying a polite goodbye to Jihyo before he excused himself off the set and to his car. He cursed when he noticed how dark the sky was beginning to get. Most of the places he wanted to go would be closing by now. He thought hard to remember the places that stayed open late, then remembered that the local Ihop was always open. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the place, not by a long shot, but he’d just have to suck it up for the sake of his hunger.

Business at work had been slow today. It was only Monday, and you never got too much of a crowd during the start of the week, especially not when it was so early in the morning. Chaewon had suggested the two of you take a short break in the bathroom (though knowing her, she just wanted to gossip).

“No way, [Y/n]. You’re telling me you really knew Jeonghan in high school?” Chaewon asked you, leaning against the bathroom sink as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. “What was he like?”

You shrugged as you washed your hands. “He was nice. Well, he was nice to me.” This made Chaewon gasp and grab onto your shoulder, pressing her lips together to try and hide the smile creeping onto her face.

“Oh my gosh, he was totally into you!”

Yoon Jeonghan? Into you? You laughed dryly, really finding your friend’s enthusiasm cute, but at the same time you seriously doubted it. If what he said in those interviews were true, there was no chance. He wasn’t interested in dating; in relationships altogether.

You were just about to respond to her when the door to the bathroom flew open. Sakura, your manager, was standing in the doorway staring at the two of you like she’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t have.

“What are you two still doing in here?” She asked. “Someone is waiting to have their order taken.”

“Coming,” you sighed, patting your hands dry with three paper towels too many and rushing out behind Sakura. You approached one of the booths closer to the entrance, notepad in hand. “Welcome to Ihop, what can I—”

The person sitting in the booth lowers the menu, and time seems to stop. He looks up at you. You look down at him. It was like neither of you could believe you were seeing each other in this setting, of all places.

“Jeong…han?” You mumbled, blinking rapidly to see if he was really the person sitting there. He couldn’t really be here, could he? But then he smirked and you were convinced; he was real.

“It’s good to see you too, [Y/n].” He muses, flipping back and forth through the menu a few more times before setting in down on the table. He soaks in the dumbfounded look on your face with an overly smug smile. “Don’t just stand there, sit.”

“I’m the waitress, I can’t just—”

“Sit.”

You slid down into the seat across from him without missing a beat. A part of you felt embarrassed for giving into him so easily, the part of you with dignity.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, which got you an amused laugh from Jeonghan.

“I’m hungry, [Y/n]. Why else do people come to Ihop?”

Well, it was good to know he was still a smart ass after all this time. Even if you were attracted to him, then and now, you still couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Okay, you know that’s not what I mean.”

Jeonghan tilted his head to one side. “I live here too, remember?” Then he sighed and laughed weakly. “Has it really been that long?”

A frown found its way onto your lips. Maybe it has been that long, it was like Jeonghan was suddenly a stranger to you even after the time you’d spent together in school. Thinking about that made something inside of you ache.

“I guess it has.” You mumbled. Your eyes remained locked on the table and not Jeonghan, not even when he started to give you his order. Sliding out of the seat, you gave him your usual service industry smile. “I’ll be right back with that.”

You scrambled to the kitchen, handing off the order to the cooks. “Hey, Chaewon, can you go bring the customer out there his drink?”

Slightly skeptical, Chaewon glanced down at the glass in your hand yet took it anyway. “Why can’t you go bring it to him? You already took his order.”

“Just help me out, okay? Just this once?” The girl sighed, mumbling under her breath as she exited the kitchen. You try to take this moment to finally catch your breath and calm your nerves, but it’s quickly ruined when you hear a shriek, followed by Chaewon running back to the kitchen, a starstruck look on her face.

“Yoon Jeonghan is in our restaurant,” she says, her hand clutching the front of her shirt. “And he’s asking for you, [Y/n].”

Of course he’s asking for you. There was no way you’d get out of this little reunion with him so easily. Jeonghan never let things be simple, you’d learned that quickly from your time being friends with him.

“Just bring the food once it’s ready, Chae,” you muttered, walking out of the kitchen and back to the booth Jeonghan was seated at. He looked up at you, pointing to the spot across from him, and you sat. “Is there something you want from me, Jeonghan?”

“Just some company,” He replied with a faux pout. He noticed that you were still looking at him like you could see through his lie, so he shrugged and smiled. “Okay, fine. I really did come here to eat, but I do need help with something else too.”

Raising your eyebrows, you urged him to continue. “I need you to be my girlfriend.” If you had opened your eyes any wider, they probably might have popped out of your head.

“W-What?” You shouted. Jeonghan put one of his fingers to his lips to shush you, which only helped to get you quiet and not to calm your racing heart. “But you’re always saying…”

“Listen,” He held one of your hand with both of his. “I know, I know. I’m always saying I’m not looking to date right now. But that’s exactly why I need you. I’m hoping to get everyone off my fucking back even if it’s just for a little while. Once the news of our relationship dies down, we can call it quits.”

You felt like this was a really vivid dream; like your subconscious was playing an elaborate trick on you and that none of this was actually real. Jeonghan squeezed your hand and looked at you expectantly. This must’ve been really important to him, and he was counting on you. Curse your simple heart, seven years had passed and you still felt like the love struck sixteen year old you were when you first met him.

This was a bad idea. No, this was a terrible idea. You should tell him that. There is no way you should say—

“Okay, fine. But only until the news dies down.”

Jeonghan grinned, visibly pleased with your response.

“I knew I could count on you.”

Thinking with your brain was always hard for you to do whenever you even thought about him, so having him make such a large request of you was basically keeping you from acting with any sort of rationality.

But Jeonghan didn’t need to know all that. You propped your elbow up on the cool surface of the table and leaned your head into the palm of your hand, swallowing down your apprehension. “What are friends for?”

When you woke up the next morning, the only thing on your mind was Jeonghan. Your interaction with him at your job hadn’t been a dream. He had asked you to be his (pretend) girlfriend, and you had agreed. You partly regretted the decision like you would a hangover, knowing that you still had feelings for him and telling him you’d go along with his plans could only end so many ways. You’d have to stop thinking with your heart so often.

In your moment of doubt, you received a text from Jeonghan. After he had finished his very late lunch yesterday, he tore off a piece of the receipt and scribbled down his phone number on it for you to keep, leaving you behind with a generous tip and a fuzzy feeling in your stomach. Fucking butterflies.

He’d also left you a very lovely, romantic text.

I’m picking you up at 7:45.

Ever the charmer. You checked the time; it was exactly 7. You groaned and hoped that this wouldn’t become an everyday thing, you didn’t even go into work this early.

Jeonghan ended up arriving outside your aunt’s house ten minutes later than he said he would, which only made you feel dumb for racing against the clock to make yourself look presentable.

He kept his eyes on you as you buckled up. “Good morning.” You side-eyed him, just barely making out the stupid lopsided grin on his lips.

“For you, maybe.”

“You’ll get used to it, I already have.”

So this would be an everyday thing. Great.

Accompanying Jeonghan around had given you a unique perspective on your own life. You had already thought there was a lot on your own plate, but Jeonghan, you weren’t sure how he handled it all. Sitting through meetings, fittings, hair and makeup, and photoshoot after photoshoot was tiring you out and you weren’t even the model.

You did like the rush of pride you got whenever Jeonghan introduced you as his girlfriend. Getting to see the shocked look on the faces of the people who worked beside him made you feel like you were important. If you didn’t have to get up so early all the time, maybe this was something you could get used to.

“It’s boring, right?” Jeonghan said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, waving away the man that was wiping off his makeup. “The sitting around, the waiting, all of it. You’re bored, aren’t you?”

You raised one of your eyebrows. “Why would you think I’m bored?” You asked. “Are you bored?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed in reply. “I would’ve rather done pretty much anything else. I mentioned being a model, like, one time and they just went with it. I didn’t wanna argue with my parents, though.” He shrugged, and that was it.

There was a sudden awkward tension in the air with Jeonghan’s overly honest confession. You glanced at the man who was in charge of removing his makeup, sharing a sheepish look with him before breaking eye contact. He was two for two on the eye opening revelations today, and you weren’t too sure you could handle a third.

Clearing your throat, you tried to think of a way to steer the conversation into a different direction. “So, uh, where to after this?”

“The gym. I would’ve gone tomorrow but Joshua said he’d meet me there.”

Finally, a break in this drag of a schedule of his. And you’d get to see Joshua. You could feel your boredom melting away like ice on a hot day as you got up and stretched.

“I’ll be in the car.”

So, about the visit to the gym…

It was fine at first. Normal. You greeted Joshua, hugged him, expressed how good it was to see him and how much you had missed him after all this time, and he smiled and done the same.

Speaking of Joshua, he had almost screamed when Jeonghan mentioned that you and him were seeing each other, and when he looked at you to confirm that he was telling the truth, he did scream, earning him confused and concerned stares from the people around you. Lying to him warded off the happy feeling you had built up on the way over here in a heartbeat, so you stayed silent for the duration of his workout with Jeonghan.

“Shit, dude, I gotta go. Something just came up,” Joshua apologized quickly and rushed out of the building, leaving just you, Jeonghan, and a small handful of other people rich or important enough to get into this private space.

You weren’t sure why, maybe it was the hot, sticky air of the gym. Maybe it was Jeonghan sitting there, all sweaty and panting and looking at you with that stupidly sexy smirk on his face. Maybe it was a bunch of other things you couldn’t bring your mind to conjure up the words for, but something was about to happen, you could feel it.

“I should shower.” Jeonghan suddenly said, parting his sweaty body from the machine he had been occupying. His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place. “Wanna join?”

That’s the short version of how you ended up pressed up against the wall gym shower, your back to Jeonghan as he took you from behind. Your head spun with desire and a dash of shame. Even though it felt really good, you hadn’t even kissed Jeonghan once since declaring your status as (fake) girlfriend and boyfriend.

“Oh, baby. If I had known you felt this good I’d have done this ages ago,” Jeonghan moaned into your ear, and you could feel your knees buckle under you. That sweet-talking mouth of his would definitely be a problem for you, you were calling it now. Hearing such vulgar comments fall from his lips so naturally made you wonder why he was so good at this.

“F-Fuck, Jeonghan. Don’t stop…” The tiles of the small shower felt cold and wet against your skin, the feeling being the only thing keeping you somewhat grounded. Jeonghan’s hands held your hips tightly when you almost slipped as he mumbled something about being careful. If you weren’t in this position you’d have slapped him. “You’re not funny.”

Jeonghan isn’t bothered by your remark in the slightest. He snaps his hips forward, loving the way you gasp and push yourself back to meet his thrusts. He really thought you looked cute like this, so easily losing your composure because of him. He knew about the effect he could have on people, but none of them mattered now that he saw how you reacted to him. “Tell me how it feels baby.”

“So good, Jeonghan. F-Feels so fucking good.” You whined, your mine tuned in on the feeling of his wet skin against yours and the sounds of both of your moans.

“That’s right, feels so good. You’re so cute, you know that?”

Your muscles clenching around his cock when he said that was the one thing that seemed to have Jeonghan lose his cool. He nestled his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin there while he rubbed your clit in fast circles, urging you closer and closer to the bliss of your release.

“Gonna…I’m g-gonna—” You try to say only to be cut off by your own hoarse wail of Jeonghan’s name as your orgasm hits you. Afraid that you might fall, Jeonghan holds onto you even tighter all while continuing to fuck you through your high. He glances down, biting his lip at the sight of the white ring forming at the base of his cock and the streaks of cum streaking down your inner thighs. Never did he think a visual so filthy would get him off, but he couldn’t help but bite your shoulder and curse quietly as he felt himself cum.

The water had gone cold by now, making the realization of just how long you’d been in here weigh heavy on your mind. Jeonghan squeezed one of your hips before he pulled out of you and stepped out to find some towels. You turned off the cool water, leaning back against the same wall you’d just been fucked against and sighed.

Now you really couldn’t go back.

Out of nowhere, a hauntingly embarrassing thought crawled its way into your mind. “Oh no,” you gasped. “Jeonghan, what if someone heard us?” He just laughed at your panicked words.

“Private gym, private showers.” He explained, smiling when you visibly relaxed. “You make some pretty funny faces, has anyone ever told you that?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a smile on your face. “Yeah, you have, back in school.” There had been many instances in your teenage years where Jeonghan had often laughed harder to your reactions to certain events more than the event itself, and he’d always tell you how “fascinating” your range of facial expressions were. History does repeat itself after all. “Has it really been that long?” Hearing the words he’d said to you the other day elicited a soft chuckle from Jeonghan as he pulled your body closer to his, wrapping one of the warm towels around your shivering frame.

You didn’t like the way your heart was beating faster at an action as simple as that as if he hadn’t just had his way with you in that little cubicle this place dared to call a shower, but you just laughed with him and hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

“I guess it has.”

When you returned to work on Friday, you received a warm welcome from your favorite coworker and best friend.

Translation: Chaewon screaming at the top of her lungs and shaking you back and forth.

“You didn’t tell me you’re DATING YOON JEONGHAN!” Her grip was entering bruise territory. “I thought we were friends!”

“Chaewon, please,” Sakura sighed, prying you out of her arms. “You’re dating that boy that came in the other day? What’s the big deal?”

Chaewon had never looked so shocked. Well, that’s a lie, but right now that’s just how her face looked. “The big deal is him! He’s literally everywhere, Sakura. He’s YOON JEONGHAN!”

The customers could no doubt hear her frantic screaming from the kitchen despite your best efforts to make her quiet down. Unfortunately trying to get Chaewon to calm down was like trying to get a penguin to fly.

“How do you even know about that anyway?” You asked. Chaewon held up a finger, quickly pulling her phone out of her pocket and typing a few words into google and hitting search. She held it out to you and Sakura, and your jaw dropped.

Pictures of you and Jeonghan leaving the gym together, hand in hand, along with a plethora of articles inquiring about your identity as Jeonghan’s girlfriend. Your face wasn’t visible in any of them, but anyone who knew you could tell that you were the one beside him in those photos.

“Oh, wow. Yeah, that’s you alright.” Sakura hummed without even sparing you a glance. “That’s nice. He’s a handsome guy. Good for you, [Y/n].”

You smiled, feeling a little awkward with all the sudden attention. “Thanks, Kkura.” You couldn’t even prepare yourself to be grabbed by Chaewon a second time, so you just let it happen.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

“Uh…”

“You can talk after work,” Sakura sighed, pulling you away from Chaewon once again. “[Y/n]’s boyfriend will still be with her after her shift is over.”

You really hoped so.

For almost the entirety of your shift, you were somewhat unfocused on your actual job and more on the leaked pictures of you and Jeonghan. Never had you been used to having so much attention on you, especially over a guy. Of course, Jeonghan wasn’t just any guy, but still. All of the hype had to be because of what he’d always preached about not being interested in dating, no doubt, but other than that your sentiment was similar to that of your manager’s: what’s the big deal?

Chaewon also seemed off, though it was mostly only because she couldn’t wait to pick your brain about your relationship with the model. She kept looking at you and smiling for the entirety of your shift, and you’d just try and pretend you didn’t see her. It was working fine until you know who came back to pay you another unexpected visit.

“Hey, your boyfriend is here!” She whispered to you when you returned from a quick trip to the bathroom. You felt confused and surprised at the same time, he was supposed to be…anywhere but here right now. The stupid organ in your chest jumped when you considered the possibility that he was actually here for you.

Making your way to the front of the restaurant, Jeonghan stood there, hands in his pockets, looking pleased to see you.

“Jeonghan, what are you doing here?” He pouted at you.

“Is that the only question you know how to ask me?” You crossed your arms, not in the mood for his little games right now. “Sorry, fine. I wanted to see you. Make sure you’re handling the news well.”

“News…? Oh, that.” You weren’t too thrilled to talk about your sudden rise to fame even though it had been the only thing on your mind ever since finding out from Chaewon today. Kind of ironic. “It’s whatever, I guess. I mean, I couldn’t believe it when Chaewon showed me the pictures, but that was pretty much it.” You shrugged.

“Wow,” Jeonghan hummed. “Have you always been this blunt? Where’s the girl with the bob? I like her energy better.” He started to laugh, the sound only getting louder when you hit him on the chest. You knew didn’t hurt him, not even in the slightest, and his cute giggling only made you madder. Damn him and his smart mouth. “Just kidding, baby.”

And there he goes with the nicknames again. Seriously, damn him and his smart talking, filthy, mouth and all the words he’d speak with it to get you all flustered.

“You never answered me. Don’t you have a photo shoot or a fitting, or, I don’t know, somewhere else to be instead of Ihop on a Friday?”

Jeonghan just smiled at you. “Forgive me for wanting to just stop by and say hello to my girlfriend.”

“Jeonghan.”

Your eyes watched him as he tried to bite back the smile on his lips to no avail. He nodded slowly, seemingly getting the hint that you could always manage to see right through him. He didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing.

“Alright, alright. You remember that show I was on not too long ago? The one with Jiyho?” Of course you remembered. Chaewon had sent the link to the video once it was uploaded to youtube (like she did with everything involving Jeonghan) along with a bunch of incorrectly spelled words in all caps expressing her excitement and disbelief. He continued speaking once you nodded. “Yeah, so, she pretty much wants me back on the show…with you.” He puts his hands on your shoulders, waiting for you to object to the whole thing.

But you don’t object. You glance to the side once, then back at him, and shrug like you had done moments earlier. “Okay. I’m off on Wednesdays and Thursdays.” The man in front of you sighed and shook his head.

“She wants us there tomorrow. Can’t you get someone else to come in for you, or something?”

You exhaled a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Fine. But you owe me, okay? This is coming out of my paycheck.” The look of utter happiness on Jeonghan’s face whenever you give into him is something you think you’ll never get tired of seeing, like he really thought it’d take more convincing to get you to say yes. You’ve literally been wrapped around his finger since you were sixteen, it was honestly surprising that he had the nerve to explain himself to you sometimes when you damn near lacked the ability to say no to him.

“You’re the best,” he was still smiling when he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, okay? Wear something cute.”

You made some sort of strange yet quiet noise of acknowledgment, watching him with slightly parted lips as he walked out of the doors and back to his car. Jeonghan had just kissed you. On the forehead, yeah, but it was still a kiss. And not like he had kissed you in the shower, either, this one felt different. Tingly. You’d have probably stayed rooted to that spot if Sakura hadn’t started yelling for you to get back to work.

“Coming!”

Mornings always seemed to come too fast for you, especially when you were going anywhere with Jeonghan. Time had to be speeding up on purpose knowing that you were always rushing to get ready lest you make Jeonghan late to one of his unmissable and very important (that you were still shocked to discover how much he despised) events.

You were worried about wearing the “wrong thing” even though you had no idea you should wear for something like this and texted Jeonghan for help last night. He responded with a short explanation of what he’d be wearing and said that you could just wear whatever you thought would match or complement what he’d have on. And then he’d sent one more a few minutes after that. One that read:

good night [y/n] sleep thigh

You had responded with a series of question marks, expecting some kind of explanation or clarification, but he must’ve gone to sleep right after that because there was no response for the rest of the night.

So when you had settled yourself into the passenger seat of his car, you’d decide to question him about it now.

“Oh, I meant sleep tight,” Jeonghan told you. He pointed at the seatbelt, staring at you until you were buckled up and only then did the car start to move. “Were you really thinking about that all night? Even I make spelling mistakes, [Y/n].”

You could sense that he was about to start laughing even before you started talking. “No! I just…whatever, nevermind.” And you’d been right, Jeonghan laughed just like he always did whenever you seemed to make what you considered a fool of yourself in front of him. He noticed that you were frowning from the corner of his eye and placed one of his hands on your thigh. You flinched at the contact.

“What?” He asked, starting to pull it away, but you grabbed it and placed it back down.

“Nothing.” You shook your head. “It’s nothing. Your hands are just cold.” This made him smirk. He poked your cheek, your forearm, and your upper thigh, the smile on his face getting wider each time you shivered and tried to push it away. “Quit it!”

“You like it,” he was giggling now, and you were too. You didn’t even realize that you were until he had pointed to your mouth and laughed even harder. As long as Jeonghan had known you, you’d never giggled before. He joked that he was starting to rub off on you as he poked you with his cold fingers one more time. “I like that dress, by the way.” His hand found its way back to your thigh, feeling slightly less cold now. Maybe the heat of your body was warming him up, because you definitely felt hot right now.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm. You wore it just for me, didn’t you?”

Your eyes grew the slightest bit wider. That was partly the truth, yes. You’d also worn it because he’d told you to wear something nice and this dress just so happened to be one of the nicest pieces of clothing you owned that was appropriate for an event like this. The former option seemed to be the one he was more interested in though, seeing as how he was pushing up the hem of the dress and glancing at your underwear—and the wet patch on it.

“Well, yeah, you kinda told me to.” Jeonghan loved the fact that you were actively choosing to either ignore the fact that you were wet right now or pretend like it didn’t faze you. He pressed one of his (still somewhat cold) fingers on the spot and started to rub it, making you shiver and moan. “J-Jeonghan, you’re doing this now?”

“Ah, you know what? You’re right. My hands are still cold, aren’t they?” He mumbled, but his hand stayed placed firmly against your upper thigh. You hated the way you whined at his teasing and the way you craved more. “Aww, baby. I was just doing what you wanted. Are you mad at me now?”

“You’re literally the worst!” Huffing, you slapped his hand away and Jeonghan, stubborn as ever, just placed it right back down on your thigh. “Don’t touch me.” You tried sounding stern despite the way you were starting to grin, much to Jeonghan’s amusement.

“I owe you one, okay?” His voice was full of nothing but sincerity as he pulled the edges of your dress back down. “Put on a good show for Jihyo and I’ll let you cum as many times as you want later, deal?”

Your response came immediately, like you hadn’t even had to think about it. “Deal.”

Jihyo was even prettier in person. You weren’t used to seeing her without her hair in a bob, like Chaewon, but she seemed to be in the process of growing her hair out. Her skin was a little tanner in person and she had a smile that was kind and natural, which made you feel at ease.

“So, everyone, I’m sure you’ve all seen the pictures, right? Of Jeonghan and his supposed girlfriend?” Jihyo turned so that she faced the audience, nodding along at their responses. “I know, I saw them too, and when I tell you my jaw literally dropped. I was like, I’ve gotta get him back on the show. Well here he is, everyone! And with his mystery girl too!” She held one of her arms out and the audience erupted into applause seeing you and Jeonghan hand in hand walk onto the set. Jihyo clapped as well, watching the two of you the whole time while you took your seats beside each other.

“It’s good to be back, Jihyo. Thanks for having me.” Jeonghan was as polite as ever, his fingers still interlaced with your own. The woman just scoffed and shook her head.

“Oh, it’s nothing! You know how much of a joy you are to have on set.” Then she turned to you, eyebrows shooting up. “And you! What’s your name, sweetie?”

“I’m [Y/n].” The smile on your face was a little awkward, but the audience still received the interaction positively and applauded once more.

“Well [Y/n], aren’t you a lucky girl?” She leaned a little forward in her seat. “You’re doing what a lot of other girls could literally only dream of. How does it feel to be dating Jeonghan?”

It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s like a dream come true. It’s perfect, in every sense of the word. And it’s all one big lie.

“It’s…it’s really crazy to think about it, you know? Like, I’m just a normal girl, but I’m dating him?” You ended your reply by gesturing to Jeonghan, both of you smiling. More clapping came from the audience. It seemed to be going well.

“That’s totally understandable. If I were you, I would’ve lost it. You probably did lose it a little, I would imagine, right?” You nodded at her question, recalling the day he had proposed the whole idea to you. Thinking about how you managed to keep your nerves under control in that situation amazed you, followed by a surge of pride for being able to keep up your act on nonchalance so well when in Jeonghan’s presence. So in Jihyo’s words, yeah, you did lose it just a little.

“Right, right. And you, mister, how long has this been going on?” Jihyo pointed one of her neatly manicured fingers right at Jeonghan. “I remember you saying you’d never keep that special someone a secret.”

Jeonghan leaned back and rested his hands flat on the arms of his chair. “[Y/n] wasn’t ready to be in the public eye. She was just nervous, and I’d never make her do something she didn’t want to. Forgive me.” Seeing the fake pout on his lips caused one to form on Jihyo’s face as well. He was pretty good at this lying on the spot stuff. Maybe a little too good.

“You sweet thing. What a considerate boyfriend. Anyone else feeling a little bit jealous right now?” Jihyo glanced at the audience, responding as eagerly as ever. “I’m definitely feeling a little envious. Like just a pinch. No, but seriously, I wanna know everything. Oh, tell us this: who fell in love first? I’m really curious.”

You sat up in your seat a little straighter. Should you answer? Should you tell the truth? Would Jeonghan finally get the hint you just confessed right now, or would he think you’re just playing along?

“I did.” You snapped your head in Jeonghan’s direction, and you felt tingly again. It didn’t help that he winked at you either, insinuating that this was yet another lie and that you should continue to act naturally. The audience was eating this up.

Jihyo held her hands over her open mouth, looking between you and the crowd. “Wow! I…just wow! I’m so shocked! I was expecting you to be the one who…” She couldn’t even finish speaking given her exasperation, but you could read between the lines. Jihyo wasn’t the only one thrown for a loop with his answer, you genuinely had no idea he would say that. “[Y/n], sweetie, did you know he was the one who liked you first?”

“No,” you were being honest for the first time. “I’m just as shocked as you are.” You look at Jeonghan once again, your eyes immediately noticing the smug look written all over his face. You didn’t like it.

A few more questions later, Jihyo announced that there was “no more time, sorry, i know,” and started to dismiss everyone on the set. You and Jeonghan gave her one last round of polite smiling and goodbyes before you let Jeonghan escort you back to his car. The difference in your moods was stark; Jeonghan seemed to be on cloud nine while you were still hung up over what he had told Jihyo earlier.

“Um, Jeonghan, about what you said back there…”

“I know, right! Did you see the faces of the people in the audience?” He looked so happy, sounded so happy. Anyone could tell he was enjoying the attention. You weren’t. You wanted answers.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I saw them. They really just eat up anything you say, even if you’re lying.”

For the first time in a while, you noticed a dramatic change in Jeonghan’s expression. It was only for a second, maybe less, but it happened. Something like nervousness mixed with a dash of sadness and a pinch of guilt mixed together and slapped right onto the canvas of his face to create the masterpiece of his composure being lost. And then just as quickly as he let it fall, he slapped the mask back onto his face in the form of that carefree grin.

“I know, and I’m sorry baby. I’ll drop you off and then we’ll talk all about it.”

Jeonghan was good at keeping his promises. He kept the one you made at graduation to see you again—which was probably just dumb luck, but it counted. He kept the one he made to you after you left the gym and brought you to your favorite coffee place so you could a drink and a cake pop. He even kept the one he made to you in Junior year when you dropped Minghao’s phone in the pool (you both blamed it on Mingyu). He had not kept his promise to talk to you about what he said in the interview with Jihyo. You were too occupied with his other promise (technically, it was a deal) you’d made with him before that.

“You’re a natural on camera, baby,” He whispered into your ear, running his hands up and down your sides. Jeonghan had his hand down your underwear the whole drive back to your aunt’s house, and when he finally pulled into the driveway, you were scrambling into his lap. Seeing you so worked up made Jeonghan feel good. He leaned back the drivers seat and let you grind against his erection, flooding the inside of your mind until you could think of nothing but him. “I can tell they just loved you.”

“You really talk too much sometimes,” You mumbled. Jeonghan loved nothing more than when you talked back to him, it only made things more fun when he watched you fall apart on his cock in the moments that would follow. “You and your filthy mouth.”

“Shut me up then.”

Jeonghan licked his lips, and you watched him do so with bated breath. He was challenging you. Up until now, you had never kissed each other. You were afraid that if you did, some kind of invisible, imaginary line would be crossed and then it’d be that much harder to let him go. But what the hell, you’d already had him balls deep inside of you, what was a kiss compared to that?

His perfect, pink, lips were calling out to you like a siren does a sailor. There was no resistance when you finally kissed him, finally feeling the softness of his lips against your own. Jeonghan pulls you closer, the sudden friction between your bare core and his clothed cock making the two of you moan into the other’s mouth.

“Ride me,” He whispered with need. Need, you thought, Jeonghan needed this from you. This would’ve been the ideal time to tease him back considering his current state. But fuck, you needed him too.

Jeonghan helped you unbutton his pants and slide them down along with his boxers just enough for you to sink down onto his aching cock. It felt different, but not in a bad way. He felt so much deeper, so much better, so much closer.

He let a chuckle slip past his lips. “Your heart…it’s beating fast.” His ability to be snarky and annoying never seemed to escape him.

“Is yours not?” You asked him while you rocked your hips back and forth lazily. The last thing you wanted to do was rush this moment, this might be the last time you got to have him like this, you wanted it to last. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around one of your wrists and placed it flat against his chest.

His heart was beating just as fast as yours.

There was probably a word out there somewhere to properly convey the emotions you were feeling, not that you could think of it right now with the way Jeonghan was scrambling not only your insides—but your mind, too.

Neither of you spoke again after that. You became caught up in the moment, in the way each other felt. Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered closed when the motions of your hips became faster, the obscene sound of his moaning overpowering your own gasps and whines of pleasure. He looked a fucked out mess; swollen lips, dark eyes, messy hair, the whole nine yards. If your eyes could take pictures, you’d want a million of him in this moment.

Jeonghan couldn’t stop kissing you. He’d been waiting for you to take the initiative, to let go of your hesitation. And now he was addicted to you and the way you kissed him and slipped your tongue into his mouth like you just couldn’t get enough.

“‘M gonna fucking cum, baby,” he breathed, thrusting up into you without warning. You wrapped your arms around his neck, panting, feeling yourself get close too. He kissed you, sloppily, his dick bruising the spongy spot inside you until you were seeing white. No less than a few seconds later Jeonghan was doing the same, your sloppy cunt milking him dry. You stayed like that for a while, his forehead pressed to yours, until the speed and sound of your breathing fell into the same rhythm.

“I’ve gotta go,” is how he chose to break the silence, kissing you to silence your whine of protest. “I know, I’m sorry. But hey, my family is having a party in a few weeks. Some business shit, probably for publicity. I don’t know all the details, but they told me to bring you so they could finally meet you in person.”

You couldn’t muster any other response aside from a sigh. “I’ll be there.”

He kissed you one last time. “That’s my girl.”

One promise kept, another one broken.

“You know, that day you asked me to cover your shift, I didn’t expect it was because you were running off with your boyfriend to go on some talk show,” Yeonjun mumbled, taking the somewhat heavy box labeled “bathroom” out of your hands and walking it to that room. “It must be nice, right?” His voice echoed through the empty space of your new apartment.

“Why, you jealous?” You could hear him scoff all the way from the bathroom, making you and Chaewon laugh.

It’s been two weeks since you’ve heard from Jeonghan. His schedule has gotten increasingly busier ever since his reappearance on Jihyo’s show (which only made the news of your relationship more popular) , and you missed him for a multitude of reasons. One of them being that talk you never had about what he’d said that day. Every time you’d try to bring it up with him there was always a way he managed to weasel his way out of giving you an answer, so you’d given up trying at this point.

In better news, you’d finally managed to save up enough money to move out of your aunts house and into a decent little apartment downtown. It was kind of small, but it was just you, so you were fine with it. Today you’d finally started to move in most of your things. Joshua, Mingyu, and Soonyoung would come over tomorrow to help you set up your bed and shelves and other things that required the ability to decipher Ikea instructions. Minghao would come too, but not to help put anything together. He just wanted to scope out the place and advise you on the best way to decorate it.

So for now it was just you, your coworkers, and a couple of boxes containing the few things that you owned.

“What was it like seeing Jihyo in person?” Chaewon asked, taking a seat on the edge of the kitchen counter.

“She was nice. And pretty. She’s also more tan in person.” You replied. “I really need to go to the store, I’ve barely got any real furniture.” You stared into your box labeled “kitchen” and felt taunted by the plastic cutlery that rested inside.

There was a sudden knock at the door. You looked at Chaewon and she shrugged, just as clueless as you. You padded to the door, unlocking it and opening it just a crack. It was Jeonghan. Chaewon gasped, and you could hear her jump off of the counter and shuffle over to the doorway. He looked tired and a little annoyed standing there with his hands buried in his pockets. Today must’ve been one of his off days because he was dressed way more casually than he normally was.

“Hey baby. Hi Chaewon.” His voice sounded slightly deeper than you were used to hearing it. Chaewon waved tentatively from her position behind you. “Can I come in?” You took a step to the side, enough to let him come in, and he looked around the mostly empty space with an unreadable expression. “You never told me you moved out of your aunt’s place.”

“Right, yeah, sorry,” You shrugged. “You were just so busy, I didn’t want to bother you. It just slipped my mind.” Jeonghan just shook his head and leaned against the counter.

“It’s fine, I would’ve made time to stop by and help if I’d known. Would’ve been better than all the shit I’ve been doing.”

Chaewon stood awkwardly to the side, soon accompanied by a clueless Yeonjun who had just gotten over the initial shock of seeing Jeonghan inside your apartment. “Um…we should get going right now actually. We’ll come back another day, okay [Y/n]?” She smiled at you and waved to Jeonghan with a bit more confidence this time and yanked Yeonjun out of the apartment behind her by his wrist, shutting the door behind her with a kick of her foot.

The air suddenly felt a lot thicker.

“Do you think you could do me a favor?”

You hummed questioningly, watching Jeonghan’s head drop down and his gaze lower. You followed his eyes all the way down to the bulge in his pants. He frowned when you started laughing.

“This is funny to you?” You only laughed harder, one of your hands hovering over your mouth. “I don’t find anything funny about this.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you spoke through your laughs. “How did this even happen?”

He leans his head back and sighs. “I was thinking about you.” Your laughter immediately stops.

You’ve just come to two realizations.

1. Jeonghan admits he gets hard at the mere thought of you.

2. He came running here during one of his few days off because he wants your help dealing with it.

You felt a mix of things right now. Horny—obviously—but also proud, and kind of special. Weirdly enough, you liked the idea of Jeonghan running to you to find some sort of release. Or maybe you just really missed him in the wrong way.

“Come here.” Jeonghan beckons you closer, cupping your face in his hands and rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip. “You’re so pretty…”

“You too,” came your mumbled reply. You reached down to palm him through his sweatpants, eliciting a drawn-out groan from Jeonghan. His hips bucked into your hand, one of his hands wrapped firmly around your wrist similarly to the way he’d done in the car. You slowly sank to your knees, never once breaking eye contact with him.

The sight of you on your knees, looking up at him through your eyelashes and your bottom lip between your teeth, Jeonghan could’ve blown a fucking load right then and there.

“Did you miss me, Hannie?”

Jeonghan sucked in a sharp breath when you yanked down his pants and boxers at the same time, exposing his cock to the cool air of your apartment. “I always miss you, baby.”

You paused for a moment and wondered if he really meant that, but with his dick literally in your face you came to the conclusion that maybe it wasn’t the best time to mull things over. You peppered his tip with kisses and ran your hands up and down the base. You’d almost forgotten how much you love it when he moans for you.

“S-so good…you’re so good to me,” he rested his hands on the top of your head, breathing shakily when you finally closed your lips around him. Just when he thought he couldn’t become any more addicted to you, you went and proved him wrong.

You choked and dug your fingers into his thighs at an unexpected show of force from Jeonghan, pushing his cock deeper down your throat with a thrust of his hips. A loud gag shot out of your mouth when it hit the back of your throat, tears starting to well up inside of your eyes. He would’ve apologized if he didn’t think you didn’t like the sight of you like this. “You’re fucking perfect,” he said it without thinking, too caught up in the moment.

A single tear trailed down your cheek. You moaned around him and he copied the sound, the vibrations making him shiver with pleasure. Your jaw was starting to hurt, just a little, but Jeonghan seemed too far gone go notice anything but his own need to cum down your throat. You whined as loudly as you could, and that’s when he finally seemed to get the memo.

His grip became the slightest bit looser, letting you wrap your hands around whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You feel kind of gross when you notice that there’s spit dripping down your chin, but Jeonghan thought it was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. He literally couldn’t take his eyes off of you, big brown eyes now dark with arousal.

“Will you be good and swallow for me, pretty girl?” He asked, though the question seemed entirely unnecessary given that you would’ve done so anyway. Nevertheless, you hummed in agreement, which was all he needed before the warmth of his cum spilled into your mouth. His body went limp once you tore yourself away from him and he leaned back against the countertop.

“I’ve never actually done that before, by the way,” you mentioned all too casually. Jeonghan stared at you, completely dumbfounded, like you hadn’t just sucked the soul out of him. Your face felt hot when you noticed his face. “What?”

“It’s kind of hard for me to believe that after what you just did, but okay.” He shook his head. “Oh, by the way, the party my parents are having is on a Thursday. Totally random, I know, but at lease you won’t have to call off and miss work. You can still make it, right?”

He really remembered that?

“Yeah…I can still come.” Jeonghan smiled and kissed the tip of your nose. It made you giggle. Maybe he really was rubbing off on you after all.

“Perfect.” You expected that to be it and for him to leave you, but instead he picked up one of the boxes on the floor and began unpacking the contents inside. “Do you like it here?”

“Huh?” You pushed aside the shock you felt by him still being here to give a proper answer. “Oh, yeah. It’s nice. The people upstairs are kind of loud at night, though.”

Now he was giggling. You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Not that kind of loud, Jeonghan. You’re so gross.” He was smiling at you, totally unbothered.

“You love me.”

Oh, if only he knew.

Thursday has never come so fast. Time definitely had something against you, and this was the proof.

The venue for the party—some building as fancy as it was big located in the heart of the city—was hot with dim lights and hallways that were way too long. Dozens of people were lined up around the entrance with cameras and microphones. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them, even from the passengers seat of Jeonghan’s car, and he grumbled.

“The fucking press is still out here?”

It’s late in the evening. The sun is setting. They’ve been camping out here for days. These people are nothing if not devoted.

“You did say this was a publicity event,” you squeezed his hand. “We’ll just walk fast and smile.”

A smile broke onto his face. “I’ve only done that, like, three times.”

“I remember it being more than that, actually.”

He pouted at you, making you giggle. He was so cute it was almost unbelievable.

“Are you nervous?”

“Well, maybe just a little.” It wasn’t the party or the public that scared you, but the idea of meeting Jeonghan’s parents made your stomach churn. He eased your worries with a kiss, then another, and another.

“You’ll be fine. I promise.”

You wanted to believe him. You don’t know if you really do. There’s no fooling your brain, but your heart is much more easily swayed by his words. He holds your hand tightly as he leads you past the hundreds of cameras and people crying out your name followed by some of the strangest questions you’ve probably ever been asked—no, definitely ever been asked. You squint your eyes, allowing them to adjust to the low interior lighting, and you can see two people approaching. Jeonghan’s thumb rubs the back of your hand to soothe you.

“Ready?” He mumbles. You smile and nod.

“Not like I have a choice.”

“Jeonghan! [Y/n]! So happy you could make it.” His father greets you warmly, paired with a smile and a firm handshake. His mom is a bit less reserved with her affection, immediately pulling you into a hug.

“You look lovely, dear. Absolutely stunning.” You smile at the compliment. “It’s so good to finally meet you in person.”

“I feel the same. I’m still a little shaky.” You laughed and it seemed to ease the tension, given the way his parents laughed along with you. His father handed you a skinny glass of champagne which you eagerly accepted, sipping down the bubbly liquid. Jeonghan let go of your hand, now holding a glass of his own.

“I hope Jeonghan doesn’t give you too much trouble. We know he can be a bit of a handful at times.” The woman said, getting another laugh out of his father and you.

“Mom, please.”

“No, it’s okay. He’s really such a great guy. Our time together has been…” You sucked in a breath and glanced up at Jeonghan. He looked down at you, smirking. “…special.”

“Jeonghan? Oh, it really is him! Jeonghannie!”

You and Jeonghan both turned your heads to search for the source of the voice, both of your eyes landing on a girl with dark hair and plump lips waving at Jeonghan.

“Momo,” he smiled at her. “Good to see you. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Momo smiled back. “We would’ve been here earlier, but Sana couldn’t decide on what to wear and Mina wasn’t being any help.” She huffed at the memory and shook her head. “But we’re here now. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even see you.”

You smiled tightly, trying to remain polite. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine. It was the exact opposite of fucking fine. Not only was this Momo girl interrupting your moment with Jeonghan and his parents, but she was also acting as if you were invisible. And worst of all, Jeonghan seemed less bored with her sudden appearance and was paying more attention to her than you.

You paused. Were you getting jealous?

“Hey, you don’t mind if Jeonghan takes some pictures with me and my friends, right?” She put a hand on your arm and squeezed lightly, snapping you out of your daze.

“No, it’s okay.” Momo smiled again, and you couldn’t help but notice just how pretty she was. With your approval, Momo linked her arm with Jeonghan’s, leading him to the opposite end of the room where two other girls stood waiting, their faces lighting up at the sight of the male model she had managed to drag along with her.

“Come on [Y/n] dear, he’ll be back. Oh, there are some people we’d like you to meet. Have you met Kang Seulgi? She’s a very talented designer.” Jeonghan’s mom rambled on, guiding you towards an expectant looking crowd of people.

Shockingly (well, it was shocking to you), your attention is the one thing that the majority of the other guests seem to be after. Many of them gather around you and Jeonghan’s parents, hanging off every word you say and looking at you like you’re one of the most precious things they’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. The topic of the evening is, of course, your relationship with Jeonghan.

"It's..." You search for him in the somewhat dark expanse of space, but you couldn't find him anywhere. He probably ran off somewhere with Joshua, no doubt.

Jeonghan had fucked you over. He’d brought you here just to abandon you. He made you feel special just so you’d make him look good in front of his parents. You felt like some kind of broken toy, so easily thrown to the side once he no longer wanted to play with you.

"I don't know. It's a lot of things. I'm happy though, you know? He's good to me." You smiled, the lie stinging your throat and burning your tongue. There was only so much more of all this attention you could take.

“You’re so lovely, [Y/n].”

“Isn’t she just a dear?”

“She’s the sweetest! Don’t you just love her?”

And there it was; your breaking point. One of your hands flew over your mouth, keeping the pathetic sob from escaping. Concern flashed across the faces of the guests, and you apologized as best as you could as you pushed your way through the mass of bodies and out to the hallway. None of them followed you, probably still confused as to why you had even run away in the first place, but it didn’t matter. None of this mattered.

Jeonghan’s friends loved you. The media loved you. His parents loved you. All these guests whose names you didn’t even know loved you. Everyone loved you but Jeonghan, so in the end none of it even mattered. He had no problem discarding you when you were no longer of use to him, like you were nothing, because he didn’t love you.

You finally cried. The regret, the guilt, it consumed you. You slid down to the floor, your face covered by your hands, crying on the floor like a child.

“[Y/n]?”

You could recognize Jeonghan’s voice in a heartbeat. He stared down at you, worry written all over his pretty face, but you gave him no response.

“Why are you crying?”

He knelt down beside you, trying to get you to at least look at him. You wiped away the last of your tears and sighed.

“I think we need to end this, Jeonghan.”

“What?” He seemed genuinely shocked that you said that. “[Y/n], we’re more popular than ever. That wasn’t the deal.”

You picked yourself up off of the floor, suddenly overcome with anger. "Is that seriously all you care about? How popular you are? What about me?”

His silence was painful.

“God, of course. I don’t even know why I bothered asking. You only care about yourself.”

“That’s not true. I care about you, [Y/n]. You know that.” Jeonghan frowned.

Under different circumstances you might’ve believed him, let him sway you with his sweet words and sad little expression.

“Do you? It feels like you only care about me when you want your dick sucked or when you want someone to clap for you.”

The look on his face changed in an instant. Jeonghan’s patience was wearing thin, you could tell, but there was a part of him that was holding back.

“If that’s how you really feel, why didn’t you say anything? Why even agree to do this in the first place?”

The words came flying out before you could stop them. “Because I love you, Jeonghan! I’ve always loved you!”

A heavy silence enveloped the hallway. It was tense—suffocatingly so. You could hardly make out how his face changed once more in the low lighting that enveloped you.

“[Y/n]—”

“I’m not done!” You’re not sure when you started crying again, but you arely registered the wet droplets streaming down your cheeks. “I don’t even know why I’ve tried so hard to get you to notice the fact that I love you when it’s obvious the only person you love is yourself. You’re nothing but a selfish asshole. I hate you.”

Your vision was blurred with your tears, but you could just barely make out the dejection painted on his face. It didn’t suit him. You hoped that he would say something, anything, but Jeonghan did nothing but stand there. You couldn’t do anything but laugh pitifully.

“I’m going home. Have fun at your party.”

“Wait, [Y/n], please don’t go. Let’s talk about this.” He held onto your hand when you tried to walk away. You tried to get him to let go, but he wasn’t ready to let go.

“What else is there to say, Jeonghan? We’re over, now leave me alone. Why don’t you go ask Momo to be your fake girlfriend, I’m sure she’d be more than happy to.”

You snatched your hand out of his grasp, fooling yourself with the last bit of hope you had that maybe he would chase after you. He made you a promise, after all.

It’s a shame he couldn’t keep it.

You didn’t go into work on Friday. Or Saturday. Or Sunday. After you got home last night, you buried yourself beneath the covers of your bed, too exhausted to do anything other than lie there in the darkness until you fell asleep. When morning came, you couldn’t even muster up the strength to move, so you called Sakura and said that you were sick and wouldn’t be able to come in for the next few days.

Jeonghan had left you an unbelievable amount of texts and calls, none of which you bothered to respond to. Chaewon and Joshua also texted you to ask about the party and if you’d heard anything from Jeonghan; apparently no one had heard from him since the party. As if you’d know.

On Sunday, you’d managed to tear yourself away from your bed—for longer than a trip to the kitchen or the bathroom—and out onto the couch. A rerun episode of Jihyo’s talk show was playing on the TV, the one that featured you and Jeonghan. You watched with a heavy heart as the two of you walked hand in hand, smiling, waving to the studio audience.

How could you ever fall in love with him? He was just another self serving rich boy who used you for his own personal gain. It didn’t matter that he was charming or funny or cute or—

Fuck, even when you were mad at him you found it impossible to ignore the beating of your own heart when you remembered just how nice it felt to be with him, even if it was all just for show.

Someone was knocking. You sighed, not wanting to get up, but the knocking only grew louder and more urgent.

“Okay, I’m coming! Damn…” You shouted, lifting yourself from the couch and over to the door, frowning at the person standing on the other side.

Jeonghan’s state of being didn’t seem to be any better than yours. His eyes had bags under them, his hair was in desperate need of a brush, and he was still in his pajamas. Even so, he smiled weakly at the sight of you. “I was worried you wouldn’t answer. I’m happy to see you’re doing okay.”

You scoffed. “I’m not.” You missed the way his smile dropped at that. “What do you want?”

“I want to apologize to you.”

Shaking your head, you started to shut the door, almost closing it on Jeonghan’s arm in the process.

“Wait, please! I really mean it, just give me a few minutes and then I’ll be gone, I swear.”

There was no way you were in your right mind, because you actually let him in. He smiled and followed you to the couch, sitting at a distance to keep you from getting uncomfortable.

“I thought about what you said at the party. The stuff you said about me wasn’t wrong. I was being selfish. I did only care about my image. You had every right to be upset with me.”

“I’m still upset with you.”

“And that’s perfectly fine, but just hear me out,” His voice was frantic. “Those two weeks I didn’t talk to you were the worst two weeks of my life. I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you. I really missed you, [Y/n]. And the more I thought about you, the more I realized that I was falling in love. I’m so in love with you, [Y/n].”

You weren’t buying it. “You could’ve texted me. Or called. Or something.”

Jeonghan turned to face you, eyes flickering over your face. “I wanted to, and I should’ve, but…”

“…But what?”

His cheeks were growing pinker by the second.

“But what, Jeonghan?”

“But I didn’t want you to leave me. I didn’t tell you how I felt because I thought it would overwhelm you. If you start to feel real feelings in a fake relationship, what are you supposed to do?” He sounded so…sad.

When the reality of his words finally sunk in, clarity followed. Jeonghan was in love with you. Jeonghan was scared that you would want things to be over. Jeonghan was worried about how you would react to him.

You breathed out a laugh.

“You’re such a dummy, Jeonghan. Why would I ever leave you?”

His sadness evaporated, now replaced with relief and joy and love. He pulled you into a hug and sighed happily when you returned it.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. My heart literally fucking broke when you cried because of me and my shitty attitude.”

“Oh, but I love your shitty attitude. Just not when it’s making me cry.”

“Good. Pretty girls shouldn’t cry.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you. You felt giddy at the way his lips moved against yours, smiling into the kiss. He gently pushed you so you were lying on your back, breaking away to look down at you.

“My pretty girl…” He said again, voice sweeter than sugar, fingers trailing up your legs. They felt cold against your burning hot skin, and it made you shiver. “Gonna let me make you feel good like you deserve?”

“Yes, Hannie, please.”

Jeonghan groaned, pausing the movement of his fingers to bask in the sound of you begging for him. You had no idea what you did to him and it made his dick that much harder. “Good girl. I’ll take care of you.”

“Hurry up, your hands are cold,” You whined. His eyes flashed with mischief, pressing his fingers down into the flesh of your inner thigh, watching you shiver and moan.

“I don’t know, I think that you like it, am I right?”

“If you don’t hurry up and touch me, I’ll do it myself.” To prove your point, you slipped your shorts off and tossed them somewhere onto the floor. Jeonghan touched you before you could even think about sliding off your underwear, cupping your leaking cunt with his hand.

“The only one who gets to play with this pretty pussy is me, baby. Don’t ever forget it.” You moaned at how fast his demeanor seemed to change, nodding furiously as you tried to grind into his hand to relieve the ache he was making you feel.

Pouting and panting, you looked up at him. “Hannie, don’t be mean…”

He found it insane how he didn’t realize how whipped he was for you earlier. Like really, he was totally wrapped around your finger. This must’ve been how you felt for all those years.

“Whatever you want, baby,” He lifted your legs a little higher, situating himself so he was lying flat on his stomach, face only a few inches away from your cunt. He pushed your underwear to the side, gasping at the sight of how wet you were. “Shit, baby, you’re fucking dripping.”

“Just for you.”

He seemed pleased with that. “Better be.”

Jeonghan buried his face in between your legs, groaning when the taste of you hits his mouth. He’s making an even bigger mess of you, licking at you greedily and sloppily, drowning himself in the wetness between your thighs.

You’re moaning louder than you think you ever have in your life. Shaky fingers slide into his soft dark hair, gripping tightly. He doesn’t seem to mind though, already too caught up in you to register the little bit of pain. You grind into his face, staining the lower half of his face with your arousal.

“Hannie, fuck,” You manage to say despite your fucked out state. Jeonghan hums, and the sensation makes your thighs close around his head. If you could speak, you would apologize, but Jeonghan seems to grow impossibly more aroused by the act.

He slips two of his fingers inside of you, it’s easy given how wet you are and keep getting, while he occupies his tongue on your clit. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, any and all coherent thoughts having escaped you in that moment. The only thing you could focus on was Jeonghan, his lips, and his fingers.

You could feel yourself getting close, a familiar feeling blooming in your stomach. Jeonghan could feel it too with the way you were tightening around his fingers and arching your back to stay as close to him as you can. He circles your clit with his tongue before starting to suck on it, your legs shaking with the force of your orgasm.

“You taste so good,” Jeonghan says, licking his lips clean of every last drop of you. He presses one last long, lingering kiss to your pussy before gathering the strength to pull away and wipe his mouth clean.

“We could’ve kept going.” The look you gave him was so innocent and sweet, a contrast to the way your legs were still spread open with your juices staining your inner thighs. You almost convinced him. Almost.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He spoke slowly and softly, as if he was in no rush to give you more despite the painfully obvious tent in his pants.

“Well then hurry up and fuck me already.”

Jeonghan doesn’t want to keep you waiting, but he can’t help but tease you just a little bit more. He sheds his clothes with little urgency, and he smirks like the little cocky shit he is when he sees the way you’re looking at him, like you could just devour him here and now. It’s like you were seeing him naked for the first time all over again, astonished by the sight of him. He was just so pretty all over.

He slides the tip of his cock up and down your slit, teasing your entrance until you were squirming. “Hannie, please,” you whined, steadying your hands on his shoulders. Clearly he was just as desperate as you were, because he pushed into with a groan no more than a moment later.

“So tight, baby, shit. Are you trying to make me cum already?”

His strokes are slow and deep, and you can feel every single inch of him inside of you as he drags himself all the way out before slamming back inside. Whenever you clench around him, he falters and lets himself moan something unintelligible about how good you feel or how pretty you are.

“F-Faster, Hannie, I want—” Jeonghan cut you off with a sloppy kiss, swallowing each and every one of your noises.

He cooed at you and shook his head with fake disapproval. “When did you get so demanding?” Your words turned into whimpers when he increased both the pace and the force of his thrusts, rendering your ability to speak useless. “You know I’ve got you baby, I know what you need.”

“Stop talking like that.” Your nails dragged down his back, streaking his unblemished skin with thin red lines.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t? You gonna cum and make a mess of yourself all over my cock, huh baby?”

You whimpered again, leaving Jeonghan to assume that he was correct and giving him yet another ego boost. With one hand, he pushed your shirt up to reveal your braless chest, kissing and sucking at the supple skin of your tits.

There was no way you weren’t going to be getting a noise complaint. The sounds coming from Jeonghan’s hips snapping against yours paired with the steady stream of sounds coming from both you and Jeonghan were sure to have them making a fuss. Not that any of that mattered at the moment, well, not to either of you.

His hand snakes between your bodies, rubbing feverishly at your abused bundle of nerves, whispering so sweetly into your ear the words “cum for me” which is all you needed before doing just that. Jeonghan watches your face as you cum, and he thinks that you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do now, letting yourself fall apart underneath him like this.

“I love you so much,” He says in between his strained grunts of pleasure. “So fucking much, baby.” Even after you had already cum, Jeonghan’s hips never once stopped moving against yours.

“I love you too, Hannie, fuck.” The overstimulation was starting to hit you, and you whimpered because of it.

“I know, baby. I’m almost there.”

His tip is bruising your sweet spot with each of his thrusts, making you squeeze around him impossibly tighter, and the feeling makes him so dizzy, reminding him of the fact that he is truly and utterly yours. “Want me to cum inside you, pretty girl? Use your words and tell me.”

“Yes, yes, please, Hannie! Need your cum inside of me!” Your mouth and body are reacting on their own, saying and doing what they want as you feel yourself cum a second time. He doesn’t hold back anymore, the warm sensation of his cum being fucked deeper and deeper into you overtaking all of your senses, leaving you feeling fuzzy and lightheaded.

Jeonghan’s head rests on your chest, breathing in your scent and listening to the sound of your heart. He’s too lazy and too tired to pull out, but you don’t mind. “Can you be my girlfriend for real now?” Even as you work to catch your breath, he still manages to make you laugh.

“Hm, I don’t know, nobody was around to hear you say that, should we go find you an audience?” You tease, and Jeonghan whines loudly and shakes his head.

“In that case, yes. I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

[orcinus-veterinarius]

Can you elaborate the story of the ”Free Willy” orca (forgot his name). From my understanding the orca couldn’t survive in the wild and imprinted on hunans to the point that he seeked out human compaionship

Oh Keiko. His is a sad story. In 1979, he was tragically captured from his native Icelandic waters as a calf and, after bouncing around for several years, was sold to an amusement park in Mexico City that would eventually become Six Flags Mexico. It was here that he found fame as the star of Free Willy, a very sweet and very fictional story (a favorite of mine as a child!) that later spawned a trilogy, all while convincing the public that it’s easy to free a whale.

The tank you see in the movie is the same tank Keiko lived in during his time in Mexico. Intended to house dolphins, it was incredibly undersized, and the water was far too warm for an orca. Worst of all, he was isolated from others of his kind, with only the companionship of his human caregivers and a few bottlenose dolphins. The years of poor husbandry took their toll on poor Keiko, and he was lethargic and in ill health when his story because known throughout the world.

Although many parties were involved in what happened next, Warner Bros. studios (the filmmakers behind Free Willy) and the Humane Society of the United States (HSUS, my beloathed) were at the forefront. Once it became public knowledge that the real Willy was not, in fact, returned to the wild to live with his family and was still living in that too-tiny pool, many of Keiko’s fans (mainly children) began writing letters asking for their favorite cetacean movie star to be released.

Doesn’t that warm your heart? *she says sarcastically*

Some time—and an incident in which Michael Jackson (yes, that Michael Jackson) tried to purchase the whale for his personal collection—later, Keiko’s owners relented. It was decided by the newly formed Free Willy-Keiko Foundation, founded by Warner Bros. and cell phone mogul Craig McCaw (and still in operation to this day, unfortunately), that it was time to make fantasy a reality and set Keiko free. In 1996, Keiko was transferred to the Oregon Coast Aquarium for rehabilitation, where he would spend two years.

Under the quality husbandry and veterinary care Keiko received in Oregon, his health began to improve. In my opinion, this beautiful habitat, with trainers who loved and cared for him, should’ve been his forever home. One would think this was the plan all along, considering his trainers were still doing waterwork with him. That doesn’t exactly scream “this animal is a candidate for release!”

But the HSUS and Free Willy-Keiko Foundation had promised the children of the world that Keiko would return to the wild. Think of the children, people.

In 1998, Keiko tasted the crisp saltwater of the Icelandic seas for the first time in nearly two decades. For the next four or so years, Keiko lived in a sea pen, with the intentions of gradually habituating him back to his native environment. Over time, his trainers took him on longer and longer “walks” in the open ocean. One day in 2002, the walk didn’t end.

Keiko was free.

15 months later, he was dead.

The cause of death was pneumonia, the most common disease of cetaceans both in the wild and in human care. He was 27 years old (average life expectancy of a male orca is about 30 years).

Perhaps it would’ve been worth it, had Keiko spent those last 15 months with his long-lost family. But he didn’t. Though he was occasionally observed trailing pods of orcas, Keiko never rejoined a wild pod. Instead, he spent those 15 months traveling the coasts of Iceland and Norway seeking out the only family he knew. Humans.

Keiko would approach swimming children, allowing them to ride on his back as he had with his trainers over the years. He would follow boats in search of food and companionship, as his caregivers had interacted with him from boats during his ocean walks. These escapades became so frequent that the local government passed ordinances to stop its citizens from interacting with the whale. Although the HSUS claimed otherwise, Keiko was never again a truly wild whale. He was a whale dependent on humans, humans who ignored the advice of experts and tried to bring fiction to life. In 2009, the journal Marine Mammal Science did a retrospective review of Keiko’s rehabilitation and release. They determined it was a failure.

Despite this, Keiko remains a poster child for anti-zoo activists. The still-hypothetical Whale Sanctuary Project (my even more beloathed) uses Keiko as an example of why their experiment is a good idea, tugging at heartstrings of well-meaning animal lovers like HSUS did all those years ago.

In reality, Keiko was quite possibly the worst candidate imaginable for release. He was a fully mature male, with a history of poor health, who had spent decades in the care of humans with absolutely no contact with others of his kind since he was basically a toddler. The decision to release him was made entirely on emotion and carried out by movie executives and animal rights activists. For further insight into the political and financial woes of the release, I highly recommend Killing Keiko by Mark Simmons, one of Keiko’s caregivers throughout the rehabilitation process.

RIP Keiko. You were a beautiful, sweet man who inspired millions 🐳

[totaly-obsessed]

can you write for mary where readers ment to be away working but shows up at an important game and surprises her

Two-Week Notice

Mary Earps x reader request

-> Domestic fluff, reader can't attend Mary's game but surprises her.

-> Also for this request

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Meeting Mary had been one of the best moments in your life. Not because it was such a nice or cute moment, but because it let Mary into your life – bettering it by a hundred times.

The goalkeeper had just moved into a new Apartment building after joining Manchester United after a season at Wolfsburg, and she had not met anyone in her building. Life had come at the 26-year-old hard and fast.

And just as fast came the first fire alarm at her new place, and while she had been warned that the alarm often malfunctioned, she would not take any chances. After a quick walk through her apartment, checking that every window was closed and that she had grabbed her essentials, she was out the door into the flooding rain.

You however had lived in the building for a while and should have a routine by now when you were rudely ripped out of your well-deserved sleep. But you did in fact not have a routine, panicking every time.

This day was no different.

You were the last one out of the building, as usual – with no jacket. The rain was not something that you took notice of at first, too shocked that there actually was a fire in the building. It was a taller woman, with a very friendly smile who made you aware. “Aren’t you cold, love?”

As if a switch had been flipped, you started to shiver. “Forgot my jacket.” Mary was a goner the second she saw you shivering in the cold rain, the only thing in your hands, being a pillow, while she had her entire training kit.

The footballer didn’t hesitate to extend her jacket around you, effectively pulling you so close to her, that you could feel the heat radiating off of her. “You don’t mind, do ya?”

That was the beginning of something wonderful. Before you started dating, many evenings were spent together as ‘friends’ cooking and watching movies together. You listened to Mary moan about training and her teammates and she would sit and listen to you complain about your annoying co-workers who apparently could not function without you.

And while it was easy to fall in love with Mary, it was even easier to love her.

It took two months until you officially started dating each other. The first move was made by Mary who just sat you down one evening and asked you out on a date. Just like that, with a calm and collected mind, like she was playing one of the biggest games of her life.

A year later you moved into her apartment. It was the bigger one and your lease came to an end. If the two of you were being honest you could have moved in with each other the second you started dating – you could practically count the days you had spent in your own four walls on one hand.

One of Mary’s favorite parts of living together was the joined naps. Most of the time when she had come home from training you were on the couch napping, trying to stay awake until the goalkeeper came home, but you never quite managed – too tired from the early shift you had worked. After changing she would join you on the couch, setting an alarm so that you would not sleep away the day.

Waking you from your slumber was another one of the brunettes’ favorite moments. You were just so cute. Scrunched nose, red cheeks, and adorable whining that it was much too cold. Mary tended to stare at you, tempted to let you sleep longer, before she eventually just kissed you awake, making you giggle – a noise she loved oh so much.

Once it was later at night and time for bed came the playful fighting. Your favorite topic to fight about? The blanket and Mary’s tendency of stealing it, which was bad enough, but also denying it – blaming it on you.

“Mary, stop hogging the blanket!” She was curled up in it like a burrito, leaving you with just a corner of it. “Mary? Who’s Mary? My name is Baby, or Love, or literally anything else.” She had turned over to you lightning fast when you had called her by her government name, clearly offended by it.

“Okay, ‘literally anything else’ move over, I wanna be warm.” A shriek of speechlessness filled the room when a mischievous smile took over her face. Carefully she unwrapped the blanket, and just as you thought that you had gotten what you wanted and could finally head to bed – she pounced.

“Mary, no. No. No! Don’t you dare! Mary!” your incredibly strong girlfriend had jumped up from the bed, picking you up and holding you like a baby, making you unable to move. You thrashed in her arms as well as you could. “I’m mad, Mary! Put me down. Put me dooown!”

Whining took over the room as you struggled, eventually making Mary lose her balance but before she dropped you and herself, she just threw her body forward, taking you with her, toppling onto the bed.

Silence filled the room for a minute, both of you lying on the messy bed. “Are you still mad?” Instead of answering you pressed your ice-cold feet onto Mary`s very warm back. Swears and shrieks left her mouth as she took your feet in her hands and jokingly rolled you over, straddling your lap. “Let’s see where this night is going, ey cheeky?”

---

---

One of your favorite aspects of living together, aside from getting to hang out with the love of your life for the entire day, was a joined wardrobe. In the beginning, both of you had sections in the huge dresser and wardrobe, but over time your section was left untouched and Mary kept missing things.

“Baby, have you seen my blue Nike hoodie?” The goalkeeper wanted to wear it to a nice night in with the Manchester City girls, but could not find it anywhere. “No! Try the bathroom.” Of course, you had seen the hoodie. You were in fact wearing it, but you hoped, that Mary wouldn’t notice.

At first, she did not, searching the entire apartment before flopping down on the couch, burying her face in your chest – when she noticed that the blue of your hoodie was familiar. “Baby, that’s mineee.” She whined at you, trying to take it off you. “Love – please no. It’s so cold without it.”

For ten long minutes Mary tried to get her clothes back when she discovered that you were also wearing her joggers and socks – but it was useless. She caved once she saw your cute pout. With a loud huff, she went back to the bedroom, getting dressed in a green version of the same hoodie. “Baby, we’re matching – look!” You excitedly held out your arm, showing the material to a very unimpressed lioness. “I think I should join you for dinner.”

“Nu-uh! You don’t deserve it – thief!” But once Mary was opening the front door, she turned to you, asking why you were not ready. She clearly didn’t expect you to be actually dressed.

But alas you were and accompanied her to dinner. While she acted all mad about it, you knew that she loved it – she loved seeing you with her teammates who took such great care of you.

The joined closet was a mutually loved concept – you loved wearing Mary’s clothes and she loved seeing you in them.

---

---

As much as you loved being a WAG, and attended every match Mary played, sometimes it just didn’t work out. That was the case for the quarterfinal of the European Championships on home soil, here in England. The girls were playing against Spain, a feisty match, an incredibly important one at that.

And you? Stuck at work.

Why? Because the men in your company decided to punish you, ‘losing’ the form you had handed in as a request to get the day off. So there you were, stuck at work while Mary was preparing for one of the most important games of her life – without you.

Not only did you have to be at work which was already annoying but your colleagues were weaponizing their incompetence more than usual, making you do everything. Just 20 minutes after kick-off you have had enough. So you stood up, entered your boss's office, and handed in your two-week notice that you had filled out for a while now.

And with that, you just left. Ignoring your boss and colleagues who told you that you could not just leave.

Ten minutes later you entered the Falmer stadium, joining Mary’s parents in the family section who immediately ushered you off to the changing rooms. It was eerily silent as you sat down in Mary’s cubby, fidgeting with her second pair of gloves.

Just a few minutes later you could hear a bunch of cleats hitting the floor, a nervous chatter filling the hallway. Leah was the first to enter, eyes wide in surprise when she saw you. But the skipper did not say anything, as did the others who followed.

As usual, Mary was one of the last people, busy talking to Millie about what they needed to change. She nearly just sat down on you, when she finally noticed. “Baby! I thought you couldn’t come!” Kisses were spread all over your face, the brunette being teased by the other lionesses.

Quietly you explained how you had gotten there, your girlfriend happy that you finally quit, when Sarina and the coaching staff joined the girls in the room. Mary had pulled you on her lap, holding you as close to her as she could, trying to calm down and compose her thoughts.

With a good-luck kiss on her lips and gloves she left for the pitch again. Alessia and Ella followed, also wanting a good-luck kiss on their foreheads, and soon the entire squad of the lionesses had gotten a forehead kiss from you – Mary watching with curious eyes.

---

The second half was tense, especially after Esther scored in the 54th minute. But it was a freshly substituted Ella who got the equalizer in the 84th before Georgia shot the game-winning goal in the 96th. But there were still 20 minutes to go, and Mary did brilliantly.

2-1 to England and the crowd erupted in cheers once the final whistle sounded.

It was Millie and Lucy who had made their way over to you, lifting you over the barrier and onto the pitch – just to be tackled by Ella. “Your kiss helped! Ya must be my lucky charm now.” The excited brunette kissed your cheeks over, and over again, giggling in excitement.

“Get your own good-luck charm Tooney!” Mary had finally gotten to you, pulling you out of Ella’s hands and into a bruising kiss that left Ella squealing. “It's like watching my parents make out!” But you were met with whistles and claps on the back by other lionesses, who laughed at Ella’s reaction.

“I don’t think you have a choice to be at the next game, babe. Good luck charm of the whole team.” Your girlfriend’s smile was infectious, making you laugh as well, knowing damn well that you would be there at the semi-final even if hell froze over.

[darlingmbappe]

The Loneliest | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: Your fiancé missing your birthday is the icing on the cake to a horrible couple of months. Now, you’re left to pick up your broken pieces, ending the chapter in your life that includes Kylian Mbappé.

Warnings: Complete angst all the way through, Kylian being a bad fiancé, fighting, breaking an engagement, lots of crying, cussing, this one’s kind of long so beware. Spoiler: no happy ending. Let me know if I missed anything. — English is not my first language —

Mornings used to be your favorite.

You’d wake up way too early to the sound of Kylian’s alarm for your liking, but it didn’t even matter. The hour or so you got to spend with your fiancé before he left were sacred, it was special. They were filled with easy conversation, tired hugs and sleepy kisses on the shoulder, the occasional quickie, or at least a cheeky squeeze of your ass. It felt like very moment spent together was precious. You felt loved by Kylian so much it made your stomach turn with butterflies just thinking about him.

Now, it felt like those domestic moments were a distant memory. Sure, all couples gradually get less and less lovey-dovey the longer they’re together, but the change was drastic. It was like you barley knew him anymore.

You’ve attempted to start conversations with Kylian about this. Multiple times, in fact. Immediately, he’d get defensive, ending in arguments that kept getting worse and worse. It’s difficult to have to tip toe around your feelings in order to avoid a fight. He stopped making you feel special.

This morning, you woke up knowing it will be a hard day; all alone in your shared king sized bed.

Today is your birthday, and you don’t think Kylian knows this. After many weeks of deep reflection and thought, you know that today might be the last day of your three and a half-year long relationship with Kylian Mbappé — a man who stole your heart and still has it. Once treasured, now barely beating. The diamond sitting on your left ring finger had started feeling like a foreign object, like something your body wanted to reject. It’s lost it’s comfort, now you seemed to lug around old memories you clung onto for dear life.

Kylian didn’t come home last night, though you saw on his private Snapchat story that he was safe, sound, and plastered out of his mind at some club with friends you didn’t even know. He couldn’t find it in him to text you back after 9 o’clock, when that morning he said he would be home no later than 8:30. He found a simple ‘going out, don’t wait up for me’ to be sufficient communication for the night.

You called Kylian, instead it went straight to voicemail. Your texts to him weren’t going through, either. He didn’t have training this morning because the coaches had a conference in London, so you knew he had to be home soon.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way to the kitchen for a bowl of bland cereal and coffee for one.

“Happy birthday to me.” You mumbled, looking down at your sad birthday breakfast. Compared to the last few years where Kylian prepared you a delicious meal, hired a chef, or took you out to the fanciest café in Paris — this meal actually made you lose your appetite.

Across town, Kylian was waking up with a pounding sensation in his head and no recollection of the night before.

“What happened last night?” Kylian grumbled as he woke up to the bright sunlight streaming in from the open shutters. His neck had a kink in it from passing out on his friend Paolo’s Airbnb couch in the early hours of the morning, his voice sounded like he’d swallowed gravel. “Fuck.” He covered his face from the blinding rays and felt around for his phone.

He hasn’t gotten drunk that heavily in so long, but when two of his old friends came to Paris for a few weeks, he couldn’t resist giving into their pleads when they’d asked him to tag along for a fun night on the town.

“Bro, you were so drunk last night.” He heard his other friend Bernardo chuckle, his voice almost gone as well from the festivities of the previous night. Kylian sat up, seeing both men looking half dead and clinging onto coffee mugs like a child would cling onto its mothers leg.

The guys chuckled in the kitchen. He smelled eggs cooking but they just made him nauseous. “What time is it? Where’s my phone?”

“Oh…” Paolo snickered and pointed at the bowl full of rice in the center of his kitchen island. “Yeah, man… I don’t know if the rice did much for it. It’s fucked.”

Kylian shot up toward his cell, not even remembering putting it in the rice last night. He carefully picked it up, the entire screen was shattered.

“Putain…” He attempted to hold down the power button just in case, glancing over to the microwave to see the time. 12:36pm. “Merde!”

He had an important meeting with his PR team about potential sponsorships for next years season at 2 o’clock, and if he showed up sweating whiskey with an obvious hangover, the brand reps might think twice before giving him any deals.

He bid his old friends goodbye but not before promising to go out again soon. A short taxi ride later, he was able to make it back home just a little after 1 o’clock.

Kylian bursts through the front door, booking it toward the shower in your ensuite bathroom, running right past you on the bed without a glance or even a hello.

You’d been trying to decide all day if you were pissed at him or just super sad, but seeing him ignore you that way made you realize that it didn’t matter. He stopped making you happy, making you both pissed and sad — a dangerous combination.

You get up and follow him in there as he hopped around trying to take his skinny jeans off.

“I’m gonna be late.” He panted, sliding inside the shower.

You assumed if he knew he would’ve said something… happy birthday… I love you… I’m sorry…

Curious and resentful, you stand close to the shower door so he could hear you. “Where are you going? I thought we…” You blink tears back, sighing and trying to get control of your wavering voice, “… I thought we could do something tonight.”

This wasn’t even the plan, but you were trying to find anyway for him to redeem himself.

“No, (Y/N). I can’t today, okay?” He snapped. “I’m in a rush. Can you please just pick out a nice outfit for me, quickly.”

You shake your head in disbelief, wiping a stray tear that rolled down your face, sniffling once. Kylian hears this and pokes his head out. “Hey,” his barely softer, “Look, sorry but I’m in a huge rush. It’s been a shit morning.”

“Me too.” You mumble, disappointment laced in your words but Kylian didn’t seem to catch onto it.

“Also, my phone shattered at some point last night, so can you call Thérèse and have her drop me off a new one at the training center?”

You huffed, getting control of your emotions that were simmering into anger. One more chance, you thought as you were about to walk out of the bathroom, you turn. “Do you want to do something when you get home? Maybe even just dinner here, a movie?”

“Maybe.” He said back, turning off the shower. All you could do is roll your eyes and bite your tongue. You were trying to give him every opportunity to come back from this.

You didn’t want to end it, but you promised yourself that if he fucks up today, that was it. You can’t keep hoping he’ll become the person he was before. He won’t listen when you talk anymore or even meet you in the middle. You have too much respect for yourself to settle for someone who can’t appreciate you.

You dry laughed. “Maybe.” You mocked, another angry tear rolling down your face, storming back into the bedroom and getting under the covers, arms crossed.

You wanted to sob, but choked it down when Kylian stormed out of the bathroom, wet and holding his towel up around his waist. “Why are you so moody?” He didn’t even look at you, just shook his head and threw his hand down, exasperated when he realized you weren’t putting an outfit together for him. “I just asked you to help me out.” He tusks. “Are you just going to lay around all day, then?”

You knew this tone. The one where something else was bothering him except he expressed it by nitpicking at anything in front of him. Being with him for so long, you knew how to gently pry out the real reason why he was snappy. Right now, there was no way were you even attempting to help him out in any way.

“Looks like it, huh?” You gritted through your teeth. You could practically feel the eye roll he gave you even though neither of you would look at each other.

He muttered something you couldn’t hear as he walked into the closet, hurriedly throwing on some outfit. “I didn’t feel like fighting today, (Y/N).” He growled and threw on a white hat. “Today has been miserable so far.”

“Miserable for you?” You gaped, face getting angrily red.

“Oh, don’t start.” He spat, grabbing his keys and walking out of the room.

You jumped up and stomped out of the room behind him, seeing him almost at the bottom of the stairs. “Kylian.”

He groaned, continuing to run down the steps. “I don’t have time for a fucking fight right now!”

“Kylian!” You yelled from the railing just as he grabbed the door handle. With an exasperated turn around, he locked eyes with your teary ones. “When you get home… we need to talk.” You didn’t try and hide your sadness this time, knowing how the talk was going to end. The sentence squeaked out, like your forced it.

He paused, taking his hand off the door handle. “Fine.” He said this differently upon seeing your broken demeanor, shuffling in place. Kylian checked his watch, looking back up at you. You stared back, watching him hesitantly leave your shared home.

Kylian knew he’d been fucking up with you lately. Coming home late, forgetting to call or text back, paying less and less attention to you as the season progressed. He knew he was getting too comfortable and at some point stopped putting in any effort. The worst was that he’d been taking his frustrations out on you, shutting you out. He watched as you tried to smile through his snarky and quick comments, feeling bad immediately but he just didn’t know how to deal with that kind of guilty emotion.

Your engagement has been a long one. Nine months in and you guys hadn’t even set a date yet. Time kept slipping through the glass, he wondered when the last time you’d even brought up the wedding was — wondering when the last time he even thought about it directly after.

The whole way to work he watched out the window, lost in thought about how he needs to be better. So much so that his driver had to tell him that they’d arrived. He was actually early. With a big fake smile on his face, he did his best to set it all aside, turning on work-mode.

Meanwhile, you had a really nice cry. The kind where you just let it all out because you knew no one was around to hear or pity you. Once you pulled yourself together, you gathered your suitcases from the attic.

It was obvious you couldn’t take everything that was yours. You’d bought so many things for this place, for your shared home… so you focused on the things you were for sure taking with you. All your clothes, makeup, sentimental items, and the fruit bowl you found in a market in Spain were secured inside your bags. You stopped and cried so many times… over a pair of shoes that he bought for you or a picture that brought back sweet memories… all these momentos felt wasted.

Yesterday, you were certain that he would remember what today was. So certain that you convinced yourself you didn’t need to get a hotel. You wished you did, because doing it today felt so final, so depressing. And, upon looking at your empty side of the closet, vanity, side table, bathroom shelf… you had to pull yourself together and be strong. Remind yourself why you’ve resorted to this.

Back at the training grounds, Kylian snapped his last photo-op with the CEO of some athletic wear company, absolutely drained from having to pretend for hours. He had sent his assistant off for a new phone when he saw her, knowing you didn’t text her about him needing one.

He trudged over to Hakimi now that all of that was over, sitting down with a long huff, placing his head in his hands. He hadn’t talked to him all day, being occupied with offers and whatnot.

“Man, I’ve been texting you all day.” He patted his back once, turning to face him.

Kylian looked up at his friend, shaking his head. “It broke last night. Thérèse is out getting me a new one now.”

Hakimi sensed there was something bothering Kylian, but knew not to approach him too strongly. He nodded at his answer. “So, uh… I bet (Y/N)’s pissed, right?”

Kylian blew a raspberry. “Oh, yeah… so pissed…” He nodded with the most exhausted look on his face. “Wait, how’d you know that?”

“Well, I mean, Hiba would be pissed too.” Kylian raised an eyebrow, still confused on how he knew about your fight. “You know, if I had to work on her birthday like this.” He laughed at the thought. “I’d have a lot of groveling to do. Or, did you guys plan something on a different day?”

Kylian gazed up at Hakimi, eyes widening with the vague memory of todays date. “Wait.” He gulped, hands hovering over his head. “Is today the…” he flipped the calendar in his mind, praying that Achraf was mistaken about that. “Ah… merde! Putain! Shit!” Kylian smacked the table and bounced up out of the chair, heart beating a million miles a minute.

Hakimi stood too, watching Kylian pace with his hands cradling his head. “No… Kylian, you didn’t…”

He nods, panic settling in hardcore. “I yelled at her today. I asked her why she was being moody. I didn’t come home last night— ah baise moi, mec. je suis un putain d'idiot!” He cursed himself. Ah fuck me, man. I’m a goddamn idiot!

Thérèse speed walked over to the man in crisis, holding a brand new phone. “All your data’s transferred and everything!” She cheered. Kylian probably didn’t even thank her, going directly to his messages with you to text you that he’s so sorry and coming home right now. When he clicked on your icon, he saw all of the messages you sent him last night

You: Ky will u please come home — 9:25 pm

You: I know ur friends are in town and all but I seriously need u with me tonight — 10:48 pm

You: hello?? — 11:51 pm

You: are u okay? Do u need a ride? — 1:35 am

You: I’m getting worried. please just reply. I need to know ur okay Kylian — 1:40 am

You: nice Snapchat story. Good to know ur fucking fine. — 2:46 am

He ran a hand over his face, beginning to sweat with guilt. His eyes lowered on the screen, the small grey message by the keyboard truly making his stomach knot up even more.

(Y/N) stopped sharing their location with you.

His heart fell in his chest, churning… he felt like he was going to puke. Suddenly all of the conversations you tried to start with him about his behavior over the last six months came flooding back. The same conversations he moaned and groaned though, always deflecting until it turned into a fight. God, how badly he had been treating you… like you were a menace in his life — when really, without you, he wouldn’t be able to go on the same.

He began trying to call you and gathered his things, but his calls simply rang until it went to voicemail. “I-I have to go.” He stammered, almost tripping over his feet. Hakimi watched, shocked at the state of his best friend, knowing how he could get sometimes.

Kylian jumped in the town car as fast as his world-renowned legs could get him there, giving the driver instructions to get him home, and quick. The whole way he cussed at slow drivers, construction workers, red lights. He checked his new phone for the time; 10:37 pm and still fifteen minutes away from home.

God, please let her still be home.

He won’t know what to do with himself if you just left.

‘We need to talk’ rung over and over again in his head like a jinx. The way your voice cracked, the tears he saw you hold back. She’s so strong, he thought.

I raised my voice at her. I forgot her birthday and then treated her like she was the problem.

He pinched his leg to distract himself from crying. He has to be level headed, calm, logical, loving, and very apologetic— everything he hasn’t been for the last months. He knows he doesn’t deserve you, but can’t imagine what his life, his future will look like if he lets you slip through his fingers.

No girl has ever made him feel like this. Everything he looked for in a woman you embodied tenfold and he fucked it up. He has to fix this.

Kylian didn’t even let the car come to a full stop when he arrived, tripping over his own feet, realizing he left his coat in the back seat but really not caring at all. He just has to know you’re there. He looked toward the driveway, seeing your car still parked in its usual spot.

Thank the lord.

Fumbling with the keys, his shaking hands clicked the door open, seeing only the living room lamp on.

“Bébé?” He called. He saw your figure looking at him from the couch. “Oh, (Y/N)…” he breathed, walking over to get closer. You stoop up, meeting him halfway. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He heaved, breathless from his pounding heart.

The dull yellow light illuminating the side of your face showed him how puffy and red your eyes were, how downturned your usual smile was. He saw what he’d done to you, all the months you’ve had to walk on eggshells, the conversations that he’s turned on you, how he forgot your special day.

You still didnt say anything, keeping your arms crossed, looking him in the eye — the while begging yourself internally not to cave. His sweet eyes knew how to reel you in. You weren’t going to cave. You couldn’t.

“I forgot your birthday…” He whispered sadly, guilt drenched his tone, sending a cold depressing shiver down your spine.

Your eyes brimmed with tears again, but you bit your cheek and shook them away, having to be strong for yourself. “So, you finally remembered.” You sniffled.

“I’m so sorry, bèbè. Time just…” he stopped himself from making anymore excuses, “I’m just a fucking idiot. And I’m going to make it up to you. I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” He stammered, voice shaking from nerves.

“But, it’s not just about the birthday, Kylian. It’s been… it’s..–”

“–I know, bébé. I’ve been horrible to you. Truly horrible. You never deserved any of that.” He cautiously lifted his hand to yours, grabbing your fingers. All the words he was going to say suddenly didn’t feel good enough. No I’m sorry is going to feel sufficient.

You looked at your tangled hands, he played with your fingers anxiously, trying to catch your gaze, but it now stayed glued to the floor.

You took a deep breath and looked up at him with teary eyes — that of a wounded puppy. It broke him. “We need to talk.” Your words were laced in false strength, false confidence.

You didn’t know what the hell you were going to do once you leave him. Flying blind isn’t something you did very often, but you knew it’s what had to be done.

“Yes.” He nodded eagerly, trying to guide your hand toward the couch to sit. “Let’s talk. We can talk this all out, right?”

His hopeful tone made your heart break even more. The guiltiness that radiated off of him made it harder to do what you had to… his face fell when you let your hand slip back into your folded arms, turning away from him, sniffling.

“Kylian, I can’t… I can’t sit down with you and hold your hand and let you apologize to me. It’s not how this is gonna go.” Wiping your cheeks roughly, you turned to see his dropped face. “This talk… it’s going to be really hard. For both of us.”

He approached you, putting his hands on your forearms. “You’re scaring me, bèbè.”

Your lip quivered, not knowing how to tell him. You couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Kylian. I love you.”

“I love you too. I love you so much, (Y/N). I know we can work through this. I know it.” He pleaded, moving his face around to try and get you to look at him.

“No, Kylian. I love you, but…” You finally looked up, noticing he’d started crying as well. Ouch. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

He didn’t know what he was expecting. Sure, he was scared and sorry about what he did but the possibility of breaking up seemed impossible. Not like he was immune to repercussions, but you two just made sense. He loves you impossibly too much, but he’s forgotten to show you.

Kylian stood in shock, he felt his heartbeat in his teeth, his throat dry. “Don’t say that.” He whimpered. “Please, don’t say that.”

His hands traveled up to hold your face and he bent down to your level, needing you to look at him, to see how regretful he was, how much harder he will work at this. He touched his forehead to yours, wrestling with the temptation of falling down from anguish.

You shook your head between his palms, letting the tears fall freely, a small sob escaping. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs, attempting to hold you closer, squeaking out the smallest words; “Bèbè.” “No, no.” “Please.” “I’m so sorry.”

You grabbed his wrists, using all your strength to pull them from your face. Immediately, you turned around and grabbed a duffel bag he hadn’t noticed was sitting on the armchair. Your feet took you toward the exit.

“No.” His voice broken, his own face scrunched up and soaked with tears. “No, where are you going?”

It took everything in you not to comfort him, run into his arms, tell him it will be okay.

You pushed your instincts down and turning and shrugged instead, now feet away from the man you love, closing in on the front door. “I’m…” You felt a choking sob threatening to spill out of your mouth and had to look away, silently crying out with your hand covering you mouth. With a deep breath, you continued. “I’m leaving.”

“Well, when will you be back?” In just a few strides, he was back in front of you. He couldn’t help but hold your face again, wiping more tears with a gentle but pleading touch.

You gripped his wrists again, only this time, you weren’t strong enough to pull them away, instead feeling his warm skin one more time.

With a small shake of the head, you responded. “I’m not coming back, Kylian.”

“But… but this is your home. It’s our home.”

“I’m sorry, Kylian.” You finally ripped his hands from your face once more and adjusted the heavy strap on your shoulder. Turning around, your feet drag you to the front door. You reach into your back pocket and take out the house key that’s not longer attatched to your usual tassel keychain and set it down on the table.

He stood there and watched, now feeling helpless in this heart wrenching situation. It doesn’t seem like this is real, he has to be having a nightmare, just watching you leave his life and there’s nothing he can do about it — but it doesn’t stop him from trying, begging. “Amour, no. I can fix this, please just give me a chance to make this right.” He was desperate, once again approaching you.

Kylian sniffled, watching your every reaction, hoping for a glint of anything that would allow him to make it up to you. You looked down at your hands, then your left ring finger… everything in your body was holding you back from taking it off, but you mustered up every ounce of self control.

Kylian looked away as you slid the engagement ring off, hearing the light clink of it being set next to the keys. With his hands at his sides, back slouching, he looked back at your face, nodding in defeat.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated in a squeaky whisper.

“Me too.” He nods, looking down at your empty hand. He couldn’t but reach out, trapping your fingers delicately with his fingers, stepping closer.

His arm snakes around your waist, holding you, shaking with his suppressed cries. You allowed yourself to hug him back, to close the chapter, to feel his warm embrace again before you never would again.

The hug lasted for a while, swaying back and forth and crying into each others shoulders. He smelled like he always did, and you noted how hard it would be if you came across his familiar scent again. He also was getting high on your fumes, indulging in the coconut scented shampoo he had become addicted to. The touch of your hands clasping at his back made him cry harder, squeezing you tighter and lovingly.

You pulled back once your cries calmed, sniffling. He stayed close, lifting his eyes to look into yours. Before he knew how to stop himself, he closed in the space, landing his salty lips on yours, closing his eyes. You kissed him back, hating how much you’d miss him. The way his fingers dug into your hips made you lightheaded.

It’s too hard to stop, but you had to. Pulling away, you turned around quickly and left, sobbing all the way to your packed up car.

Kylian was glued in place. His heart had been put through a blender, his head throbbed, his chest was cold without you with him. He saw the flash of your headlights backing out and leaving the property reflect inside the dark and empty home.

He’s miserable, hollow. He’s angry at himself, maybe at you, even if he knows this was his own doing… the whirling in his brain wasn’t anywhere near as loud as the silence after you left — a deafening silence that followed him up to us bedroom, one he now only shared with his thoughts.

It killed him when he saw there was no longer a charger plugged next to your side of the bed, that your slippers were gone from their usual spot by the corner. None of your favorite books were displayed on the shelves, your skincare products left just a ring of residue on the sink. Stepping into the closet, he noticed it still smelled like you, but everything was gone. Everything but the shirts of his that you had stolen through the years, now neatly folded on top of one of his dressers. He wished you had taken them to remember him. He wished he could turn back time and do everything right.

Above all the sadness and the gaping hole is his heart was determination. He fucked up but he wasn’t about to do it again. You would not be the one that got away. It may be the last thing he ever does, but he’ll make it all up to you. He was prepared to go to the furthest lengths to hold you again. But, for now, he needed to wallow in self pity, feel everything that he needs to feel.

Not even on the chilliest Parisian night had his bed felt as cold as it did that day.

A/N: Okay I feel like I kinda dragged that out but angst! I’m contemplating a part 2 but I also kinda like leaving it at this… would y’all want another part? Also, the title is inspired by the song The Loneliest by Måneskin, listen to it after reading. Their new album is so fucking amazing. — Requests for Kylian Mbappé are open! —

[defbotboy]

Something Like Love

“Hiya there, pretty boy.”

Megumi scowled, “You’re late.”

You felt your lips spilt into a grin, he was pretty when he scowled too, you couldn’t help it.

“Aww. Did you miss me? Were you eagerly waiting for a chance meeting with your beloved?” you teased.

“It's not a chance meeting if we agreed to meet at a specific time only for you to waltz in half an hour late. That's just you being irresponsible, “ he shot back. But you didn’t miss that he didn’t say anything about the ‘beloved’ part. You also didn’t miss that under his tousled messy hair the tips of his ears were faintly blushed.

“Cute”, you thought to yourself.

“I’m sorry to have kept milord waiting but it’s not easy to gather information on the location of forbidden cursed tools.”

Three days ago, Megumi had called you asking for the information on them. You were surprised on two accounts. It was the first time he had sent you a message longer than four words. It was also a bit of a shock to you as Megumi, while not a stickler for rules exactly, was asking for information on a potentially dangerously illegal task to you.

Then again, the Jujustu Technical school kids had no one else to get such information from other than you. The higher ups won’t just let them get access to such information despite leaving Special Grade Cursed items in Stevenson screens. It was ridiculous to you.

“Do you have a fight today?”

Oh, this was new. Megumi never asks you questions about this part of your life. He despised that you took part in the illegal fighting rings for Jujustu sorcerers. It was the only way you could make a living though, you’d rather die than join the school.

“My my. You know what this is, Megumi? This is a personal question. This indicates that you have taken an interest in my personal life. What’s next? Are you going to ask me out on a date?”

“And if I do?’

Huh. It was your turn to turn flushed in the face. You’ve flirted so excessively with your crush as if to make up for his taciturn nature. Never in a billion years did you think you’d end up here.

“What?” you asked, lamely.

A smile tugged at the corners of Megumi’s lips, Not so chatty now are you, he thought.

“A date. It's where people romantically interested in each other go some place together and eat and stuff. Now that I've said food is involved you’re surely not going to say no arent you?”

Your appetite was undeniably legendary. And you were living on cup noodles, so any chance you got with free food was a battle to witness as you demolished plate after plate. But this wasn’t just any idiot asking you out.

It was Megumi. Megumi Fushiguro, the boy you’ve been (not so secretly) pining after ever since he beat your ass in a fight at the underground rings. He, along with Yuuji and Nobara had stumbled on the rings while investigating a case. The boss had promised them some information on a cursed spirit if they made the day’s show legendary. That’s how you had ended up pitted against Megumi. It was a long battle. You were the ring’s top contender until he came in. The fight was won by a hair breadth. You could both barely stand up after it.

And then covered in blood and panting like his life’s last breath was being taken each time, Megumi had never looked as beautiful. You couldn’t stop thinking about him.

So you wormed your way into being their informant. You flirted every chance you got. When Megumi offered up his number for, “Easier information exchange, I don’t want to hang around your stupid fighting rings every time I want something from you.”

But he had. Every rare holiday that the school offered him, he spent hanging around the rings watching you fight. The days you caught him hanging around he pretended to have been waiting to see you for information. Then after completing whatever task he had thought up at the last minute together, you both would have dinner.

He adored seeing you eat. You ate with such relish of the food. Your mouth stuffed and your eyes eagerly scanning for what you should take a bite of next. It was a secondary sight to seeing you in battle though.

Each kick, and punch delivered with absolute surety. Your cursed technique might have been dull, but you wasted no amount of cursed energy. Every move was calculated to utter precision and you moved with the grace of a dancer, and attacked with the strength of a seasoned warrior.

Megumi knew he sounded cocky as he asked you out, but his heart was hammering inside his ribs.

“So?” He asked. “Do you want to go on a date with me, Y/N?”

“Why?” you asked, all of a sudden not too sure about anything. Your insecurities coming at you in a rush before your insides which were screaming at you to shut up and just say yes.

But Megumi was prepared. He knew you from months on watching you move. You might fight fiercely and flirt shamelessly but he’s also seen you after fights lost, drowning in self-doubt and he knows how hard you find it to trust those on your side. It's not easy being raised to destroy and finding yourself in a moment like this that promises something more. Something like love.

So, he had known when he came today that you would ask him this question.

Megumi stepped froward and extended his hand. He softly brushed away the stray hair that fell on your face. From up this close, he could smell the familiar scent of soap on you, your sweet breaths coming out slow and heavy from how close you both were. He tipped your head towards his face.

Your heart was in your throat now. Ready to jump. He was so close. You could see his long. wispy eyelashes touching his cheeks in full detail. He was so fucking pretty.

“Why?” he repeated.

You nodded slowly, “Why?” you repeated.

“Why, because I like you. Because if you flirt with me once more and I’m not able to do anything about it then my heart might just explode.”

You felt your lips perk up into a smile. “What do you want to do about it?”

Unable to hide his smile anymore, he let it break out in its full glory. It was blinding to see. How could anyone smile like that, you wondered.

“This,” he said in response to your final teasing. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, he tasted like peppermints and the promise of something more. Something like love.

[yjhariani]

Part 2 of Lighter Warnings: Profanity, angst, violence, blood.

A/N: Apparently people are upset that I kill them? Hopefully this mend your hearts in one way or another.

“This is a rescue mission,” Laswell started. “Top secret. The only people who will know and will be involved in this mission are the people in this room and a group of allies.”

Soap was looking around. Even the captain looked like he knew only as much as he did. In fact, he looked rather surprised.

“Who are we rescuing?” Price asked.

“One of my agents,” Laswell answered.

“Since when do we do this kind of mission?” Ghost questioned. “Rescuing a CIA agent of anyone.”

“This one isn’t actually working for the CIA. Just for me. Besides,” Laswell sighed before finally opening the file case, “this is the one person that you would want to rescue.”

The photo was the first thing everyone saw and time seemed to slow down. The four were looking—staring at the photo. The face that most of them had not seen in almost a year. Except for Ghost who saw another photo of the same face last night because he could not sleep.

The lighter in Ghost’s pocket felt like it weighed a ton now. It felt as if it was lit up and he tried his best not to touch it. He could not have mistaken that face. He knew exactly who the person was.

Gaz had to blink a few times to ensure himself. Soap even had to rub his eyes. Price, picking up the photo, felt a tinge of nausea at the back of his throat.

“This? This person is your agent?” Price asked.

“Yes,” Laswell answered stoically. “As of this moment, this person is taken by—”

“Can we talk about this for a moment?!” Soap shrieked. “That person is dead. We were there. Ghost was holding this person’s dead body! We were… we were there. We saw it. We saw the body at the funeral, too.”

Price slid the photo to Ghost. It was a photo he had not seen before, it looked recently taken.

You. Still as gorgeous as the last time Ghost saw you. Most of all, you looked alive. You were smiling in this photo. It was not genuine and Ghost knew it.

“That’s why I took care of the funeral and, guess what? The most crucial information that we got was received when our dead friend was posing as a dead body,” Laswell nodded. “We can talk about this after we rescue—”

“You couldn’t have told us?” Price protested. “You don’t trust us?”

“Telling you would compromise the mission. Now, can we all focus here? The longer we stay here, the higher the chance that we’ll be failing this rescue mission. We still need to fly to where they’re holding our friend prisoner,” Laswell said, now sounding very much more serious. “If it’s an apology you want, fine. I’ll make it brief. I’m sorry. Would you all focus on the matter at hand now?”

Price sighed and waved a hand, telling Laswell to continue. Soap and Gaz nodded. That left everyone looking at Ghost who was still looking at the photo.

“Simon, you’re with us?” Laswell asked.

Ghost finally looked up.

Did he care that Laswell hid this from you? Did he care how you got into whatever this mess Laswell asked them to fix? Did he care that the one time he found out that you were alive was because Laswell had a job and the job was to rescue you? No.

Ghost cared that you were alive and that he would get to you soon.

“Just take me there and give me a gun,” Ghost said.

Without sparing any seconds left, Laswell immediately briefed the squad on the place where an arms dealer was keeping you hostage. Right after that, everyone started moving, ready to rescue one person.

Getting in was easy. It was a mansion in Mexico and there no one inside the building. However, they were not actually taking things easy. They knew what a trap looked like. Getting out might be difficult.

At least, Ghost thought, by then they would have you and he knew what you could do. You would make things way easier. Way, way easier. Especially for Ghost.

To be honest, Ghost had imagined a lot of different scenarios of that last mission. How things would end with you alive, how he would gladly take your place, how he wished—sometimes—for Soap to be the one who died. 

Not once that Ghost thought of this possibility. Yes, he had thought that the enemy might have taken you prisoner, but that was rather impossible seeing that he saw your dead body at your own funeral. He knew it was you. There was no way that anyone could look so much like you. Besides, he would know if it was not you.

Just like he knew that the further in they walked into the mansion, the closer they were to you. Ghost felt something in his chest. Was it excitement? Was it relief? Was it anger? Who knew, he was never good at those things.

It felt like a sudden when Ghost went down a manhole, saw the room with bars as a door from where he stood, and saw a bed inside that room and you were lying on it, nose pointed to the ceiling.

Your name fell out of Ghost’s lips. He thought it was his mind, at most a whisper. However, you turned your face towards his direction, confused at first. Then, you got off the bed and rushed to the bars.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” you asked, sounding way more angry than relieved.

“Rescuing you,” Laswell said as she passed Ghost and skipped towards the room you were in.

“It’s a trap,” you stated.

“Holy fucking Jesus, it really is you,” Soap said, catching up behind Laswell.

“What do you mean it’s a trap?” Price asked, joining Soap and Laswell who were already trying to unlock the bar that separated them from you.

“They put me here so they could escape you,” you said to Laswell. “They’re gonna burn this place down.”

“That’s why we need to hurry,” Laswell nodded. “Ghost, bolt cutter.”

In the meantime, Ghost was frozen on his spot. All he could see was you, your hands holding the bars, your messed up face, the way you stood, the look you gave everyone but him. 

Gaz carefully put his hand on Ghost’s shoulder. Ghost did not look at the sergeant. He could not. All he could look at was you and you and you. Alive.

“LT, I got your back,” Gaz quietly said. “They need that bolt cutter you’re holding.”

“Ghost, quickly,” Price encouraged.

That next second, you finally looked at Ghost. He saw your fists clenching the bars even tighter. There was a thin smile on your face and that was all it took for Ghost to walk himself towards the door and cut the chain that locked you up.

The chain was cut, pried away, and the bar was opened. The next thing Simon knew was that he felt himself getting pushed back by a splatter of a human being wrapping their whole body tight around him.

Unfortunately, it only lasted a few seconds. It was too soon. Way too soon. You took one of the guns holstered on Ghost’s belt in the process.

“Let’s go,” you said.

“Just him?” Soap questioned.

“Good to see you, Soap,” you sighed, cocking the gun in your hand. “You, too, Captain. Hey, Gaz.”

Gaz nodded at you once.

Looking back at Simon, you found him still looking at you. You had no idea if he blinked at all or not.

“Been a while, big guy, you’re ready for this?” you asked, a flat smile on your face.

“How are you in a good mood?” was the first thing he said to you.

“Of course I’m in a good mood, I get to be in your lives again,” you said. “That, of course, if we can make it out of this place alive.”

There was a few seconds passing with everyone just watching you and Ghost looking at one another. Those seconds felt like forever for Ghost. They were beating you. They left bruises and cuts, but he knew they could never destroy you like that.

There was nothing more that Ghost wanted other than to smother you with his face and to crush your ribs with his arms. Affectionately, of course, but he would never say that out loud.

If you had time to spare, you would have already slipped his mask off and kissed him on the lips.

“It’s like we’re not even here,” Soap said.

“It’s like someone’s acting as if they had not been dead the whole fucking year,” Price scoffed.

“I’m sorry. I trust the boss lady here and I’m just doing what she told me,” you said. “Now, where is the exit?”

Not waiting for anything else to happen, Laswell led the way. Usually, you would be further at the back in the marching order, but for some reason, no one was moving until you started tailing Laswell. Ghost was right behind you because he was worried that you would combust if he let you out of his sight.

It was all easy. Getting back through one door and another. It was all too easy.

You did say it was a trap. That they would burn this place down. Ghost could not care less. He just cared that you were alive and were present, not more than a few feet away from him.

Nothing about you changed. Not that Ghost noticed. Well, you were more cautious somehow, but that was understandable seeing your reputation.

Upon entering one of the last rooms you had to pass before the lot of you were finally out of the building, you started smelling it. Gasoline.

Getting further into the big room, you finally saw the tanks. They were grouped in a corner. The floor and all the present furniture were wet with what was in them.

Everyone was tense all of a sudden. These were not here before. However, none of you stopped. Not until you felt a bullet flew across the opposite side of the hallway the group was sticking towards. It was headed towards the tank.

The shooter was a few feet away from the front door. Instead of pointing his gun at the group, he pointed his gun at the grouped tanks of gasoline.

It happened fast. You pushed yourself aside, feeling yourself rolling on the floor towards the tanks, and being pushed on your chest by a force of some sort. At the same time, Laswell and Ghost fired their guns at the person at the front door. In the very last microsecond, Ghost meant to pull you back upon sensing your leave, but he missed by mere centimetres.

Your body fell to the floor before the shooter’s body. By the time that stranger’s body touched the ground, Ghost was already beside you.

Red was blooming from your chest, your eyes wide, almost breathless. Ghost saw the spreading of red on your clothes and immediately pressed his hands on it.

“You took a fucking bullet for a bunch of tins?!” Ghost questioned. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

“Calm down, boo. At least we’re not cooked,” you said.

Ghost looked at your face and your chest back to back for what seemed to be a million times. He could see the blood seeping through his gloves.

Earlier, it was like he entered an ancient cave and instead of gold, he found found a crypt with you inside it alive, along with his heart. If that was the case, this moment would be that part where he realised that the treasure he found was cursed.

This looked bad. This looked really bad. You felt it, too.

Ghost traced his steps in a rapid second. He realised that he could have given you his bulletproof vest and he did not. He was too busy getting awed by your presence.

Last time, after long nights of pondering, he knew that there was nothing he could have done that would change your ‘death’. This time… well, this time, he would regret a lot.

“Simon,” your hand searched for his face, making him look you in the eyes. “It might be for real this time.”

“Not again,” he breathed. “Not again. I won’t fucking take it.”

By then, the rest were already around you.

“Jesus,” Soap exhaled.

“We need to move,” Price stated.

“Are you—”

“We’re moving and we’ll stop you from fucking dying!” Price yelled, cutting you off.

Everyone turned towards the captain, speechless. He was angry. No one had seen him this angry.

For a very brief moment, Ghost looked at Price and understood why he was so angry. Ghost had to deal with your death. Gaz had to deal with your death. Soap had to deal with your death. However, Price had to deal with your death whilst dealing with Gost, Gaz, and Soap dealing with your death.

If anyone deserved a million apologies for this mission Laswell gave you, it would be Price.

So, Ghost sucked it up. He did all he could to maintain pressure on your chest as he picked you up. Soap immediately helped him carry you as the group moved to the vehicle they left when they got here.

Everything moved so fast. Ghost did not pay attention and only kept his hands on you, looking at you. In the middle of this rough, sped up ride, he saw you smiling.

It was all slipping away, you could feel it. It was cruel that Ghost had to experience it once more.

“What?” Ghost asked.

“You know, my loyalty always lies with you, right?” you replied.

Ghost knew what you were doing.

“Shut up,” Ghost said.

“Always,” you repeated, putting your hand on his masked face. “Nothing I’m more loyal to.”

Even then, Ghost could not help but leaned himself against your touch.

“Except for this job, yeah?” Ghost asked.

You only looked at him.

“You’re still up for our plan if I make it out of this?” you asked.

“You will,” was all Ghost said.

“In case I don’t—”

“You better shut your mouth and keep it in,” Price chimed in. “You’re not dying on my watch, not again.”

In spite of that, a smile formed on your face.

I love you, you mouthed with whatever consciousness you had left.

“Fuck off,” Ghost quietly said.

The next few minutes, you only looked at him looking at you. Before there was nothing.

“I’m so… very sorry this happens again,” Soap said to Ghost.

The tension in the air was real. Hearts were broken. However, nothing would ever feel as hurtful as Soap putting the plus four card onto the table and saying.

You laughed.

“Last place again, boo,” you said. “You’re in the bottom of a bucket full of shit, man.”

“Fuck off,” Ghost scoffed as he gathered all the cards.

Price let out a light cackle as he leaned back on his chair.

“Nice place you both got here. Must be like a holiday every day of the year,” Price said.

By place he meant the house you and Ghost just moved in. It was not much, really, but it was what you and Ghost had envisioned all those years ago.

“A bit lonely with just the two of you in it, don’t you think?” Laswell asked.

“Oh, we’re… planning to get some pets,” you said.

“You mean a baby?” Gaz asked.

Ghost turned towards him, eyes sharp, piercing into the sergeant’s soul.

“Careful, Gaz, next time you’d be the one who’s dead and we won’t be as traumatised as when this one,” Soap gestured at you, “died. Twice almost.”

“Aw, come on, let’s not talk about that again. Just shuffle the deck and pass it around,” you said.

“Of course you don’t wanna talk about it, you’re the one who doesn’t have to suffer,” Ghost said.

“You better take that back, Simon, because you have no idea,” Laswell sighed. “I’m the one who has to deal with the whining.”

“We all suffered,” Price nodded, looking at Laswell. “But you started it.”

Laswell only looked at the captain for a moment, but she exhaled eventually.

“Fair,” Laswell said. “I could’ve told you, but I didn’t and I’m sorry.”

A pause.

“I still can’t believe you took a bullet for a bunch of tin cans,” Soap said.

Half of the table laughed. Price then took out a cigar.

“Lighter, anyone?” Price asked.

“It’s getting exhausting that you smoke a lot, but rarely keep a lighter on yourself, captain,” you said. “Here, let me light it up for you.”

Except for you and Laswell, the others took a moment of silence when you pulled out your lighter. Their gazes followed the lighter. A flash of a heartbreaking memory was painted in their eyes, unnoticed except for one another.

It was returned to you. Ghost could not live with it anymore. Afterall, he had you again. All the things that used to or still belonged to you would be nothing compared to yourself.

@teamowolverine @lilpothoscuttings

[imaginespazzi]

Here's To Eternity

Four times Paige brings up marriage and the one time Azzi finally says yes.

(In which an angst writer attempts to write fluff and it takes her far longer than it should have)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: mainly Fluff with a little bit of Angst

Words: 8K (I swear it was meant to be below 5K when I planned it)

TW: Implied sexual content, alcohol, swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3. Gonna do this at the beginning instead of the end today. This took years off my life and I still don't fully love it but I'm tired of thinking about it so hopefully y'all still like it. Really quickly, I've never been to Minnesota or the state fair so if you have, pretend you do not see the likely factual inaccuracies. Also feel free to let me know what you don't like because as I've said, I don't really write fluff well so by all means call me out. And finally, I edited this I swear but I'm sure there are still mistakes, so let me know about those too. Anyways, I hope this is a good pre-game read and let's get another W!

i don’t know what love is (i’d learn for you) 

The first time Paige says it, they’re at the Minnesota State Fair. It’s all the way back when they’re just two young girls learning each other, carefree and completely unaware that this will become a tradition. They’ve barely known each other but being with Azzi already feels easy, natural, like home. And she doesn’t really know how she knows it, it’s just a feeling really, but Paige is convinced that Azzi’s meant to be in her life forever. 

They’ve been at the fair almost all day, with members of both of their families joining them here and there. Paige and Azzi had been competing at various arcade games all day, keeping a tally of who won which arcade game. They’d even turned going on rides into a competition of “who could hold in their screams the longest”. Their bickering, while endearing, had earned them more than a few fond eye rolls as their families eventually got bored of being third wheels and went on to find something more engaging. 

They’d intentionally left the pop-a-shot, a basketball arcade game, til the very end, knowing it would be the ideal tie-breaker. And as the day comes to an end, they are in fact very much tied although Paige will tell you, that she didn’t actually scream on the Skyscraper; it had merely been a quiet whimper that Azzi was exaggerating the volume of. And Azzi will tell you that she deserved a re-do on the ring toss because it wasn’t her fault that the wind had decided to pick up on that very moment. Ultimately both of their arguments had fallen on deaf ears when they had appealed their cases to some very exasperated family members. 

“Get ready to lose to the better shooter,” Paige gloats, rubbing her hands together in preparation to shoot. She’d lost two rounds of rock paper scissors to Azzi’s one, meaning she’d missed the chance to go second like she would have preferred but that hadn’t done much to deter her confidence. 

“We’ll see,” Azzi scoffs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms as she stands back a little bit to give Paige the space she needs. 

Paige smirks at her friend as she shoots the ball, definitely showing off a little bit. The ball arcs in the air before swishing into the basket, all net and no rim. The blonde’s grin only widens as she repeats the motion, again and again and again. She gets eight of them in perfectly, the ninth hits the backboard but rolls in and then-

“You missed,” Azzi yells the minute the last ball is out of Paige’s hands and they both watch, one in excitement, the other in irritation, as the ball falls miserably far away from the net. 

“That’s not fair,” Paige turns around immediately, “you distracted me. That doesn’t even count.”

“Nuh uh, we didn’t set a no distracting rule and I only said something after you released it. I already knew you were gonna miss,” Azzi counters gleefully. 

“Bruh, how could you have possibly known that?”

“Because my basketball IQ is way beyond yours,” it’s Azzi’s turn to smirk as she bumps Paige in the hip, switching spots so she can take her turn. 

“You’re still gonna lose. I made nine, you’re barely gonna make,” Paige pretends to think, “hmm maybe seven”

Azzi doesn’t respond, choosing instead to reply by immediately making her first basket. Her arc is perfect as always, the same shot Paige had been awed by when they’d been at camp for USA basketball. She makes the next and the next and the one after that until she’s at her 10th shot, ready to go a perfect 10 for 10 and beat Paige. Maybe it’s the competitiveness or maybe Paige has lost her goddamn mind, but she barely registers the next words that come out of her mouth. 

“If you make the last shot, you have to marry me,” and it’s supposed to be a threat, a way to stop Azzi from making the last bucket and winning their silly little competition but it comes out giddy and breathless. 

“What?” Azzi asks, eyes wide as she turns around to face Paige and well, she’s said them now, Paige might as well own them. 

“You heard me,” Paige says, cocking her head, the arrogance in her voice a complete contrast to the rapid beating of her heart, “you make that shot, and we’re engaged. Or you don’t make it and you lose.”

Azzi’s eyes narrow, confusion melting away to a familiar fierceness.  The thing is, she knows she could miss it if she wanted to but the thought of losing is somehow worse than being engaged at fourteen. She tries not to dwell on why that idea doesn’t seriously frighten her, telling herself it’s because there’s no way Paige will ever hold her to that. Taking a deep breath, Azzi lifts up her hands and shoots the ball. 

Here’s the thing, Paige likes winning. She enjoys the effort that goes into getting a win and the satisfaction that follows after. But as the ball leaves Azzi’s hand, that same perfect arc, she thinks, maybe it would be okay if Azzi made this basket today. She thinks maybe it would be okay if she lost. Both girls wait with bated breath, as the ball hits the backboard and circles the rim. For a brief second, it seems like it might slide off the edge but it doesn’t. It falls into the net with a swish and Azzi wins. 

The brunette lets out a squeal of happiness as the arcade game lights up with “WINNER”, doing a happy dance and flipping her hair. And Paige is so mesmerized by Azzi’s infectious happiness, the fact that she’s just lost ceases to mean anything. She doesn’t know what this feeling is, isn’t quite ready to understand it, but she knows it’s slowly creeping up her veins and consuming every part of her. 

“What prize would you like honey,” the middle-aged woman running the booth asks, pointing to the assortment of gifts sitting in a booth next to the game. Azzi pulls a still-stunned Paige with her to get a closer look at the prizes, eyes roaming over all the fun things until they finally settle on one of them. 

“I’ll take that packet of rings,” she gives Paige a devilish smirk, "I think I just got engaged.”

Paige gapes at Azzi while the woman fetches the packet of rings that Azzi had chosen. As far as fake jewelry goes, the rings are kind of atrocious. Huge colorful stones are placed haphazardly on a silver ring that looks like it might rust the next seconds. Azzi picks out a pink one and hands it to Paige, before holding out her hand. Still slightly dazed by everything, Paige does as she’s gestured to and slips the ring onto Azzi’s ring finger. And she’s sure she must be going insane because the ugly ring looks quite pretty on Azzi’s slender fingers. 

“You better get me a real one eventually,” Azzi says and she’s joking, Paige knows that but she can’t help the part of her that takes it at face value, the part of her that subconsciously promises Azzi to get her a real one eventually. She’s only fifteen and she’s sure she doesn’t know what love is but standing here in the cool Minnesota summer breeze, getting fake engaged to a girl she feels like she’s known her whole life, Paige thinks, maybe she’d like to learn. 

2. crossing boundaries (taking leaps of faith)

The second time Paige says it, they’ve crossed a line in their friendship and she kind of wants to cross a couple more. By this point, Paige is pretty sure she’s at least a little in love with her best friend. It had been okay when she’d first got to UConn, the distance between them allowing Paige to ignore her feelings that had become unbearably intense over the covid year she’d spent with the Fudds. And then the thing she’d worked her ass off to make happen had happened and Azzi had come to UConn. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy to have Azzi here. With her being injured for most of her sophomore season, there’s no one else Paige would have rather had by her side through it all. It was the playing platonic that drove her a little insane. Because somewhere between the arguing over nothing and the talking about everything, Azzi had stopped being her best friend and had become something more. 

It all comes to a head during a mid-April night at Ted’s. They’re partially still in mourning for their national championship loss and so it’s not really a surprise that the team is perhaps a little freer with the alcohol than they normally are. It’s definitely the alcohol that has Paige seething in jealousy at Azzi nonchalantly flirting with some random girl who had had the nerve to buy the brunette a drink. And it’s definitely the alcohol that makes her march over angrily and squeeze herself between the two girls. But it might be a little much to blame the half a glass of spiked shirley Paige had had for the way she wraps her arms around Azzi’s waist, leaning into the younger girl’s personal space in a way that is decidedly not platonic.

“Hi love,” she whispers, blinking her eyes up at a rather confused Azzi, who despite said confusion, doesn’t push her away. Instead, Azzi’s arms circle around Paige’s neck. It’s muscle memory really. But now they’re far closer than appropriate for two best friends and Paige swears she can make out every detail on Azzi’s face. Her eyes fixate on Azzi’s throat as the darker-skinned girl swallows, a sign of nervous anticipation, and she fights the visceral urge to bite down on Azzi’s neck and leave a mark so permanent, no other girl would ever have the audacity to look at what’s hers. 

“Oh, I didn’t know,” she hears the offending flirt say.

“Well now you do,” Paige replies before Azzi can respond, keeping her eyes focused on the girl in front of her, “she’s not interested.”

The sound of feet scurrying away makes Paige smirk. Azzi raises her eyes but doesn’t make a move to pull away. 

“You looked like you needed help,” the blond lies blatantly, “and I’m nothing if not helpful.”

“Is that what you were doing? Trying to be helpful?” Azzi asks, a coy smile playing on her lips as she presses closer to Paige, “because I could have sworn you were jealous.”

Paige’s breath hitches as she focuses on the way Azzi says those words, the way her lips quirk and her eyes sparkle, because it’s not the alcohol this time, no she’s pretty damn sure Azzi’s flirting with her. The realization sets her heart ablaze and she grips Azzi’s waist even tighter, trying to find something stable to hold onto. 

“And if- if I was-  if I was jealous, then what?”

“I’d tell you, you didn’t really have a reason to be. She wasn’t really my type.”

“Yeah,” Paige can’t help but smirk, suddenly feeling a surge of confidence, “what is your type Azzi?”

Azzi hums, her shy smile a response in itself. They’re so close now, with their chests pressed up against each other, that Paige can hear the erratic thrum of Azzi’s heart beating. It’s comforting in a way, to know that she has the effect on Azzi too, that she’s the reason Azzi’s breathing is so uneven. Subconsciously, Paige leans in, eyes tracing the outline of Azzi’s lips, her entire body wracked with want. 

“Azzi,” she whispers, knocking her forehead against the other girl’s, “tell me to stop.” 

Anticipation burns against Paige’s skin, the feeling of finally racing through her body. She’s hypnotized by the way they seem to be breathing as one. Her eyes close of their own accord and she can almost feel the taste of Azzi’s lips when the brunette presses a gentle hand against her chest. 

“Stop,” Azzi whispers. 

Paige’s eyes fly open. Stung, she lets go of Azzi’s waist immediately, the tears ready to fall. She’d been so sure she’d read the moment right-

“Hey, hey no Paige wait,” Azzi scrambles to grab onto the blonde, fully aware of the panic that has settled into the other girl's bones, “I didn’t- I just- I didn’t mean it like that. I- fuck sorry, I don’t- I want-” she takes in a deep breath, her brain unable to speak her mind, “I want to kiss you, I do- I just don’t want our first kiss to be in front of all these people.”

The last part is a little mumbled but Paige hears it clear as day. She gapes at her best friend, not sure if she wants to shake her or jump her bones (both, definitely both). 

“You couldn’t have just said that?” Paige asks exasperatedly, “I don’t really take rejection well in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I panicked, you were so close and I was distracted,” Azzi rambles incoherently and Paige is so ridiculously endeared by this girl. 

“Azzi,” she says slowly, stepping back into the younger girl's space, and holding out a hand, “you wanna get out of here?”

She’s rewarded with a bright smile and Azzi  grabbing her outstretched hand with no hesitation. As the two of them make their way through the crowd, hands locked together, Paige can’t think of a moment where she’s felt this ecstatic. They stumble through the street towards their apartments, giggling like kindergarteners who’ve just been given a sweet treat. After a year, longer, of holding it in, Paige feels like she’s finally free. 

They’ve barely made it to Paige’s room, before she has Azzi pinned against the wall causing the younger girl to let out an audible gasp. It’s sinful the way she looks up at Paige, as if she’d do anything for her. And god Paige wants to find out just how much she can push that. 

“Tell me to stop,” Paige repeats her words from the bar, her right thumb coming up to  lightly caressing Azzi’s bottom lip. She’s giving her an out, a last chance before they cross a line in their friendship that they’ll never be able to uncross. But her words evoke a new fire in Azzi’s eyes and Paige just knows. 

“Absolutely not.”

She’s not sure who kisses who first, doesn’t really care but she knows she’s never felt anything quite like this. It’s something beyond sparks, something more exciting, yet something ever so calming. All she knows is she wants more. Her hands roam everywhere, moving from Azzi’s neck, to her arms, to her hips before moving even lower. And Azzi fucking whimpers, the sound of it causing Paige to press even harder against her. She pulls away and Azzi chases her lips for a second, before Paige attaches them to the younger girl’s neck instead. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this,” Paige manages to get out, biting against Azzi’s skin. She means to be soft, she really does but all she can think about is leaving a mark, a possessive bruise that would make sure everyone knew not to touch what was hers.

“Not longer than me,” Azzi’s hands are tangled in Paige's hair and she’s putty in the older girl’s hand. Paige could ask anything of her, and Azzi’s sure, she’d give it to her in a heartbeat. 

“I’m gonna make it worth the wait,” Paige pants, moving away from the brunette’s neck to kiss her again, “I promise.”

“Gonna show me what the hype is about?” Azzi says cheekily, as Paige pulls her onto the bed. She climbs on top of the blond, straddling her thighs. 

“Gonna show you even better,” Paige whispers and Azzi shivers at the promise in her voice. And then Paige’s lips her on hers again, desperate and impatient. Her hands work meticulously as she unbuttons Azzi’s blouse, leaving the young girl’s upper body bare. Azzi can't help the insecurity that creeps into her when Paige stares at her like that, like she’s seeing her for the first time. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Paige says, erasing away the doubt, “fuck, marry me.”

Paige doesn’t know why that slips out, doesn’t know why it rolls off her tongue so smoothly, doesn’t know why it doesn’t feel like a completely preposterous thing to say at the moment. 

“You say that to all your hookups?” Azzi asks slowly. It’s said light-heartedly enough but the hints of doubt aren’t hard to catch. In one swift motion, Paige flips them so that Azzi’s lying underneath her. Using her elbows, she hovers over the younger girl, making sure she can see the sincerity in her eyes. 

“No, no I don't. And you,” she says pointedly, needing Azzi to understand how she feels, “are not a hookup.”

Azzi smiles, arms wrapping around Paige’s neck, “maybe take me out on a date first and then we can talk about marriage.”

“Yeah, yeah I will but,” Paige grins devilishly, fingers dancing around the waistband of Azzi’s jeans, “I think I’ll fuck you first.

3. on the brink of destruction (maybe you’ll catch me)

The third time Paige says it, she’s desperately trying to save them from falling apart. They’ve always known this moment would come, known it even before they’d known each other. To play in the WNBA had always been the end-goal for both of them and it should be the happiest moment of their lives with both of them being guaranteed first-round picks who were likely to make a roster. But the whole thing comes with the caveat, that for the first time in almost four years, Paige and Azzi will have to learn to live apart from each other. 

Paige hadn’t even considered that it would mean they’d have to break up. The whole season, despite a thousand and one conversations about the draft, the idea hadn’t once been brought up. Long distance would be difficult, Paige knew that, but she’d figured they’d tackle it in the same way they’d faced everything else: together. Apparently Azzi thought differently. Apparently Azzi had been thinking about it for a while and last night, when she’d finally said the words out loud, Paige’s whole world had fallen off balance. She’d tried interrupting but once Azzi had her mind set on something, it was hard to deter her.

It’s been less than 24 hours since and KK and Ice have done everything in their power to distract her but Paige can’t stop thinking about it. If she hadn’t known Azzi for as long as she had, then maybe she would have believed the façade of coldness and practicality that her girlfriend had put on. She had spoken as if she was negotiating the end of a contract, her face set firmly on neutral. But Paige had seen the way she was fidgeting uncontrollably with the hem of her shirt, heard the little crack in her voice when she’d said the actual words out loud. 

“Was she at breakfast?” Paige asks, interrupting whatever spiel KK had been going on. The sophomore gives her a look that veers between irritation and sympathy. 

“Dude, we weren’t even at breakfast. We ate with you up here, remember?”

“Right,” Paige says, mindlessly thumbing at her sheets. She’s in unfamiliar territory, trying to navigate a world without Azzi. She can’t even remember the last morning she’d had that didn’t start with some form of communication with her girlfriend, a good morning kiss or a text or a call. 

“Y’all are being stupid,” Ice supplies unhelpfully. 

“Don’t even start,” Paige quips back defensively, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Maybe that’s the issue,” KK’s report is met with a well-aimed pillow in her direction. 

“Can you guys maybe just take my side for once please?”

“Children of divorce don’t choose sides,” Ice says solemnly. She has the foresight to duck and Paige’s water bottle hits the wall with a resounding thud, “aye no violence.”

“Fuck off and go away,” Paige groans, burying her face in her hands. 

“This is literally my room,” Ice replies and KK snickers. 

“I’m so glad my misery amuses you guys.”

Before either of the two underclassmen can reply, a familiar voice resounds around the room and Paige’s heart almost beats out of her chest. It’s been less than 24 hours but fuck, she’s missed the sound of it.

“Ice do you have- oh.”

“Hi Azzi,” KK says enthusiastically and Paige can already picture the forced smile Azzi gives her. She hates that stupid smile. 

“Hey KK. I- uh, Ice I was looking for the  necklace you borrowed. I- uh wanted to wear it with my dress for the draft, but umm- it’s- it’s fine. I’ll come back later.”

Paige scoffs, suddenly annoyed. She lifts her head from her hands and Azzi’s already looking at her but the minute their eyes meet, she looks away. It only irritates Paige further. 

“It’s fine Az. I can get it for you now,” Ice says, hopping up and rummaging through one of her. 

“No it’s fine, I should go. I have to go do…something.”

“You’re such a fucking liar,” Paige says before she can stop herself. The awkwardness in the air changes to a sinister tension. KK and Ice wear identical expressions of shock and worry, looking back and forth between Paige and Azzi.

“Excuse me?” Azzi says eyes narrowing dangerously. 

“All that bullshit you said last night. You said we’d still be friends. You said it’d be like we used to be before. You said things wouldn’t change that much and this would be for the better. You said we’d be fine. But fucking hell Azzi, you can’t even stand to be in the same room as me right now,” tears prickle in her eyes and she can’t tell if they’re from anger or pain or frustration. 

“I-It will be okay. We’ll be fine, eventually,” Azzi pauses, struggling to get the words out, “I just- we just- we need time to learn how to be just friends again.”

“I don’t want to be just friends Azzi,” Paige spits. 

“Neither do I,” Azzi bursts out, hands clenching, “but we have to try.”

“Oh-kay,” KK cuts in, noticing the rise in voices, “just because Ice and I call ourselves children of divorce, doesn’t mean y’all have to act like an actual divorced couple. All this yelling is not good for my heart.”

“Shut up KK,” they snap at the same time, and KK immediately raises her hands in surrender. 

“Why,” Paige turns her attention back to Azzi, “why do we have to try? You don’t want to be just friends. I sure as shit don’t want to be just friends. So what’s the fucking point? When neither of us want this, why are we fucking doing this?”

“Because I’m scared okay?” Azzi yells, her eyes widening as the truth slips out. She immediately cups her mouth, her anger fading away. Tears pool at the corner of her eyes, as emotions she’d been trying so hard to push down, bubble to the surface. She sees the way Paige eyes soften, can feel the sympathy in the way KK and Ice are looking at her, but before any of them can say anything, her feet are moving, desperate to get away from them, from Paige. 

“Paige,” Ice hisses when the blond stays rooted in place, “move.”

It does the trick, shaking Paige out of her trance. She doesn’t need to be told twice. When she gets to Azzi’s room, she stops outside the door. The goal is to fix things but she’s so scared of damaging them further. Taking a deep breath, she lets herself in and is unsurprised to find Azzi pacing the length of the room. 

“You have ‘got to stop running away from me. I’m not as young as I used to be,” Paige jokes. She’s not expecting a smile in return, the situation is far too tense, but when Azzi looks at her with nothing but sadness, all the humour leaves her body. 

“Please leave me alone,” Azzi whispers,  “please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“You’re the one making this harder Az. We don’t have to do this,” Paige takes a step forward, groaning when Azzi immediately takes a step back. 

“We do because otherwise we’re gonna fall apart. You don’t see it but we’re gonna end up resenting each other because we miss each other so much,” Azzi says miserably, the tears freely falling now. 

“You think I’ll miss you less if you’re not my girlfriend? You think breaking up is going to stop us from falling apart?” Paige asks incredulously, “you know you’ve had some stupid ideas before Azzi, but this, this one might be the dumbest yet.”

“Well, do you have a better one?” Azzi asks, throwing her hands in the air. 

“Yes, let’s just get married instead! Then we’ll have to be stuck with each other for life and you can stop trying to break up with me,” and maybe it’s somewhat of an irrational thing to say but Paige finds that she means it.

“Paige,” Azzi grits out, “this is serious.”

“I’m being dead serious right now actually.”

“Marriage is not going to stop us from being drafted to different teams. It’s not gonna stop us from having to live in different states.”

“Neither is breaking up,” Paige yells. Frustrated, she marches over to Azzi, encircling her arms around the other girl who immediately struggles against Paige's hold but the blonde is in no mood to let this, whatever it is, go on any further. 

“Let me go-”

“No. It’s my turn to talk okay,” Paige says, tightening her grip, “get this through your head, we are not breaking up.”

She pinches Azzi’s waist when the younger girl tries to protest. Her girlfriend is nothing if not stubborn but so is Paige. 

“You know I barely slept last night? I’ve been so fucking miserable all day. I’ve spent every minute thinking about you, every minute missing you. And if we do this, that feeling of missing you and knowing I can’t have you, is how I’m going to feel for the rest of my life. And that, that might kill me. I know you think it’ll be easier being friends or whatever but I can’t do that Azzi. I can’t be your friend. I can’t be near you and not kiss you. I can’t call you and not tell you I love you,” Paige’s voice breaks near the end as tears begin to stream down her face. 

“I’m scared. I’m so scared. I don’t want to lose you,” Azzi confesses in a whisper and it’s heartbreaking how vulnerable the darker-skinned girl sounds. 

“Then don’t. Keep me and let me keep you. I know you're scared baby but,” Paige presses her forehead against Azzi’s, “but trust me Azzi, we’ll make it work okay. I need you to believe that. I need you to believe in us. Please Azzi, please.”

Azzi closes her eyes and Paige can almost see the cogs turning in her brain. Waiting for a decision is excruciating and the silence feels deafening as Paige’s intrusive thoughts drive her a little insane. 

“Okay,” Azzi breathes out finally, “okay we’ll try it your way. But if it doesn’t work-”

“It’s going to work,” Paige says determinedly. And finally, Azzi smiles, the real one that Paige loves. 

“It’s going to work,” she repeats back, leaning up to kiss Paige and letting out an ungraceful squawk when Paige dodges her lips, “excuse me.”

“You don’t get a kiss,” the older girl replies, moving out of reach and crossing her arms, “you just tried to break up with me. Twice.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whines, “please, I haven’t kissed you for hours.”

“And whose fault is that?” Paige accuses but there’s no true anger behind her words. 

Azzi pouts for a second before it’s replaced by a mischievous smirk. Before Paige can react, she jumps onto the blond, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck. The impact of it causes Paige to stumble back a little bit before her hands settle on Azzi's hips to keep them both stable. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Azzi babbles, kissing every inch of Paige’s face. 

“Okay, okay, okay, you’re forgiven.” Paige laughs. She’s never been particularly good at staying mad at Azzi. The knot in her chest, which’s been pressing against her ribcage since last night, finally unravels as Paige tugs Azzi closer, finally pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss. A low wolf-whistle from the doorway breaks them apart far sooner than they’d have liked. 

“Y’all didn’t even last a whole 24 hours,” KK’s voice is amused but there’s a hint of relief hidden in it. 

“Should’ve closed the fucking door,” Paige grumbles as Azzi giggles into the crevice between her head and her neck. 

“That’s gotta be a record for shortest breakup ever or something,” and there’s Ice, looking equally as amused. 

“You know what that means though, parents are back together and,” KK smirks at Ice and Paige looks between the two of them questioningly, “you owe me 50 bucks.”

“Excuse me?” Paige asks with a raised eyebrow, although she’s pretty sure she already knows. 

“Ice said y’all would be broken up for a week. I gave y’all three days,” KK grins triumphantly, despite Ice giving her a dirty look. 

“I can’t believe you guys would bet on us,” Azzi shakes her head disapprovingly as she lifts her head, “actually no scratch that. I’m not surprised at all.”

“We were too generous with it though,” Ice gives them a knowing look, “can’t believe y’all thought you could survive for years.”

“Not y’all,” Paige corrects, “just Azzi.”

Azzi groans, “you’re never gonna let me forget this are you?”

“Nope,” Paige says happily, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s temple, who immediately grins. And everything in the world is right again. It’s not going to be easy being god knows how many miles apart, but Paige knows they’ll be fine. They have to be. She won’t let them be anything else. 

4. the high of it all (as long as you hold me)

The fourth time she says it, Paige doesn’t even fully remember it the day after. She won’t find out exactly what she’s said until a couple of years into the future when Azzi tells her the story with a fond look in her eye. It’s a month or so into their rookie seasons when their respective teams meet: the Lynx vs the Mystics, funny how that had worked out. So far, they’d both been doing well, locked in a competitive race for rookie of the year. As a result, their matchup is well-hyped, but no one’s more excited for it, than the two of them. 

The game ends with the Lynx winning and Paige shoots Azzi a victorious smirk which earns her a familiar eye roll. She loves winning always but this time there’s the additional reward of having her girlfriend back in her bed for the first time in weeks. The anticipation of it has her running her tongue across her lips, and with the way Azzi’s eyes glaze over, it’s clear they’re thinking the same thing. 

A couple of hours later, the Lynx team is spread out across one of the bars near their arena and Paige is definitely teetering on the edge of being drunk. She’d been a lot more reserved the other couple of times they’d done this, not wanting to take the chance of potentially embarrassing herself in front of her older teammates. But she feels freer tonight and the reason for it hasn't walked in yet.

“You two haven’t changed at all huh?” Dorka laughs, as she watches Paige pouting at the door. 

“Hey,” Paige whines, “I haven’t seen her in months! And now she’s taking too long.”

“One month,” Dorka corrects, shaking her head fondly, “and you talk to her every other hour.” 

“Same differ-”

“Hi,” an unfamiliar voice cuts Paige off, an auburn haired girl sliding into the stool next to her, “you’re Paige Bueckers?”

“Last time I checked,” Paige replies goofily, eyes still fixed on the front door. 

“I’m Shay. I’m a huge fan,” the stranger gushes, her smile radiant, “could I maybe get a picture?”

Never one to disappoint, especially not when she’s a little out of it, Paige nods. She wraps her arm casually around Shay’s shoulder, and makes a peace sign with her other hand as the other girl takes a selfie. 

“Thank you,” Shay takes a deep breath, “I uh, I was wondering if I could maybe get your num-”

“Babyyyyyy,” Paige lets out a shrill squeak as she spots her girlfriend finally entering the door. All else seems to fade away as the blonde practically skips towards her girlfriend. Dorka, who’d been watching the previous exchange, can’t help but give a very shell-shocked-looking Shay a sympathetic smile. 

“Hi babyyyy,” Paige croons again as she throws her arms around her girlfriend's neck, burying her face contentedly into Azzi’s neck. It doesn’t matter that she’s an inch or so taller than the younger girl, she fits in Azzi’s arms pretty perfectly. 

“Hi drunkie,” Azzi says fondly, brushing her hands through Paige’s hair and eliciting a happy sigh from the inebriated blond in her arms, “started without me I see.”

“You took too long and I was bored,” Paige says, snuggling further, her breath tickling against Azzi’s collarbone, making the younger girl’s breath hitch. Smirking, Paige bites down gently, knowing the exact effect it’ll have. Almost five years together, and the idea of marking her girlfriend still drives her a little insane. 

“Behave,” Azzi warns, her voice breathy, “we’re in public.”

“Then let’s get out of public,” Paige whispers as she caresses the mark she’s just left on Azzi’s throat with her tongue, clearly proud of her handiwork, “let me take you home.”

“I just got here babe,” it’s a weak response, they both know it. 

“So what?”

“I-,” Azzi stutters as Paige continues to pepper kisses into her neck, one of her hands sliding down to brush against Azzi’s exposed navel, “I haven’t even said hi to anyone else.”

“Are you here for anyone else? Or are you here for me?” 

It’s a blur how it happens, but one minute Paige is tucked under Azzi’s arms, the next Azzi finds herself pressed against the bar, Paige's hands barricading her. It's too dimly lit for anyone to be fully aware of what’s going on but Azzi desperately tries to stifle a moan when Paige shifts so that she’s filthily grinding against one of Azzi’s thighs, lips still attached to her neck. 

“Gonna make you feel so good baby. Gonna give you whatever you want. Gonna give you everything you need,” the blond promises, knowing, when Azzi’s eyes involuntarily close, that she’s close to getting what she wants, “just let me take you home.”

“Azzi!” The feeling of getting her way is short lived as Dorka’s voice echoes around them. Paige groans as her girlfriend’s eyes immediately fly open and she ducks under Paige arms to hug their old UConn teammate.

As the two other girls meet, Paige downs another drink, mumbling about “fucking Hungarians.”

“Ignore her,” Azzi rolls her eyes, still hugging Dorka, who lets out a laugh. 

“Alright that’s enough,” Paige frowns, pulling Azzi back into her so that her back is pressed against Paige’s chest, “go find your own Azzi to hug, this one’s mine and we’re leaving.”

Sober Paige does not get testy when Azzi hugs other people, especially not old teammates and friends, well not a lot anyway. But drunk Paige doesn’t like sharing her girlfriend, no matter how platonically that is. 

“Always so possessive Bueckers,” Dorka teases, but she complies  “it was good seeing you Az. Don’t be late to practice Paige.”

The blond point guard lets out a satisfied sigh, lacing her hands with Azzi’s, “see you’ve met people, now can we please go?”

“I’ve met one person,” Azzi rolls her eyes but doesn’t put up a fight as her girlfriend begins to pull her out of the bar. 

The uber ride back to Paige’s apartment is relatively silent with Paige tucking herself into Azzi, who can tell that despite her previous eagerness, her girlfriend is pretty likely to pass out the minute she lies down. It doesn’t matter really. Cuddles. Sex. Whatever. As long as it’s with Paige, Azzi loves every minute of it. Besides, there’s always tomorrow morning. 

“M’sorry, m’so tired,” Paige mumbles as she does exactly what Azzi had expected by flopping onto the bed the minute they tumble into the bedroom, “make it up to you tomorrow. I promise.”

The brunette shakes her head with a smile, taking both their shoes off, before lying down next to her girlfriend, who immediately curls into her, wrapping her arms around Azzi’s torso. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I missed you,” she whispers into Azzi’s skin, eyes closed. 

“Missed you too baby,” the darker skinned girl pressed a kiss onto her girlfriend’s forehead, squeezing her arm gently. 

There’s a pause and for a second Azzi thinks maybe Paige has fallen asleep until the next words come out her mouth and steal Azzi’s breath away. 

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Paige confesses in a whisper, “you’re gonna make the prettiest bride. We’re gonna have such a beautiful wedding. Outside. Maybe on a basketball court.  And Coach is gonna officiate it and everyone’s gonna be there. Our family, our friends and it’s gonna be wonderful. The best ever.”

Azzi can’t bring herself to speak, the emotions suddenly becoming a little too strong. She knows Paige is drunk but the words are so sincere, like they’re things Paige has been thinking about for a long time. 

“Gonna have two kids,” Paige smiles as she continues to babble, unaware of the effect that has on Azzi, “a girl and a boy. They’re gonna be the most loved kids in the world. And we’re gonna teach them basketball. And they’re gonna be perfect, just like you. Just like us.”

In the silence, Azzi listens to Paige’s breathing even out, a sign that the older girl has drifted into sleep. And she lets herself imagine the picture Paige had just painted for her. As she holds her girlfriend closer to her, she knows she wants that life too. The wedding. The kids. The perfection of it all. She falls asleep dreaming about it, unaware that hidden in the drawer right next to her, is a ring that has her name on it. 

5. finding forever (the inevitability of us) 

When Paige finally proposes, they’re back at the Minnesota State Fair. She’s had the ring for a couple of years now, waiting for things to fall into place so that they could finally play on the same team and actually be together. That hadn’t been an easy process and of course, they’d argued about it, perhaps going a little too far at times. But now, when she finally gets to wake up to Azzi’s peaceful sleepy smile, every single morning, it all seems worth it. 

The proposal, if Paige is honest, is just a formality. In her head, she’s been a married woman for a long time. Whatever ceremony they’d have, whatever papers they’d sign, wouldn’t do much to alter their already domestic lives. But she wanted that celebration, the moment with her family and friends where they’d become bound in the one way they weren’t yet: legally. And this proposal was the start of that. 

The list of ideas she’d planned out and discussed with their family and friends was long and had earned her plenty of sighs and eye rolls. Nothing had seemed quite right until she’d whined about it to both their mothers. They’d said to go back to the beginning and it had all clicked into place. 

As they have every year since they’d started coming to the state fair together, they’re engaged in a competition again. Every year, they get a little bit more competitive and every year their families' sighs get a little heavier. Something about it, makes the two of them reverse back to being fifteen. The ridiculous trash talk, the sticking their tongues out at each other, the exaggerated pouting when they lose, it’s all further proof of them still being children at heart. Except now, when Azzi pouts, Paige gets to kiss it off. 

They’re tied again this summer, as they seem to be most years. Though this year, there’s been a little bit of planning on Paige’s part. 

“Pop-a-shot it is,” Azzi sighs, “even though you absolutely cheated on that last hole in mini golf,” she turns to their families, who normally would have left by now but have stayed back today, with a dramatic spin, “and I can’t believe you all saw it, but you’re taking her side.”

“Not me Azzi, I’m on your side. I know she cheated,” Drew, the traitor, chirps with a smirk and Paige glares at her little brother whose loyalty to her girlfriend never wavers. 

“Thank you Drew. The only person who loves me for real,” Azzi puts one hand to her heart, and ruffles the younger boy’s with the other. 

“Save the dramatics for when you lose babe,” Paige says, rolling her eyes, “alright rock paper scissors.”

They play best of three as they always do. Paige wins the first round. Azzi wins the second. There’s momentary panic when Azzi technically wins the third because well, Paige sort of needs to be in control if this is going to work. The thing is Azzi likes to mix up whether she’ll choose to go first or second, according to her it keeps Paige on her toes. But today Paige really needs her girlfriend to go second. 

“Oh Az no cheating,” Tim cuts in, coming to the rescue, “you waited to see what she’d do.”

“WHAT?” Azzi squeals, “I absolutely did not.”

“Oh honey, I think you did,” Katie sends Paige a wink and she can’t help but smile at the family she’s found. 

“You’re not serious,” Azzi says with a betrayed voice, squinting at her parents, before turning to Paige’s mom, who gives her a consoling pat, “please adopt me.”

“Oh quit whining cheater,” Paige teases, “I’m going first.”

She steps up to the line for the game, feeling more nervous than she ever has really because this is it. There isn’t really a world in which she thinks Azzi will say no, at least not one where Paige continues breathing after. But she needs this to be perfect. Bouncing the ball for a second, she takes in a deep breath before raising her arms and shooting. It goes in, barely touching the room. So does the next. And the next one and the next one, until Paige has gotten nine shots in. 

As she goes to shoot the last one, Azzi's voice echoes around her, “miss it for me babe.”

And she does. It’s probably one of the weakest shot’s she’s ever taken in her life, the ball falling far below the basket. Behind her, she can hear their brother’s snickering. 

“Damn someone should send that to Coach,” Azzi teases, hip-checking Paige as she comes to take her spot, “better luck next time baby.”

“Yeah, yeah let’s see you do better,” Paige replies cockily, but her hands are sweating with nerves. 

“Oh you know I will,” her girlfriend responds with a grin, as she makes the first basket, that same perfect arc as always. Paige holds her breath on every shot, as the ball goes in flawlessly every time, their families cheering loudly for each one of them. As the last basket gets closer, Drew gives Paige’s hand a tight squeeze and gets a grateful smile in return. 

Taking a deep breath, as Azzi gets ready to take her last turn, Paige repeats the same words she’d said, the first time they’d been in this situation, “if you make the last shot, you have to marry me.”

“What?” Azzi whips around immediately, her eyes bright with confusion. Tongue-tied, Paige only shrugs and smiles, watching closely as Azzi lets the words sink in. A determined look crosses her face, followed by a mischievous smirk, and Paige’s heart swells. She knows the ball is going in the hoop even before the other girl's arms are in shooting position. And she’s right. The ball arcs in air and falls through the basket. And instead of the patent WINNER that normally lights up when someone makes the 10 shots, a new phrase appears on the dashboard. 

MARRY ME

Azzi gasps, hands flying to her mouth. When she whirls around, Paige is already on one knee and their families are watching with the biggest smiles. 

“I knew you lost on purpose,” Azzi breathes out, “you’ve never taken such a shit shot like that last one in your life.”

“Seriously,” Paige gapes up at her, “that’s what you get from this.”

“Babe, you hate losing,” Azzi emphasizes as if that explains everything and well, maybe it does.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Paige nods, reaching in her back pocket to pull out the ring, “but if you say yes to me today, then it doesn’t matter if I win or lose in a stupid arcade game, or on the court or anywhere, if you say yes Azzi, no matter what, I’ll always be a winner because I’ll have you. And I had a slightly better, slightly longer speech planned but it’s kinda all gone from my mind now, so I’ll just get right to it,” she manages a watery smile in response to her girlfriend’s tearful laugh, “Azzi, my soulmate and the love of my life, will you marry me?”

“Yes. Oh my god yes, of course, yes,” Azzi manages to get out, before she falls to her knees and into Paige’s arms, pressing her lips fervently against the blonde’s, their happy tears mixing into each other. Behind them, their families burst into cheers, hugging one another in congratulations.

“Wait, wait,” Paige pulls away, her smile stretching across her whole face, “I need to put the ring on you.”

She opens the ring box, to reveal a silver band that’s designed with a large diamond in the shape of a heart in the middle with two infinity shapes made out of smaller diamonds on each side of the heart. Azzi holds out her hand, eyes shining as Paige slips it onto her ring finger. It sparkles underneath the glow of the moonlight. 

“You finally got me a real one,” she whispers, continuing to admire the ring, “fuck, Paige it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah it took me a couple of years but I always knew I would. Look at the inside,” Paige nudges and Azzi squints to see the inscription on the inner edge of the ring. 

Since Always

The meaning of it is clear and Azzi lets out something in between a sob and a laugh before throwing herself back into Paige’s waiting arms. 

“I love you,” she whispers into her girlfriend’s, no, her fiance’s ears, “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

Paige’s arms tighten around Azz as she repeats it back, the word wife, evoking a newfound feeling she doesn’t quite know how to put in words. Their families begin to crowd them, until they’re all just a heap of bodies, likely earning some odd looks from passers-by. But it really doesn’t matter. It’s odd to think there had ever been a time when Paige had stood in this same cool Minnesota summer evening breeze and not know what love was, not known who Azzi was. Because this right here, with her fiancé in her arms, and their family all around them, this, she thinks, is the definition of love.

[plumpedxprincess]

The Breeding Facility (Part 3)

reader insert | accelerated pregnancy | multiples | rapid hyper preg | alien pregnancy

a/n: this is most self indulgent and last part. definitely borrowed some of these ideas from other stuff i’ve read over the years

~~~

After your last three pregnancies were quadruplets, you were getting tired of the same thing happening. Your body’s growth still was incredible to you, but going home to your little bedroom all alone wasnt feeling like enough anymore.

As you talked with the other pregnant patients in the facility, you started hearing rumors about the men upstairs. At first you assumed they were talking about the owners of the facility, but you soon learned in one of the other wings of the center, there was an upstairs area dedicated to different breeding facilities.

Breeding facilities with men of another species.

The pregnancies were more extreme than anything here, and you were curious. You were greedy, selfish, wanting to know what was happening as well as get in on it.

At your last check up before labor with your current set of twins (a change of pace to make sure your body was still doing well), you asked your doctor about it.

“Oh, yes, there is a separate breeding facility for a different project. We are helping produce population for an alien species.” Dr. Ambrosia says, looking over your paperwork, “Honestly, hun, with your history, you would be a perfect candidate.”

After expressing your interest, she goes on, “Instead of being inseminated artificially, you will have sex with one of our volunteers. You get put up in an apartment home for the next few weeks and stay with him. Since the pregnancy is different from humans, there are some changes.”

Your doctor tells you about how these pregnancies last a little longer even while accelerated, and that the side effects are different. That’s why you stay with the father.

You sign some paper work and not even three days after you give birth, you are whisked away to the second floor.

Your new home is lovely, a studio with a small kitchen with a stocked pantry, a living and dining room, and a bed in the far corner.

You are only standing in the room for three minutes before a man enters. He is tall, broad, and his skin gives off a purple hue. He smiles at you before walking toward you.

His handsome features captivate you, making it easy when you realize he’s the one you’ll be having sex with. It’s not long before you are on all fours on the bed, completely naked as he plows into you.

His dick is quite large and when he comes, he releases more than you anticipated, leaving you bloated with cum.

You fall asleep soon after than, but wake to your hunger. Not only for food but also for him.

You break open the snack pantry, devouring three sleeves of cookies and crackers in less than five minutes. When you finally pause, you look down to see your stomach has swelled to look six months large already. Your belly isn’t as firm as it normally is, it’s a little softer, and you rub your hands over it excitedly.

“Do you feel it?” a voice calls behind you.

You turn around to see the man.

“Do you feel hungry for food and hungry for more seed?”

You find yourself nodding at him. He smiles and as he fucks you across the dining table he whispers in your ear the fact that he got you more pregnant.

Was it possible that this species could impregnate the same person more than once at a time? You came to the idea that you would be absolutely massive in just a few days.

And massive you were. Not even six more rounds of sex and you were barely able to walk. You were sprawled out on the couch presently, as your man fed you dinner.

When he wasn’t feeding you, he was fucking you. It was a lovely time. He took great care of you.

The best part was the companionship, the belly rubs, the food, the help getting up out of a chair.

With all the fucking you were doing, you had to keep eating. Every time he fucked you, a new baby was added. Along with the growth spurts from the already present babies, you were getting large quite fast.

Your belly was past your knees in just a few days. You couldn’t see your feet. Your arms had to rest on your belly with how wide you were. All you wore was a skimpy tank top that barely covered the swell of your breasts.

Your man constantly rubbed your belly. You found that when he mumbled something near your navel, your belly started to swell even more. You wondered when you would ever stop growing. You didn’t mind though.

A doctor came to visit on the fourth day, after countless fucks and more food than you had ever eaten in your past pregnancies combined. You were seated up right in the bed, where you hadn’t been able to move from since this morning.

Your doctor said you looked good though, and that once the very first baby implanted was ready for labor the rest would follow shortly after. She said it could still be a few days or even a week.

You moaned as you ran your hands over the swell of your belly. It was gargantuan. You couldn’t see the TV anymore. You could only see belly.

You moved your hands to your breasts which were more sensitive than ever. You were hornier than you had ever been.

As if senses your needs, you felt a pair of hands descend on your belly, rubbing in big circles. The man you had once described as a giant was now looking small in comparison to you.

“Are you hungry for more?” he asks.

“I just ate 10 minutes ago?” you ask back confused.

“no,” he says, “hungry for more of this.”

he mumbles against your skin and you feel a flutter of kicks, hearing a gurgle of motion as your belly expands even more.

You moan at the sensation, horny as ever by your expanding body, and he slides his cock into you.

When the expansion finally stops, he comes, dumbing another round of cum, another child into your already colossal dome of a belly.

“I can’t move,” you mumble later as he feeds you more food to feed your young.

“You don’t need to move, only grow.”

This is an insanely crazy mess you’ve gotten yourself into, but you can’t seem to mind.

~~~

It’s officially been a week, with no sign of stopping. The bed you are resting on must be made of extreme materials, because you now fill most of it, and your partner has to sleep on the couch.

Despite your massive size, he still fucks you, still mumbles his expansive words on you, still feeds you like there is no tomorrow.

With all the kicking and constant motion within your belly, you want them out. You miss going for walks outside. You miss when your tits werent taking up most of your vision.

You miss not being horny constantly. It was fine with the other pregnancies but with how large you’ve become you feel nothing but the need of release.

Your man is preparing food in the small kitchen, and you can barely see him around the large dome of your belly. You are seated half propped up in bed, which is the only comfortable way you’ve been able to lay these past few days.

You’re debating asking him to fuck you after he feeds you. Part of you wants it extremely badly. The other part of you isn’t sure how much bigger you can handle being. If you’re this horny at this size how much worse will it get before you finally go into labor?

As you see him finish up in the kitchen, you stroke the sides of your massively inflated midsection. You haven’t seen your belly button in days, let alone be able to touch it.

When you see him start to walk towards you, you feel it. Not labor, no, but another growth spurt. Oh god.

You aren’t sure how it’s possible for you to get any bigger, but you do, as you frantically rub your hands in circles around your belly. Whenever there’s a growth spurt, the babies inside of you get riled up, causing something along the lines between pain and pleasure.

Your man sees this, and sets down the plate next to you and plants his hands on your belly too. His eyes are filled with hunger but you aren’t even sure he will be able to reach your core to do anything about it. He’s filled you up so much. To the absolute max.

You’re immobile, completely owned by this man at this point. at his will.

You wondered how much longer you could last.

~~~

[gurugirl]

Forgive Me, Father | Part 1

Summary: Harry is a priest with a dark secret but he's got a big heart and he's looking for someone special to share it with. When Y/n confesses her sins, he thinks she might just be the one.

A/n: Part 1 of 3 - this is 16k words. I haven't really written anything with this type of dom/sub play before - though this first part doesn't get too deep into it, you'll know it when you read it.

Warning: Dom/sub dynamics, mentions of religion and sin, floggings for pleasure and penance, mentions of sexual situations and masturbation, sexual tension, mentions of caging, punishment, cheating

| Read on Wattpad | Priestrry Masterlist

Harry was a holy man despite his particular desires. He became a priest relatively young but he took all the necessary steps; went to seminary for four years, studied theology and philosophy as an undergraduate, made his vows then became a man of the cloth. He was a deacon, his transitional role for just over a year in Manchester the first time he felt tempted by a beautiful young woman in the congregation. But he resisted. He knew the devil was trying him. But his holy side won out over his flesh.

He desired to act on his flesh, though. And he might have if he’d been given a moment alone with the young woman. He imagined what it would be like but it was easy to resist when he hadn’t really had a real opportunity. All his formative years had him at all-boys schools as well. His four years in seminary were spent amongst young men his age. It wasn’t until his fourth year at seminary that he realized he was even attracted to men. The realization was a difficult one for him at first, being a man of God, a Christian on the path to priesthood. It was troubling to him so he pushed his sexual desires down until they only manifested in his sleep with salacious dreams and waking up wet in his underwear.

When he finally became ordained and was given his own congregation he felt he’d made it at last. The road to get where he was took a long time. The diocese wouldn't take a man under 30 in many cases, so he found a place that would because he knew in his heart he was ready. There were no shortcuts to becoming a priest, a five-year-long journey at minimum. For many, the transitional period took a lot longer than it did for Harry. A year of transition as a deacon is the minimum and that’s all it took for Harry to be called by God to his own church.

Being a 27-year-old man with his own congregation in small-town Wisconsin felt daunting. Harry was not from the US and he’d never been to Wisconsin before arriving in the town. The parish was near the shores of Lake Michigan. It was quaint and quiet but it was home to nearly 100,000 people. Not so small that he'd be lacking for company.

Harry worked and lived in the same buildings for three years diligently. He was kind to his congregation, a good priest and leader, made friends with many of the people who were members, and always had a warm meal offered to him through an invite to come to the houses of families who attended his services.

He didn’t always take them up on the meals. Harry enjoyed being alone at the end of the day but most evenings he’d find himself at someone’s home eating a big dinner with people he usually considered family. On his 30th birthday, his congregation held a small surprise potluck for him after service one Sunday. He felt blessed to have such a wonderful group of followers. He truly loved them.

On a Friday evening, Mrs. Brockton had called Harry and invited him to dinner. Harry had a feeling deep down that he should say no. But he liked Mrs. Brockton. Maybe he liked her a little too much. He would never act on the carnal, it was in his vows to remain celibate, though the rules had been loosened somewhat over the years for priests, Harry was invested in the old way of doing things. God and his priesthood came first for him. The sin of lust led many to take a husband or a wife just for the sake of their flesh. Harry would not give his heart to anyone but God.

But part of that reasoning for going to the extreme with his vows was because of his unsavory desires. He never acted on them, but he fantasized and would have vivid dreams of the things he wished he could play out in real life. There was an aspect of denial of the flesh that he got off on as well. It made him feel superior in some ways; the continual denial of his lust and sin.

A man of thirty years, he was still a virgin, and happily. Proudly even. He also could count how many times in his life he'd masturbated when he became weak to his flesh. He rarely sinned in such a way but when he did it was always atoned for with a flog at his back and his chest.

Harry brought with him only his Bible when he arrived at Mr. and Mrs. Brockton's home. She told him not to bring any food or drink, but that she would have everything taken care of.

And she most certainly had everything taken care of. Down to the detail she conveniently forgot to mention, that Mr. Brockton was gone for a work trip in another city for the evening.

"I cannot stay Mrs. Brockton. I hope you do understand. We must at all times keep even the appearance of evil at bay. If others were to know I was here without Mr. Brockton they could get the wrong idea," he spoke as he clutched the Bible over his heart. The home smelled divine. She'd obviously been cooking up something wonderful and she clearly had taken the time to freshen up her appearance as well. Not that she needed it. Mrs. Brockton was a beautiful woman, even Harry could see that.

"Father Styles, please. Can we address one another casually? You can call me Natalie if you don't mind that I just call you Harry. And... look, I know I should have told you but I'm lonely and I need counsel tonight. As a friend. As someone I trust to not tell anyone my problems. George being gone tonight is the only time I'll have for this. I wanted this to be private."

Harry frowned. He didn't love it when his members called him by his first name, but it wasn't the end of the world. He'd always been warned about getting too close, too familiar. Friendly was good, but there was a line. However, he supposed just this once, and for Natalie, he could. She seemed to genuinely need him and his advice. So he relented and they sat in the living room while the dinner finished cooking in the oven.

“Fath… Harry,” Natalie said as she looked at Harry flustered, “I don’t know what to do about George. He keeps going away on these trips and I’m starting to wonder if there is something else going on.”

Harry listened to Natalie’s story. She had the feeling George was cheating on her but she had no proof. During dinner, Natalie set next to Harry and her demeanor changed. She was lighter and bubblier as the subject had shifted. Harry had given her some advice but he ultimately told Natalie that worrying over something without proof would take her eyes off God. That it did her soul no good to jump to conclusions. However, even as Harry said that he wondered himself about Mr. Brockton taking off on so many overnight trips.

After the plates were cleared and Natalie brought out a bottle of wine to share with Harry, they moved back into the living area and sat on the comfortable couch to continue their discussion. Harry had prayed with Natalie before they sipped their wine.

Natalie loved the way Harry's deep voice called to God when he spoke the prayer. The way his intense eyes would watch her as she spoke. His pink lips were kissable and his hair always looked so well-placed.

Harry was an attractive man. Many of the women in the congregation would gossip about how good-looking the priest was. Harry was tall, well-built, and gorgeous really. He was also smart and so well-behaved around all the women that it drove some of them crazy. Occasionally some would attempt to dress in a way that would attract him, and catch his eye, but it never worked. Harry was committed even if internally he was lusting.

But Mrs. Brockton, one time, had seen how Harry looked at her when she wore a particularly low-cut dress to Harry’s after he’d invited a small group over for prayer after Sunday mass. He would sometimes invite members of his congregation over for a drink and to pray after services. This wasn't too out of the ordinary.

After two glasses of wine, Harry was feeling a little loose, as he normally does under the influence. It hadn't been much wine, but he didn't need much as he usually refrained from drinking outside of these social settings. So a little was all it took.

This is when Mrs. Brockton noticed Harry's obvious gaze at her bosom. He even licked his lips and then looked down at his hands as he swallowed thickly. She saw it all. So she tested the waters and went to him before leaving with her husband.

"Will you send me off with a quick prayer, Father?" Her intentions were not pure, and Harry could feel it in the way she spoke, the way her eyes roamed his body, and the bite of her lip.

But he indulged her because denying her at that moment would raise more questions.

It was a fast little prayer. Mrs. Brockton grabbed Harry's hands in hers and as he prayed he felt her warm fingers gently move across the skin on his hands. It filled him with lust. Just the feel of her skin on his hand. When he opened his eyes, mid-prayer, a quick look, her breasts were in view again and they were delectable. Harry darted his gaze from her cleavage to her eyes and she was already looking at him with the smallest grin on her pretty face so Harry quickly shut his eyes and finished the prayer before sending everyone away.

That night was one of the rare times he masturbated. He'd grown hard in his pants as everyone was leaving and Mrs. Brockton made a show of swinging her hips and with the little hug she gave him on her way out of the door had her pressed against him and he felt lust in his heart.

He felt shame for it and he knew she saw him looking. He hated that his body wanted to have sex. Normally all of his lust would be reserved for his dreams He would wake from dreams where he'd be fucking men and women and coming. He'd dream of having soft lips sucking on his cock or he'd be doing the same. Or he'd wake to find that he wasn't in between a woman's legs licking over her soft parts. In his waking life, he got no action. But in his dreams, he was a sex maniac doing ungodly things.

He'd gone to counsel about his dreams and had been told they were only dreams and that the flesh was fighting the devil inside of him when he was asleep, but as long as he didn't act on it while he was conscious, he would be absolved. It also turned out that other men of the cloth who remained celibate were afflicted with the same type of dreams. Though, Harry knew that his were of a particular caliber, and quite taboo so he never told the clergy of the details.

But now here he sat in Mrs. Brockton's home with her husband gone and she was wearing something that rose up her thigh as she sat. Harry did his best not to notice how pretty she was or how good she smelled. His belly was full of her delicious cooking and now, on his second glass of wine, he began to feel that familiar buzz and he was getting loose. Comfortable.

Mrs. Brockton moved to sit directly next to Harry on the couch and put her hand on his knee. She'd seen how he was looking at her. And once again, her intentions were not pure. She knew Harry was a virgin. She wondered what he looked like under all the clothes he wore. He was slim and tall and seemed to be particularly buff in his chest region with a nice tight ass. She wanted a piece of him.

Harry closed his eyes when he felt Natalie's hand on his thigh, but she acted as if it was nothing while Harry was reeling inside, being the touch-starved virgin he was.

"So, that was the gist of the play we went to. I really think it would have been better if they'd cast Ramuel as Moses instead of Carter. I think Carter did a great job, but he's too young, don't you think?"

Harry was barely listening. He was just trying to work on keeping his boner down. Mrs. Brockton was beautiful and Harry was easy to rile up so her hand on his thigh was sending him. Harry didn’t normally put himself into precarious situations like this for a reason. He wasn’t sure how strong he actually was. He’d been wise all these years to stay away from circumstances that put him alone with someone he felt attracted to. But now, he was here with Mrs. Brockton and she was coming on to him, or so it seemed. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to resist her for much longer when his mind started to wander with all the possibilities.

Suddenly he stood up, "I should leave, Natalie. Thank you for the meal and I hope my advice was good."

Natalie stood quickly and grasped Harry's wrist, "Please. Finish your wine first, Harry. It's a really good bottle, expensive, and I would hate to dump the rest. I can't finish the bottle on my own," she stepped in closer looking up at the handsome man, hoping she could persuade him.

Harry sighed and nodded. He could finish his glass of wine as a way to be polite. But he really wanted to leave because he was already thickening in his pants, his imagination was taking him down the dark road toward his lustful, forbidden fantasies.

"Okay. I'll stay and finish my glass. I do need to use the bathroom, however."

The bathroom was in the hallway near the two bedrooms. Harry closed the door behind him and turned the faucet on to drown out the noise of what he was about to do.

He felt he had no choice. He couldn't be sitting in Mrs. Brockton's living room with an erection so he needed to take care of it. It wouldn't have been proper to be around her in the state he was in.

"Father forgive me..." Harry whispered under his breath as he pulled himself out of his pants and spit into his palm. He stroked himself gently and swiped over his tip before spitting down onto his penis again for better glide.

Harry kept one hand on the counter to brace himself as he held his cock in the other. His pants fell to the floor after a couple of minutes of pumping himself and the belt smacked into the tile with a clank.

He was nearly there, almost done when he heard a knock at the door then Natalie’s voice, "Are you okay, Harry? I heard something..." and then suddenly the door was opening, despite Harry having been sure he'd locked it.

Natalie stood in silence as she looked down at Harry's large, swollen cock with his fist wrapped around it. She knew that he had big hands for a reason - the better to hold that large thing with. She stepped in as Harry tried covering himself but it had been too late. She'd seen what he was doing.

"I'm so sorry, Natalie, I was..." but his words were cut off when she lowered her hand to him and put her palm over the stiff cock, and wrapped her fist as much as she could, around him.

"Don't be sorry. Please, Harry..." she dropped to her knees and kept her hand on his shaft as she looked up at him. Her free hand smoothed up his thigh, where she saw a forbidden tattoo. His thighs were well-muscled and thick. She moved her fist over Harry and looked back up at him.

"Please. Let me help. You need relief, Father," and with her eyes on his, she kissed the side of his thick shaft and Harry groaned and closed his eyes. He had been so close to orgasm and now he was suddenly caught in the haze of lust and sin. He knew it would be easy to just let her finish him off.

He was powerless to stop what was happening. It was a dream he'd had for so long to have someone sucking him off. His flesh won out at that moment. He’d never had that kind of opportunity present itself before and he was surprised by how quickly he gave in once her hand was on him. But it felt so good. Better than he realized it would.

And Natalie's mouth was soft and warm and wet and Harry came so fast - as he always did because he was hard up. She slurped his cock and drank him down when he came with a moan and he pressed the back of her head down over him on instinct.

Harry tried apologizing again. He dressed in haste but Natalie assured him he had nothing to worry about with her. He'd only need to ask forgiveness from God but his secret was safe with her as long as her secret was safe with him.

And this led to other, more intimate encounters with Mrs. Brockton. She and Harry had begun a small affair. She took his virginity and taught him how to eat, as she called it. Harry had deep guilt about what he'd done with a married member of his congregation but she seemed to love it. She would even beg him at times. He had a hard time resisting her once he’d gotten a taste.

Soon, Harry learned that he was quite dominant when it came to sex. Mrs. Brockton loved all of it. He'd fuck her in the rectory and the confessional, but usually, it happened in the privacy of his parsonage. He would gag her and bind her to keep her quiet and then have her tied down and spread out so he could fuck her in any way she could take it. Harry particularly got a taste for anal. Natalie had never had her bum fucked before Harry but he was slowly turning into a man who craved and fantasized about sex all the time and he played out some of his unusual kinks with Natalie.

He issued her spankings with his hand and occasionally his flog, which he also used as his punishment for carnal, sinful thoughts, now it was used to whip Mrs. Brockton. He couldn't do it often, though, because Mr. Brockton would have taken note of course.

Eventually, though, Mrs. Brockton wasn't enough. Harry's appetite for the carnal was something unshakable. He'd been introduced to sex in the flesh and not just in his dreams, and now he couldn't have it often enough and with Natalie being married she wasn't available as he needed.

He'd find himself going into Chicago or Milwaukee and meeting women and men at bars. He began experimenting with what he liked and he really liked just about everything. He loved pain and he loved to issue pain. Part of it was because of the guilt he felt and the pain was a way to ask for forgiveness, but eventually, Harry stopped feeling too bad about wanting to have sex. And after a year of exploring, he felt like all the time he’d resisted temptation had been such a waste now that he knew what it was like. Harry was a sexual being but still held onto his spirituality.

He enjoyed being a priest but he also enjoyed being a man who loved to fuck. Loving God and fucking were quite equal in his eyes and now he would not ever be without either. But continuing in his priesthood in this way must change eventually. Harry began to come up with a plan that could have him being a spiritual leader who could also have deranged sex when he pleased.

It took some more years before Harry's plan started to come to fruition. He remained a priest in small-town Wisconsin while he enjoyed his flesh most nights of the week. Once, he had a young woman stay in his parsonage in a small cage, which she did so willingly. Harry would come and go as needed but when he'd return to his parsonage he'd bring his little pet out and fuck her dumb and then put her back in her cage.

Of course, she had a job and she had taken off only a week of work so she could be imprisoned and degraded by the hot priest. So that didn't last because she had responsibilities. But Harry wished it could have lasted forever. He thought how nice it would be to find someone that would want to be his willing captive to cage. To have someone he could keep as his submissive pet and do with as he pleased. He obviously wanted the person to also enjoy the scenario with him, he wasn't a monster. But now it was his goal. To find someone who could be his and whom he could do with as he pleased. A submissive who would never want to leave him.

He'd tried it with various people. At first, they liked it. Some wanted it more than he did. But it was a matter of finding the right one. Someone who he could connect with and feel engaged with and vice versa. He had a young man with him for a few weeks (which was the longest stretch he'd had one person as his pet) but eventually Harry came to realize that he needed something else. Someone else. The young man was lovely and might have been a great submissive companion for years to come, but it wasn't quite it. So he continued his search for the perfect person.

One Sunday during service, Harry caught the eye of a beautiful woman. He immediately imagined her waiting for him in his cage, tied up, blindfolded, red swollen stripes over her back and her thighs from the flog... Someone to keep forever. He tried to push the feelings down as much as he could while he was in the middle of his prayer but she was incredibly alluring.

Many times he did find appealing men and women but after speaking to them for a bit realized they wouldn't be quite fit for the job. It took a very particular kind of person to do the things Harry required. So he intended on meeting this beautiful woman and chatting with her. Typically, he could tell rather quickly if they could be a candidate or not. Normally people were not. Most of the time he settled for a good evening of sex instead when he would have much preferred to have found his companion.

But Harry was also alluring. In fact, once he began having sex regularly more and more people would recognize how attractive and persuasive the priest could be. His confidence increased immeasurably once he began having sex. His charm was undeniable. The man was irresistible to many. But of course, being a priest, most did not know the dark secrets he had. He kept his escapades quiet. Mrs. Brockton knew that he was kinky but they’d long ago stopped their tryst and he could trust her to not say a word to anyone.

The young woman who he spotted during his prayer was near the end of the aisle toward the front and to Harry, it appeared she was alone. The woman took note of how the attractive priest kept looking her way. His light green eyes lingering in her direction, the way at one point after a bit of a gaze he smiled shyly and looked down and she could swear she saw him blush. But of course, Harry was acting. He was putting on a show for her. To draw her in.

And it worked. When the service was over, everyone flocked to Harry as they so often did. The young woman lingered and waited for the crowd to thin before she approached the priest who looked like a god.

Harry saw her coming toward him from his peripheral. He knew she'd come to him. So when he turned to her he acted surprised and flattered that the new girl was coming to greet him.

And she ate up his act, combined with the underlying sensual nature of the way he would lean in to speak and his voice would drop so that only she could hear, the way he'd touch his lips "innocently", and the way his eyes took her in as she spoke, roaming her face and her neck as if to size her up. She felt like the only person in the world at that moment. But he was still very priestly, Godly, at the same time.

Harry decided to take his time with this one. He wanted to invite her over right away for a drink to feel her out but he wanted to play up the godly priest as much as he could. It would be a real test when it came time to learn what she liked. Would his being a priest deter her? If so, she wasn't the one. But, if it only drew her in more, if she was more intrigued by his godliness and still wanted to explore with him then she could be a good fit.

Harry had plans that evening to join a family at their home for dinner. The Sothebys were quite wealthy and Harry very much enjoyed being invited for dinner. They had the most lavish meals with the best wine and bourbon. Harry never drank much but he did enjoy a vintage cabernet sauvignon from time to time, or an aged, smooth bourbon on the rocks.

Tonight’s dinner had been a special occasion, according to Mrs. Sotheby. They had their niece with them to visit from out of town for a while. Harry was given a glass of a cab and directed to sit in the parlor with Mr. Sotheby and his son for a chit-chat while the ladies finished dinner. Harry truly did care for all members of the parish. He loved them and his empathy and kindness toward them were evident. Everyone trusted Harry and he was the best listener. It’s what made him so good at being a priest. Not only did he love God and knew the word well, he understood humans and empathized as a sinner himself. He loved listening to his members and giving advice. He enjoyed praying for them and with them. Despite Harry’s dark secret, his heart was big and he was loving.

When everyone was ushered into the dining room to eat, Harry sat in the spot he normally took closest to the window where the sun would oftentimes be shining in, but on this day, the sky was overcast and there was a cool breeze coming in from the North. Winter was on its way.

Harry had finished his glass of wine as Mrs. Sotheby brought in a tray with Beef Wellington surrounded by roasted vegetables. It looked delicious and Harry was hungry for Mrs. Sotheby’s cooking. And he just knew she must have used prime beef tenderloin in the Wellington because the Sotheby’s did not skimp on the quality of ingredients for all the years he’d been dining with them.

“Father, you’re low on wine. Here, let’s get that taken care of…” Mrs. Sotheby spoke as she turned toward the kitchen, “Y/n!! Please bring that bottle of Caymus with you, hon!”

Nearly fifteen seconds later she was there. Harry’s fantasy girl. He saw her enter the dining room with a bottle of wine in one hand and a bowl of bearnaise in the other.

She didn’t look at him immediately but he knew she was aware of him. She must have been. This dinner was made with him in mind, and it was also welcome for her visit.

Harry remained stoic as he watched her place the bowl down near the large serving platter and then she looked up to let her eyes land on the priest’s. She smiled and he watched her take a deep breath as she rounded the table toward him, “Here, Father… let me top you off,” her sweet voice could almost be tasted. Harry watched her move as she lifted the bottle and poured the red liquid into his glass. Her neck was slender and her jaw was soft and feminine. Her hair was pinned back on the sides, which was different than how she wore it a couple of hours earlier at mass. Harry noted the slight natural blush over her cheeks and he thanked her when she placed the bottle down on the table.

Harry was pleased when she sat next to him. She didn’t speak much but ate her food and smiled throughout. Harry noted she only had one glass of wine and that she seemed a tiny bit nervous. He wondered if he should address her nervousness with her in private or not. He was searching for any excuse to speak to her alone.

Dinner was amazing. Harry had his tummy full and two glasses of wine during dinner and then afterward a glass of bourbon on the rocks as he normally did. The men sat in the parlor once again to chat and wind down as the women cleaned up. But Harry didn’t like this setup anymore. He enjoyed chatting with Mr. Sotheby and his son, but he wanted to see Y/n and assist in clean up, like the gentleman that he was.

“I think I’d like to help clean up the kitchen with the ladies if you don’t mind, gentleman,” Harry spoke as he got up from the cushy seat.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Sotheby and Y/n were giggling about something and wrapping the food when Harry entered. Y/n quickly turned to see him and her eyes widened when she looked at Mrs. Sotheby. Both women stopped what they were doing and looked at one another with a secret in their eyes.

“Father, what can I help you with?” Mrs. Sotheby rang out as she continued her task.

Harry strode into the room casually with the confidence of a man who knew what he was doing, “I’m here to help, ladies. Felt wrong to let you two do all the clean up when you’ve also cooked everything and made this dinner possible. The least I can do is help out.”

Harry began to roll up his sleeves as he walked toward the sink, intent on washing some dishes and assisting in the best way he could.

“That’s really not necessary, Father. We love having you join us. I know you always insist on helping but truly, I’ve got Y/n here with me now and I think you should enjoy your conversation with Hank.”

Harry looked toward Y/n and she was wrapping up the vegetables with a small, shy smile on her face as she looked down. Adorable, he thought. He began to rinse the dishes in the sink and turned to look at Mrs. Sotheby, “I knew you’d say that. But I’d rather serve than sit.” Harry loved using corny sayings like that. His congregation ate it up and they always thought of Harry as someone who loved telling a good dad joke here and there. And he did. He enjoyed his dual life and cherished both of his sides.

When the dishes were done and the kitchen was clean, Harry finished off his glass of bourbon and prayed with the family before leaving. He had everyone stand together in a small circle and hold hands, being sure to stand near Y/n. Her fingers were cold in his large palm but he cupped her hand in his securely, occasionally loosening and then tightening around her fingers.

The prayer was a quick one but the feel of Harry’s hand around Y/n’s had her heart pounding. Harry’s work there was done. He’d eaten a good meal, had plenty to drink which would put him right to sleep, got to watch sweet Y/n blush and listen to her speak on various topics from time to time, and got her a bit flustered as well even though he hadn’t really done much. She seemed to fit his type quite perfectly.

He would have much preferred to have brought her to his bed to play with her at the end of the night, but he knew he needed to suss her out first. She was, after all, a niece of someone wealthy in the congregation and he couldn’t just go off and fuck her and then invite her to be his submissive companion. The work of getting the right one was a slow, arduous process that couldn’t be rushed. Especially when it came to someone that might be attending his services. He’d like her as a pet immediately but he could be patient to be precise in his actions.

The following week at mass Y/n was there again. Harry was happy to see her pretty face amongst the congregation and she kept her eyes on him as he spoke. Harry used his incredible self-control to not look her way as often as he wanted. And his self-control was certainly a thing he used in many circumstances. He was, after all, a man who’d abstained from sex for 30 years and who barely allowed himself to masturbate. But now, he’d been having sex for nearly three years and he no longer abstained from it or masturbation. But his self-control was still incredible and so not looking toward Y/n was not that difficult.

Harry had wanted to reach out to her during the week, an excuse to talk to her under the guise of giving her advice or counsel if she chose. But he stopped himself during the few moments of weakness in his mind. It also helped that he had a woman in his parsonage with him for a few days the week after meeting Y/n. So he wasn’t hard up, but he did think of Y/n every day, which was not his norm. The woman was meant to stay longer but Harry dismissed her Sunday morning before mass. They’d had their fun together, but Harry was not interested any longer. He was interested in Y/n now.

When service had come to an end, Y/n left quickly, which put a frown on Harry’s face. He spoke with his members and prayed with them as he always did and when he was invited to dinner with the Fortanels, he declined this time. He wanted to find Y/n and perhaps have a moment with her. He would never get anywhere with figuring out anything about her if he didn’t try to have contact with her.

So he did what any man would do who wanted to get to know a woman he was interested in, he called her. Not her directly, but he dialed the Sotheby’s number and asked to speak with Y/n when Mr. Sotheby answered the call, “Hi. It’s Father Harry here. I just wanted to see if I could speak with Y/n for a moment. I felt something in my heart that needed to be said to her today and I couldn’t find her after mass this afternoon.”

When Y/n spoke into the receiver Harry couldn’t stop his smile from taking over. He told her something he made up as his reason for the call and asked her if she’d like to join him the following evening for a small prayer group that he held on Mondays in his parsonage. Of course, Y/n was quick to say yes. She was intrigued by the handsome priest.

That evening, Harry didn’t have one of his regulars come over for a night in his bed as he normally would. He resorted to what many single people do, masturbation. He thought of Y/n’s smooth skin and her lips, her big round eyes, and her shy demeanor. On the very surface she seemed like a good candidate, but how could he know if she truly would fit into Harry’s world the way he wanted until he got to know her better?

Before the prayer meeting, where there would only be three others in attendance, Harry set up his room, put away his flog and ties, covered the cage, and locked his bedroom door for good measure. Then he set up the living space where everyone would sit, knowing that two of those coming were a couple and would sit next to one another, which meant Y/n would inevitably be sitting next to Harry. He readied coffee and pulled out two bottles of wine and lit a candle. It was his typical setup. Harry’s home was very plain. He didn’t have many things to clutter the space. Only a few pictures of his family from London and one or two knick-knacks that had been given to him over the years. His wooden floors had a large carpet covering the center and the furniture he used had been there when he moved in.

Y/n arrived first. Harry had a feeling she would. She was shy and smiley and polite off the bat. Harry ushered her in and gently put his hand on her low back, just the slightest touch. He didn’t want to seem like a creep. But with the way she blushed, he knew she liked it. She accepted a glass of wine and sat in one of the chairs Harry had put in the circle.

“Is there anything you’d like to speak with me about one-on-one before the other two arrive, Y/n?” Harry tilted his head and looked at the young woman with his own glass of wine in hand as he sat next to her.

“Oh, well, I think I would like to talk about something. Um…” but before she could continue there was a knock at the door to indicate the others had arrived. Harry gave her a disappointed look, “Stay after the meeting with me and we can talk about it then,” he spoke as he got up to open the door for the new arrivals.

Everyone had their fill of coffee and wine during the hour-long prayer meeting. Half of the time was taken up by Arthur speaking about his concern for the state of the world. Usually, the prayer meetings would include discussion and then prayer based on what was discussed, this time was the same. Y/n barely spoke but Harry could sense her eyes on him for most of the meeting. They sat next to one another in the small little circle and when they ended with prayer Harry took her hand in his and like the time before when he’d held her hand in prayer, he loosened and tightened his grip around her hand slowly, like a comforting squeeze. But when Y/n suddenly squeezed his hand back Harry smiled to himself as he continued speaking his prayer. Her squeeze was not subtle, and neither was the way she used her thumb to gently drag it along the inside of his palm.

When the couple left, finally, Harry and Y/n sat back in their respective spots next to one another and Harry prompted her to continue where she left off earlier.

Y/n’s cheeks were wine flushed, but she was not drunk, just cozy and warm. She licked her lips and sat up straight as if she was called on in school to answer the question in front of the class. She wiggled her bottom in her seat and cleared her throat, “I have been thinking of going to confession but I haven’t made it yet because it’s so hard to admit sometimes when I’m in sin. I’m here with my aunt and uncle because of things I did back home. Things I was interested in and it’s awful and embarrassing but I’m hoping here I can become new again and move on from my old ways.”

Harry rolled his lips into his mouth and squinted at Y/n as she spoke. He didn’t know of her past, “Tell me, dear. What have you done? You can skip going to the confessional if you do it here with me. It’s the same really. I’d be the one listening to your sins anyway. I won’t judge you. That’s not for me to do.

He was very curious as to what she’d done that led her to move in with her aunt and uncle temporarily and get away from her hometown. She was an adult who could have made her own choices and gone to any town, but she chose to come here to get away from whatever it was she’d done.

Y/n laughed and looked at her lap where her hands were clasped together before she lifted her head to put her gaze on the priest, “Sexual sin. I’ve had sex and I know I should wait for marriage, but it’s so hard because it feels so good. It feels like God wants us to have sex often, he made us to enjoy it, right? And that’s my problem. I just like it and I don’t feel as guilty about it as I should,” she looked back down and bit her lip. Her cheeks were especially pink now. From embarrassment or shame.

Harry was very interested. The girl was into sex and admittedly so. But who wasn’t really? Most of his congregation came to him for sins of lust when it came time to confess. There were hardly any virgins amongst his members, not even the ones who were single and publicly claimed to be.

“Your feelings are normal, dear. Sex is a very important part of how we express love and pleasure and it’s hard to deny ourselves of the flesh at times. We are all guilty of the sin of lust. Most humans are not free of that burden,” Harry kept his eyes on the girl and watched as she shook her head. She turned to look up at Harry again.

“Well, yes, Father. That’s true. But my problem is deeper I think. It’s not just the sin of lust and premarital sex, it’s sexual deviancy,” she whispered the word deviancy like it was a bad word, “I like things most people do not and it’s frowned upon, especially as a Christian. It’s part of why I moved here. I was found out,” she wrung her hands together in her lap and closed her eyes and sighed before she opened them back up to continue, “I was caught with a married man. He’d left me tied to his bed thinking his wife was going to be gone for the day. But she returned while I was there on her bed and now I’m here. Trying to be better.”

Harry was silent. He didn’t know how to respond to this beautiful young woman admitting to him the things she just had. And so openly. He wanted to ask her more about what she liked but felt that would be too much too soon. Inappropriate in fact. But he was bursting to know.

“I see. Look, we all have things that are hidden and dark. We do our best to deal with them in the kindest way we can in this life. The best thing you can do is to be kind to yourself. Don’t doubt you’re a wonderful person just because you have a preference for certain things,” Harry put his hand on her shoulder to emphasize his words. And he meant them. He always felt humans were too hard on themselves when it came to sins of lust and sex. He obviously had a soft spot for those who had lustful sin.

He watched Y/n as she leaned her head to the side toward where Harry’s hand was placed on her shoulder. She closed her eyes and stretched her neck toward his hand but then opened her eyes and looked at the priest, “Thank you, Father. That makes me feel so much better. It’s worse really, than just what I said but I’m too embarrassed to tell you more. I’m sure you’d cast me out like the devil if you knew,” she laughed and smiled at the man. His clear, bright eyes were on hers intently and they were beautiful. His smile revealed dimples on his cheeks and the bit of scruff on his face was so attractive that Y/n forced herself to not imagine what it would feel like being scraped against her face, or in between her thighs.

Harry noted how her gaze lingered on his. The way she looked at his mouth and how she looked desperate a little. The poor thing was probably trying to be good but deep down she just wanted to be bad. But to Harry, she was beginning to fill in all the little boxes he needed to have checked in order to find the right one. He couldn’t know for sure just yet, but he’d continue to find out more about her and make a determination soon. He just needed more time. He wanted to do this right.

Before she left they had agreed upon a schedule for Harry to counsel her and pray with her for her sins. They’d meet together every other day in his parsonage for as long as she needed. Which was just perfect for Harry. He’d get to look at the cute thing as she confessed her dark deeds to him and he’d lead her in prayer and with guidance. And Harry knew she found him attractive. Most people did really, but with Y/n, it excited him in a way he hadn’t been excited about in a long time.

At their first one-on-one meeting, Y/n had withdrawn a bit into herself. She seemed down and gave the priest very little information like she had the first night after their prayer meeting. He wondered if the wine had been a factor in the way she so honestly expressed herself that night. He’d need to work on that with her. Relying on alcohol as a way to feel more expressive and comfortable was worse to Harry than it was to have sex outside of marriage.

He still gave her gentle advice, prayed with her, and kissed her forehead before she left. He could tell she was struggling. But he could see how she was looking at him when he’d speak, how she kept crossing her legs and would squeeze her thighs tightly together, her flushed cheeks, and that was all he needed to know that she was aching for relief. Perhaps she was so overwhelmed with need and lust that she was pushing herself to close up. Which was probably a normal reaction. Harry had gone through the same when he first fought with himself to stop his sudden need to have sex. He would be patient with her.

In their following meeting, Harry was armed with a bit more information. After she left their one-on-one meeting he decided to search for her on social media. She had a pretty decent presence online. She was popular, had a lot of friends back home, and seemed like a normal young woman as far as he could tell. But then the further he dug he found some people who had mentioned her in their posts. Particularly one woman who seemed to greatly dislike her.

He came to find out that the man that Y/n had been caught with was this woman’s husband. She dragged Y/n and exposed her secrets in detail online. According to the woman, her husband had been seduced, and then he tied her to the bed as he left to go get help which is when the wife arrived home, as the man was out “getting help”. He learned that Y/n was completely naked in their bed where she was tied at the wrists and ankles. She had marks over her thighs, her stomach, and her back, likely from being spanked, but the wife posed that Y/n had done it to herself as a way to make everyone feel sorry for her.

This said a few things to Harry. First, was that he believed Y/n and that when she said she’d been seeing the man it was likely not the first time they’d been together, nor the first time she’d been tied to his bed and spanked. And with the man having gone to “get help” it was more likely part of their play and he was leaving her as punishment. Y/n liked to be punished.

Harry was thankful for social media but he was also angry that her secrets had been exposed in such a heartless way. Of course, the woman thought that her husband was totally innocent, but that’s Christian society for you in a nutshell, putting all the blame on the woman and absolving the man. Harry tried to lead his congregation in a way that allowed for empathy and love no matter what. He would have been pissed at any of his followers if they had ousted a fellow member in this way.

Y/n was quiet at first when she arrived at their second one-on-one meeting. But her face looked brighter this time and she seemed to be more talkative after a little bit of Harry nudging her in the right direction. He wouldn’t tell her about what he knew. He hoped that she’d tell him in her own time, though. And she did. Not at that meeting but the following week she’d poured her soul out to him.

Of course, it didn’t just happen that she handed the priest all of this information out of the blue. The lead-up during their meetings had given her the boost she needed to tell him of all her sins.

There were a lot of longing gazes from Y/n’s end and Harry would give her soft touches and sly grins. Harry would allow himself to work his eyes down over her face and to her neck as she spoke, purposely letting her see how he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He’d rub her shoulders and speak quietly into her ear even though it was just the two of them in the living area of his parsonage. He admitted to her how he would sometimes wake from dreams of feeling lust and the need to repent himself. He brought up his flog even to see her reaction and react she did.

When he described to her how some mornings he’d wake from a sexual dream he’d flog himself to calm his nerves and he watched as her breathing picked up. She watched his lips as he spoke and he’d often catch her drifting her gaze downward towards his lap. He knew she wanted more from him but she’d never attempt it with the holy priest. Which was precisely what he hoped. He needed her to first see him as a leader and a holy man. He’d soon reveal his other persona when the time was right. If it was ever right.

So, on the day that she finally broke down and told him all of her sins it was like a weight was lifted from her. She paused between breaths and composed herself as she spoke but she got everything out and Harry couldn’t have been more enamored. She was perfect.

“I was accused of seducing that man, Tom, and then his excuse for tying me there was to stop me from tempting him while he went to get help. Which is ridiculous because look at me, I’m no match for any grown man. He didn’t need help,” she sighed and laughed in a scoff, “You see, he’d left me there so he could go run an errand. We had a thing where he’d tie me up and leave me after punishment, like spanking me and smacking me, and well, anyway… I like that sort of thing. I like being punished and worse really. It’s embarrassing when I’m speaking to you like this but I feel good to be able to say it out loud.”

She continued and Harry watched her as he took his forefinger and lightly rubbed it over his lips, up and down. He purposely gazed at her and allowed his features to soften over her face and she noticed the way he was looking at her. She would pause frequently when she took note of the look of hunger on his face but would shake her head as if to tell herself to snap out of it.

“He told everyone that I’d beat myself. My bottom, my back, thighs, everything. But he did it. No one believed me. It’s crazy that he tied me to his bed while I was naked with large handprints all over my body and a tie over my eyes so I couldn’t see and yet, people thought he not only didn’t put his hands on me but that he tied me to the bed with my legs spread apart with his sperm literally dripping from me in order to go get help,” her laugh was unamused. “They all believed him. They thought I beat myself and stripped nude and masturbated in his bed and that he had to tie me down with my legs open and put something on my eyes as a way to restrain me.”

But she didn’t stop her confession, “And I’ve done that before with others too. I like it. Being captive, being punished. I don’t know why I like it; I just do. Makes me feel so vulnerable and needed. Like I’m so wanted that they keep me tied down so I can’t leave. I know I shouldn’t like that or want something like that. It’s awful. It probably sounds like I’m completely deranged. I guess I am a little. But I do feel better after talking with you this past week. You’ve helped me a lot Father, and I’m glad I met you.”

Harry was willing away his erection. He’d abstained from having sex since he’d started these little sessions with Y/n. Not from masturbating, but from sex with others. And he was feeling excited at her full confession. She could be just what he needed. He could be just what she needed.

“Thank you for being so honest and open with me, Y/n. This is a step in the right direction. What we say to one another here will remain between just us. Won’t it?” Harry lifted his brows as he moved her hair from off her shoulder to behind her ear. She stiffened at his touch and her mouth parted for a moment before she nodded at the priest.

“Good. We are all sinners, dear. There’s not one of us better than the other,” Harry kept his voice low as he spoke.

Y/n smiled and spoke, “Well, except you, Father. You’re a holy man and better than anyone I’ve ever met. I can just feel it all around. You exude love and compassion. You listen so closely to everyone and you remember everything about them. You’re such a good soul with a wonderful heart. I can only hope to be like you one day.”

Harry nodded with a grin, “You are like me already, Y/n. You don’t know everything about me. I’m a human man. I am still a sinner and that’s what makes me so compassionate toward others. Because we are all in this world struggling to do what is right. Some of us have a worse time with sin than others. Sometimes you might be surprised at what kinds of sin a priest might have hidden.” Harry watched her face closely. Her gaze on him still indicated longing and need. She was very attracted to him, and Harry knew it. He could have probably taken her then to his bedroom and done very awful and wonderful things to her and made her his at last. But he refrained. He had to follow his plan accordingly. She was so close to being a perfect fit for him. He just needed to be sure she was the one.

The day of the following meeting was chilly and windy and cold. A winter storm seemed to be coming in and Harry had considered telling Y/n to stay home but before he had the chance to call the Sotheby’s she was already at his door, bundled up in her winter coat with a scarf around her neck and a wool cap on her head. Her nose was red and she wasn’t wearing gloves. Harry pulled her in and the wind from outside wafted into his warm parsonage. Harry hadn’t prepared for her quite yet, as it was about an hour before she was due to arrive. He had a few things strewn about, nothing crazy but he always liked to tidy before he had guests.

He closed the door behind her and stood in front of her to begin unwrapping her scarf from her neck in silence. She looked up at him with her big, sweet eyes and Harry looked down at her while he pulled the scarf off, a grin on his face. She just stood and smiled back up at him as he undid her coat, and pulled it off her shoulders, hanging it by the door on the coat hook. She stayed quiet watching him. He found it a little odd but he didn’t mind the new interaction. It’s how he’d want to treat her if she were his. He’d help her undress and take care of her. She liked it too he could tell.

Harry looked down to see she hadn’t worn gloves so he took her hands into his and rubbed over them before putting his mouth to his hands cupped around hers and blew warm air over her fingers. She sighed and smiled up at him. That smile was going to kill him. He repeated blowing warm air over her hands a few times until his lips met her fingertips and he pressed the tiniest kiss to the pads of the fingers under his mouth then he laughed a breath through his nose and plucked the wool cap from her head, “There you go. Feel better? Want me to make you some tea?”

Harry saw it written all over her face. She didn’t want tea, or anything to drink. She didn’t want him to be nice to her. She wanted something she was too scared to ask for but she smiled and nodded because of her naturally submissive manner, “Yeah. Hot tea could be nice, Father.”

Harry smirked down at the lovely girl and smoothed her hair a bit. It had gotten staticky from the way he’d pulled the cap from her head. She laughed shyly when she realized what he was doing and then she followed him to his kitchen.

When they passed into the kitchen Harry realized he hadn’t closed the door to his bedroom since he hadn’t been prepared for her yet. There wasn’t anything too revealing lying out, except his flog at the end of the bed, but he wasn’t sure if she’d seen it or not.

He made tea and they sat in the little kitchen together and made small talk.

“You arrived early. I hadn’t expected you to come yet,” Harry said as he looked down at his mug and then back up at the beautiful young woman.

Y/n nodded, “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to miss the chance of coming by for a bit. The weather channel made it seem like the storm would be very bad and I wondered if I waited too long I might not have been able to come here at all. Sorry.”

Harry reached a hand out to place over Y/n’s and tsk’d at her, “Don’t be sorry, dear. I’m happy you came. I was going to call you and cancel because it does look like a bad one coming. It’s already started to snow,” he looked over her shoulder and out the window where white snow was blowing wild in the air with the wind.

One tea turned into two and then Y/n asked Harry if they could pray together, “I’m feeling very particular today. It’s a hard day for me. I’ve been trying to keep my thoughts on God and do what I know is right but I can’t seem to get it straight in my mind. My sinful thoughts are very strong today.”

“That’s good that you told me. We all have hard days. It’s better to be honest about everything than it is to hide it. Hiding it only makes the longing worse,” Harry wanted to stop the façade himself. His longing was getting worse as well. And now that she was here with him alone, the ominous storm approaching, and his neglected cock that he hadn’t had a chance to take care of before she arrived (another thing he hadn’t gotten to due to her early arrival, something he always took care of before she came), he wanted to take care of both of their needs, their longings.

“Is it a hard day for you, Father? I saw the flog on your bed when we passed your room. You told me before how you use it to atone for your sinful thoughts,” she bit her lip after asking and looked at him with round eyes.

Harry nodded with a smile, “You saw that then. Yes. Today is a hard day. And every day before this one as well,” was all he gave her.

Harry took her hands in his and they prayed, bowing their heads over the small table. And like every other time they held hands in prayer, they gently touched and squeezed at the other, a silent bid for something more that had gone unspoken. But it was never quite enough for Y/n to believe it meant more than just a man being kind and loving.

When they released their hands Y/n felt lighter again. She loved it when Harry prayed. It was like he helped wipe her sins away with his words and encouragement. But she wondered if there was more that could be done.

“Father Harry?” She asked with his eyes already on hers. He nodded at her to continue, “Yes?”

She swallowed and looked out of the kitchen toward where his bedroom was, “What is it like to be whipped with the flog? Do you feel atoned when you’re done? Does it feel like the pain takes away your sins?”

Harry’s heartbeat was rapid. There was a definite shift in the way Y/n was today than she had been at any of the other meetings. It was very subtle but she was different today. Needy.

Harry clenched his jaw and looked over his shoulder toward his room and then back to Y/n, “Sometimes it does feel like it helps me repent. But other times it's part of the sin.”

Y/n was silent as she took his words in. She cocked her head to the side and squished her brows together in confusion, “Part of the sin? What does that mean?”

Harry took a deep breath and reached a hand out to take one of Y/n’s in his. He looked down at her hand with a faint smile on his face before looking back into her pretty eyes, “It means sometimes it has nothing to do with atonement or being repentant. Sometimes I enjoy the pain.”

Y/n watched as Harry grazed his thumb over her knuckles and spoke without looking back into Harry’s eyes, “Would you… maybe flog me? Show me what it feels like? Maybe it can help me feel better about my sinful nature.”

Harry looked out the window and he couldn’t see beyond the white flurries. The wind was harsh and he could hear the whistle of the gale as it forced its way into the cracks of the glass panes. He put his eyes back on Y/n and she was still looking down at where her hand was in his.

“That would require you to remove some clothes. I don’t know that you’d feel comfortable with that in front of me,” Harry was getting heated. He was imagining the way the whip would bite into her skin. Not too hard, but just enough that she could really feel it and it would leave a mark. Or two. Or three.

Y/n shot her eyes up to Harry’s and nodded, “I would be okay with that. Would you? 

Harry smiled, wider than he intended. This was exactly what he wanted. This was a step toward what he’d felt was necessary for his plan. She was asking him.

Her pupils were blown out in her eyes already, and her mouth parted. She wanted to be flogged but not to atone for her sins. She liked it and he knew she would. She also understood the probable implications of her request after she’d already admitted to him how much she enjoyed a bit of pain, spankings, and punishment. But she couldn’t help herself. And she could play it off as if she only meant to use it as a way to repent if he declined or called her out.

But Harry wouldn’t call her out. He would go along with her in this as long as she wanted. They could both easily play it off, yet they both would understand what was actually going on. It would be a way to ease into what was coming. Harry was quite pleased.

“Okay, my dear. If that is what you want. We’ll go to my room. I have a set up for you to hold onto while I flog your back for repentance.”

Y/n hadn’t expected Harry’s room to be livelier than the rest of the house. His bedroom revealed more of his personality than the rest of the parsonage did. The set-up Harry referred to was a bar hung from the ceiling with cuffs at each end. There was art hung on the walls, a bookshelf stuffed with books, a dresser with jars atop, and a lamp. His bed was large and looked comfortable. And of course, in the corner of the room was a large item covered with a sheet that went nearly to the ceiling and was probably eight feet wide and eight feet long.

“What is that, Father?” Y/n pointed toward the covered item in the corner and walked toward it.

Harry stopped her midway, “That’s just something I use for a hobby of mine. Let’s get to it shall we?” He redirected her away from the cage that had gone unused for longer than Harry liked.

Harry took the flog in his hand and turned to Y/n, “You’ll need to take your sweater and anything underneath off for this. You can face away from me so I don’t see anything if you’re more comfortable with that. And you can decide if you want your hands in the cuffs to restrain you, or if you’d just like to hold onto them. While you remove your sweater, I’m going to clean this,” and he left the room to sanitize the flog. He had used it on himself only that morning and even though he didn’t cut himself deep enough to bleed, he still found it necessary to clean before using it on Y/n.

Harry took his time to get into the smooth leather and wipe all around the parts with warm soapy water. Then he used alcohol wipes over the flog to finish it off. And before he entered the room he took a moment to breathe and calm himself. He was half hard in his pants with the images that ran through his brain. When he felt somewhat settled he returned to the room to see Y/n with her hand over her breasts facing him.

Harry couldn’t help himself from trailing his eyes down her frame and over her skin and to the swell of her soft breasts which she’d hidden only partly from his view. When he looked back at her face he realized she looked happy and excited even. He swallowed heavily as he walked toward her.

“Wrists in the cuffs or just holding onto them?” He asked her as he put the flog down on his bed.

“I’d like them inside the cuffs. Please,” she smiled and Harry nodded. He had a feeling she’d want to be properly restrained.

Harry closed his eyes at the, please. He was going to have to restrain himself from ravishing her. Because he knew she wanted that. He knew she’d beg him and want whatever he gave her. He swallowed again before walking toward her where she stood near the bar.

“I won’t look, but I have to assist you in putting your wrists in here. Lift up.”

Y/n removed her palms from over her breasts and raised them toward the bar. Harry concentrated on not looking down as he secured her wrists in place. Self-control was something he was not rivaled in. As much as he desired to look down over her skin and peek at her nipples and soft breasts his will to control himself was stronger. He had a presence to maintain.

“Father, why do you have this in your bedroom if you are unable to use it without assistance?” Y/n’s voice was small and cautious. She didn’t want to overstep any boundaries but she was too curious to not ask. Harry knew she would.

Harry smirked and looked at her in the eyes, doing well to not drop his gaze to her tits, “For just this very purpose, Y/n. Sometimes others request a flogging too. I help them.”

Both of Y/n’s wrists were secured in the cuffs after Harry’s careful adjustments of the Velcro. She was bare on the top, wearing only jeans on her bottom half. Harry slowly walked behind Y/n and picked up the flog from his bed. The flog he used was black and thin with a single leather strip, knotted at the end. The handle was braided leather, perfect for gripping onto.

Her back was smooth and clear. So pretty, it was almost a shame that she wanted it marked up. Almost. Harry gulped down his saliva and before he could begin he stepped in close to Y/n and stood behind her, craning his neck down to speak near to her ear.

“This will hurt a bit. I won’t break the skin but it’s going to bruise and feel very tender. Tell me to stop if it’s too much for you,” he could smell her shampoo from this proximity. She turned her head to the side towards his face and nodded. He could tell her breathing had deepened. He gently swept her hair from her back and pushed it over her shoulder to the front so that her back was unobstructed. He kept close to her, looking down at her neck as he did so, his fingers ghosting over her neck.

Harry stepped back and looked up at the ceiling, “Speak with me a prayer of forgiveness, Y/n,” he closed his eyes and waited a moment before beginning, “Lord God, please look at my sins and mistakes with a merciful eye and forgive me.”

Y/n repeated the words and Harry landed the flog onto her back for the first time, a strike that caused her to inhale a sharp gasp and squeeze her eyes closed. It shocked her system and her body jolted forward. She gasped for air as soon as the sensation dulled on her flesh and turned into a hot sting across her back.

Harry continued, “I confess to you Almighty God that I have sinned.”

Y/n spoke the words and braced herself for the next stripe to her back. It came from the opposite shoulder this time, and downward toward her spine. She grunted and fell forward, her nails digging into her palms, as she endured her second hit.

“My mortal sin is that of lust. My flesh has been weak and I have given in to temptation.”

Her words were spoken in a softer voice, but still clear and with determination. Harry smiled as he issued her another strike. Once again, Y/n was swung forward, her head dropping downward and she gasped in a small yelp, clenching her jaw when the new lash crossed the middle of her back.

Harry watched as her smooth skin turned red, a raised welt left in the path of the leather. As promised, he did not break the skin, but it was tender and it was going to be sore.

“For this sin and all sins that I have committed in my life, I am seeking repentance.”

Y/n’s voice came out shaky. Harry watched as her arms quivered as she tried holding herself up. It had only been three strikes and she was already quite fatigued; he could tell. Harry repeated raising the flog and bringing it down in a quick motion over the center of her back near her spine.

This time Y/n crossed her legs together and gasped in a breathy pitch as she put most of her weight on her arms and wobbled forward slightly. Harry couldn’t see her breasts but he knew the sight would have been glorious.

Harry wondered if it was too much. He watched her body for a moment as she regained her composure, “Y/n, are you okay? Do you want to stop?”

She was quick to shake her head, “No, Father. Let’s finish the prayer. Please. I need it.”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath. There it was again, the, please. He enjoyed this. He imagined how it felt on her skin, he knew the sting and burn well. He could almost taste it in his mouth, the pain of the lashings. And it was a good taste. He bit down and clenched his jaw in satisfaction with the moment.

“Count these stripes as my penance, oh Lord God, you who are all good and deserving of my love and devotion.”

It took a moment for Y/n to repeat the words but when she did Harry realized it then. It was in her breathy voice, the way her back was arched and ready for the next hit, and how she crossed her legs with the last lashing, still squeezed together, thighs clenched.

With a smile, Harry brought the leather down onto her flesh again and to his delight, the sound that left Y/n’s mouth was a moan. A sound typically dedicated to the result of something pleasurable happening.

“I resolve with the help of your grace to keep my eyes on you, Holy Father. Amen.”

Harry listened to the way Y/n spoke her words in a slow breathy voice. Her neck was draped downward and her arm muscles were straining against her weight. She was enjoying this. Perhaps in the same way Harry did.

The sixth and final lash on her back drew a louder moan out of her mouth. After she shifted forward she lulled her head to the side and Harry could see her mouth was open. Her breaths were labored, heavy.

Harry put the flog down and stood behind Y/n, gently placing his hands on the back of her ribs, “Y/n, no more lashings. Now listen to my words of forgiveness and then you’ll say for his mercy endures forever.”

She nodded and hummed and pushed herself up to stand fully on her feet. Harry kept his hands lightly on her back and looked down at her neck, as he spoke his absolution in a voice barely above a whisper, “Give thanks to the Lord for he is good.”

“For his mercy endures forever,” her voice was surer now, still breathy but less shaky.

Harry was tempted to dip his mouth down onto the curve of her neck and press his lips on the small freckle that he saw under her jaw. She still had her neck bared to him, her head hung to the side and Harry wondered if she was doing it on purpose, exposing her neck to him. Offering herself to him in a way. He would need her to verbalize it if so.

Harry leaned down, his hands ghosting down her sides as he put his face closer to her neck but he didn’t allow his lips to touch her skin, “You did very good, Y/n. I’m going to release you now.”

Harry removed each wrist and stayed in his spot behind her. He remained close and Y/n made no attempt to move from her spot. She turned her head to the side and Harry could see her profile, blinking, a smile on her face. If she turned further she’d be able to see his face but there was the chance that her breasts would be in view.

“Thank you, Father,” Y/n spoke in a soft whisper as she lifted her hands to cover her breasts and turned her head to look at him from over her shoulder.

Harry didn’t move from his spot as he looked over her face slowly. He didn’t let his gaze drop below her shoulders. She wasn’t his to ogle. Not yet anyway. But he could recognize that she was beautiful. And perfect.

“Stay right here. I’m going to get something for your back,” Harry was quick to get what was needed for Y/n’s welts. A warm, damp cloth and some ointment.

When he came back into the room, Y/n was still standing exactly where he left her, “Lie down on the bed on your stomach and I’ll help you with this.”

Harry approached her as she arranged herself on his bed, tummy down. Harry was already anticipating the moment he could rinse her back and then rub the cream over her. He’d touched her gently while she was restrained, but now he would be permitted to put his hand into complete contact with her skin, to really touch her and take care of her wounds.

Y/n put her arms upward, elbows bent, and her face to the side so her cheek was down and she could see Harry behind her from the peripheral. He kneeled on the bed next to her and gently placed the warm rag over her back to soothe the burn, “Are you okay? How do you feel, Y/n?”

Y/n took a deep breath and closed her eyes when Harry began to blot the damp rag down her back, “I feel very good, Father,” her voice was still breathy and soft.

Harry hummed in response with a nod to himself as he continued gently dabbing the rage over her back. When it was time to put the ointment over her he rubbed it into his palms to warm it, as he noticed she had goosebumps over her flesh.

His wide palms slowly caressed her back and smoothed the cream over her sores. He watched as Y/n bit her lip, her eyes still closed. Harry smiled. He used both hands to knead gently down her spine and apply the ointment. It took longer than it should have but Harry enjoyed the way her skin felt under his hands. She was soft and open for him. So willing and sweet.

“You did very well, Y/n. I think this looks good,” he spoke with his palms still flat on her low back, “I’ll leave you to put your sweater on, I can tell you’re cold.”

Harry stood from the bed with the rag and the jar of cream when Y/n pushed herself up and turned her head, “Wait, Father. I need to confess one more thing.”

Harry stopped his motions and turned to see her. Her top half was still hidden, breasts down into the comforter below her. He ticked his chin downward to indicate for her to continue.

“I… really liked that. More than I should. I feel bad because it didn’t mean to me what it was meant to mean. It’s my sin. I can’t control it. I’m sorry, Father,” she looked down at her forearm that was holding her up and Harry could see how red and bitten her lips looked. The delicate thing. She was a lot like him. The flogging was both a penance and a guilty pleasure.

“I understand. I sometimes see it the same way, Y/n. Your pain still acts as penance. Even if you somehow enjoy it. We can talk about this when you’ve dressed. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, though,” Harry turned and left the room. He was nearly quivering at what had just happened. He was keyed up from not only flogging the beautiful young woman but all of her admissions to him about what she liked and what she felt was her sin. The girl couldn’t be more perfect for him.

Harry put on another pot of tea and took note of the storm outside. The snow had piled against the parsonage and the wind bellowed outside. It would be too dangerous for her to walk or be driven back to the Sotheby’s in this weather. A fact that he quietly delighted in.

Y/n stepped into the kitchen behind Harry and leaned against the counter to watch him with the tea setup. The two did not speak for a few moments, both lost in their own minds about the reality they were suddenly in. Y/n having been honest with the priest about her sins and the priest reeling over the similarities of their preferences.

Harry turned to look at the pretty girl standing next to him, “You will likely need to stay until the storm subsides,” he looked past Y/n out the window that was on the opposite wall, “perhaps even all night.”

She turned to look out the window and Harry saw a smile crawl onto her face. His own expression was similar, pleased, expectant.

They took tea in his living room and the only sounds that could be heard were the gale winds outside. Y/n looked at Harry, her eyes wide and curious. When Harry looked up at her after a sip of his hot tea he felt he could understand her without a word being spoken.

“Tell me what your thoughts are, Y/n,” he set the teacup down and leaned back into the couch, his hands in his lap.

Y/n breathed out a small laugh and looked down at her lap. She was on the same couch as Harry but separated by a cushion between them.

With her head down she began to speak, “I feel very happy with you, safe. I don’t feel judged or looked down upon,” she lifted her head to look up at the man, his light green eyes taking her in, listening intently as always.

Harry nodded and stayed silent. He wanted her to continue.

Y/n swallowed and fiddled with her fingers, “Thank you for that, Father,” she leaned forward and took a sip of her tea, before leaning back into the couch and cupping the mug into her hands to keep them warm.

She continued, “I’m sure you cannot relate to having lustful thoughts in your heart like me. But I do wonder, what are your sinful thoughts that you feel are so hard that you flog yourself to repent? You said today was a hard day for you.”

Harry let the side of his mouth quirk up in a smile as he looked down. She was a curious girl.

“I’m a man, Y/n. I have lustful thoughts in my heart as most humans do. God has created us to procreate and he made sex feel very good,” Harry was sure to emphasize the words feel very good, “for a reason. It’s in the worst of people and the holiest of us.”

There was a moment of quiet when the wind changed direction and Harry watched Y/n move on her cushion as she tucked a foot under her bottom and turned toward him, “What was hard for you today, Father? The sin you had to atone for.”

Harry’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and he took a breath, “Lust.”

Harry’s eyes were severe on Y/n’s and he watched her lips part softly and her eyes soften, “Really? I imagine it must be very hard being a priest with your vows and all. Have you ever had a relationship, Father?”

Harry flattened his lips and squinted at the girl. Before he could respond Y/n spoke quickly, “I’m sorry! You don't have to answer. I’m sometimes too curious for my own good and you’re so interesting to me. Don’t answer if it’s too much.”

Harry chuckled and sipped his tea, slowly placing it down on the table next to the couch before putting his eyes back on the pretty girl, “I have had relationships, yes. It isn’t against the priesthood per se. Not anymore. But my own vows of celibacy and dedication to God, it is against them. And yes. It’s very hard being a priest and feeling lust.”

“Celibacy. So… you’ve never…” Y/n closed her mouth and looked down at the floor for a moment. “That makes me feel very ashamed of what I’ve done and how I feel lately. I feel like I have not been honest with you, but now knowing this about you makes me feel even worse for the things I’ve imagined,” she looked down at her lap and shook her head.

Harry reached a hand out to cover hers, “Do not feel ashamed. I would not look at you differently no matter your confession to me because I’m a sinner just the same. And I haven’t followed my vows. I love God and I love being a priest, but I love other things as well. Those things are between me and God. He is my judge and he knows my heart.”

Harry knew Y/n wasn’t dumb. He knew he’d told her enough that she could piece things together on her own. And her expression revealed to him just as much. She nodded with a small smile at his words and looked down at his hand covering her.

Keeping her eyes on Harry’s, Y/n slowly brought her free hand down to Harry’s and then lifted his hand upward. She leaned down to press her lips to his knuckles and slowly kissed each one. Harry’s mouth dropped open as he watched her kiss his hand. Her soft lips on each of his knuckles were innocent but the way she looked up into his eyes as she did so was not.

Harry breathed out heavily at the contact and let her continue. She manipulated his hand so that his palm was facing upward and she kissed the center of his hand and up to his fingers. She placed small pecks to the pads of each finger and kept her eyes on his. The intimate gesture was more than just a kind act of reverence.

With his hand held in both of hers, she kept her lips over his fingers as she spoke to him, “I love your hands, Father,” she closed her eyes and continued kissing along his fingertips. Harry watched her in awe.

She kept her eyes closed and spoke again, “I dreamt of you last night, and it was the best dream,” her voice was a whisper, “it was sinful, dirty, and I didn’t want to wake from it. But I liked it,” she continued kissing his fingers. When her tongue gently swiped over the pad of his thumb Harry inhaled a sharp breath and then lifted his free hand and carded his fingers through her hair gently.

The moment she felt Harry’s hand in her hair she opened her eyes again to look at the priest and very cautiously, slowly kissed the tip of his thumb before parting her lips and sucking just the very tip into her mouth. When she saw that Harry was not opposed to this action, she took more of his thumb into her mouth, their eyes locked. Harry tilted his head and watched her, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his mouth dropped open, nostrils flaring.

Harry had no expectations of her doing anything like this, but he wasn’t too particularly surprised. He knew she had at least a small crush on him, he hoped it was more than just a small crush and he was not disappointed in the way she was responding to him.

“You’re a good girl, Y/n. We cannot help the way God has made us,” Harry’s voice came out a bit cinched and breathy. He was enjoying this display very much.

Y/n kept her eyes on Harry’s as she took his pointer finger into her mouth and did the same as she had with his thumb. Her mouth was warm and soft over Harry’s digits. This was clearly a sexual gesture and Harry would not stop her from continuing. He kept his eyes on hers and watched the lustful show of Y/n lips wrapped around his finger.

When she removed her mouth from his finger she spoke, “Can I… Please, Father, can I,” she got out of her seat, making Harry remove his hand from her hair, and she dropped onto her knees. Putting her hands on the priest’s knees she looked up at him from her kneeling position, “Father, I’ll do whatever you want. I just, please, let me revere you and you can do whatever you please to me. We can go to God together for our penance, to atone. Just let it be with me that you sin. I’ll take it on, a sacrifice to your goodness, Father. I’m not worthy of you, but I’m begging you to pity me, let me take your sins and your punishment. I’ll do it happily if you let me serve you.”

The moment suddenly changed with her vocalization of what she wanted. Harry grasped her chin and shook his head with a soft expression, “I don’t think you realize what you’re asking me, Y/n. I’m being very serious right now. That’s what you want? Do you know what it means to do what you say? I need to know what you think that means.”

Y/n let out the tiniest whimper at the feel of his hands on her jaw holding her face to look at him, “I… I want to give myself completely to you, I need it. Want it. So badly. But only if you are pleased with me. Only if you want me. But only me.”

Harry wasn’t sure she understood what she was asking. Typically when he took someone as his submissive there was an agreement in place already. He would seek out someone who was previously looking for that kind of arrangement. He felt it was in his best interest, and hers, to be upfront with her.

“I do things most priests would be appalled by, Y/n. My sexual appetite is something I keep very private and separate from my job. I have been searching for someone to keep. Someone who wants to be mine. Someone who will submit and comply at all times to me. A person who would be a willing companion for me. Submissive to me. To allow me to dominate,” Harry paused to monitor her expression. She nodded subtly her eyes still on his.

“Yes. It’s exactly what I want, Father. Anything you want is everything I want,” she spoke in a small voice and Harry smiled. Her answer was good. It was just what he was looking for.

Y/n grasped Harry’s forearm that held her jaw and pulled his hand upward to her mouth again. With her eyes on his and her knees still on the floor at his feet, she spoke in a whisper, “Please, Father,” as he sucked his middle finger into her mouth, her tongue flicking over the underside of his finger.

Harry had had enough. He dragged her upward to his lap where she climbed over him, her thighs straddling his. He pulled her into his body and pressed his mouth over hers once and for all. A kiss that had them moaning and desperate. Her lips on his felt soft and wanton. She trembled in his arms and on his lap as he licked over her tongue. He smoothed his hand up under her sweater and onto her back softly and she winced at the feel from the welts. He ghosted his hands over the raised skin and then lowered his mouth to her jaw and then down to her neck on the little freckle he’d seen earlier. He licked the spot and then sucked the tiniest bruise under her jaw and her gasp told him she enjoyed it.

Harry lowered his mouth down her neck and softly bit at the skin, then he stood up, holding onto her thighs, and walked her to his bedroom in haste where he placed her on his large, soft bed.

“Take the sweater off,” Harry commanded and watched her peel the fabric off of her body. She then moved to take her bra off and the moment her breasts were bare before him Harry groaned and crawled onto the bed next to her, pressing her down flat.

Harry latched his mouth to her breasts and slowly licked over the exposed skin, biting in tiny nips as he kissed down to underneath the flesh of her round tits. Y/n sucked in sharp breaths at the pinch of the bites he gave her and rubbed her thighs together when she moved her hand into his hair.

Harry moved his warm mouth down her body slowly, with generous use of his tongue.

Harry pushed himself up and placed his hands on both sides of her body, caging her ribs, “Roll over. Let me kiss your wounds.”

Y/n bit her lip and moved to her stomach and Harry’s soft touch on her back was followed by his wet lips kissing over the pink and raised skin from the flogging. He applied open-mouthed kisses down the length of each red stripe on her back and he noted how she wiggled her bum and rocked her hips. He smirked as he continued kissing over her shoulder blade, his hand gently caressing her sides.

When he’d finished on her back he sat up and held onto the back of her neck, keeping her head down. Her face was turned, cheek smushed into the comforter.

“You’ll be mine to dominate as long as you want to be my submissive pet. But only if you give me your full consent because I need you to enjoy this with me. I’ve been looking for a long time, Y/n,” Harry spoke softly and lowered his mouth to kiss at her shoulder before continuing, his hot breath falling over her skin as he whispered his words, “You’ll submit to me in every way, taking my punishments, and allow me to have you sexually, emotionally, and spiritually. How does that sound?” He continued a path of kisses over her shoulder and back as he waited for her to speak, his hand still at the back of her neck.

Y/n nodded with her lip quivering, “Yes. Please. I only expect to be taken care of, to be loved, and in return, I’ll take care of you in any way you like. It’s all I’ve wanted. To belong to someone. To give myself completely to someone that cherishes me. And I truly want to belong to you, Father. But only me. No one else.”

Harry sat up and pulled Y/n gently upward by her neck to face him. He could see tears in her eyes. She was getting emotional.

Harry let go of her neck and brought a hand up to wipe at the tear that had fallen under her eye with his thumb, “There, there, darling. You’re already so perfect for me. Beautiful and sweet. I don’t want anyone but you. You and I will be very compatible,” Harry kept his hand on her face, softly swiping his thumb over her cheek. Y/n closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. She was perfect.

“I just want to be yours, Father,” she said softly, her eyes still closed.

Harry softly pressed his mouth to the edge of hers and then kissed where her tears had fallen, “Then you shall be mine now.”

Part 2*

I know this one doesn’t have smut - but prepare yourself for part 2 - it’s dirty and sexy.

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[sweetlittlegingy]

Can't Breath Whenever You're Gone

✦ Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Better Man Universe

✦Pairing: Father Figure Jake x Single!Mom

✦Word Count: 5.2 k

✦Warnings: Ansty, Fluff, slight smut (Jake calls himself daddy once), pregnancy, deployment, sad Maty

✦A/n: I have tried to post this like 8 times, it better work. I'm sorry for the wait guys, I hope you like it! Lots of love - G

✦Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

The low ache in your back had become a constant; leaning down to pick up the second batch of laundry, the six-month belly just out of the way. Rising back up, one arm carrying the laundry, the other caressing your more than noticeable bump.

You feel a sharp kick, pressing your palm back into the spot, you can feel Little Miss move, pressing farther into your hand. A laugh falls from your lips, she wasn’t even here yet and she was stubborn just like her father.

The pregnancy came as a surprise, though you weren’t trying to avoid pregnancy, it still was a shock when you found out. The four pregnancy tests you’d taken, after being nauseous every morning for a week, proved that your family was about to grow by one.

The shock of it all, couldn’t stop the nerves from kicking in.

Your pregnancy with Mathew hadn’t been easy. Your nausea lasting the whole 40 weeks, making it hard for you to maintain a healthy weight. You ended up getting weekly IVs from the hospital and being up on two different nausea medications.

In the first trimester, this time nausea hit you hard and at all times of the day, the bathroom had become a second home, and Jake could barely handle it. Constantly at your side, holding your hair or rubbing your back. Mathew had been ecstatic when he found out, though the now six-and-a-half-year-old, had a hard time seeing you so sick.

Even having a conversation with your belly, telling the baby that they needed to be nice to you.

That was before you found out that you were having a girl, and thankfully the nausea had calmed after your fourteen-week mark, making your days actually enjoyable.

 You’d been able to find out the sex of your baby just before Jake deployed when you were twenty weeks, and you’d both been thankful he could be with you in person to hear.

He’d been overjoyed when you the doctor told you. The smile never left his face on the drive home. Telling you, now that you had one of each, the next one could be a surprise.

You’d smacked him and told him, you wanted to get through this one before even thinking about another. Jake had only given you a teasing smile and kissed your hand, resting it in his lap for the drive home.

That was a month ago now, and all three of you were missing him terribly. Right after you’d found out you were pregnant; Jake had taken to talking to your stomach nightly. You’d told him that the peanut was too small, but he hadn’t cared. Holding nightly conversations with them, ranging from stories about flying, to what had happened during his day.

You’re sure that Little Miss had gotten used to her daddy’s voice, because now without his nightly talks, she has taken to becoming very active during the night. Mathew was having quite the time with Jake being gone as well. The first week he had cried every night and though his tears had slowed, the month had been wearing on the little guy.

Thankfully school kept his mind busy during the day, and Lacey had promised to call if he got upset during the day.  Summer vacation was just around the corner for Maty and though he loved second grade, he was so excited about the year ahead. He was going full-time on base and Auntie Lacey, Bob’s wife, would be his teacher for third grade.

You were thankful for the relationship the two of you had developed over the last 2 years, she’d become one of your closest friends and was always there to help with Mathew.

When she found out that you were expecting and that the boys were getting deployed, she took up a permeant residence in your home. Taking over pick up and drop off completely, saying that your house was on her way to school anyway.

Your house was in fact a good bit out of her way, but you weren’t about to argue with the woman. Bob might have been quiet and shy in public, but his sweet, loving teacher of a wife, was anything but.

Lacey, like her third graders, was an endless ball of energy. She was the most positive person you’d ever met and extremely organized. But when she decided that something was going to happen, then it was happening. Her stubbornness rivaled that of Jakes. A fact that had you cackling, when the two of them bickered.

Placing the laundry away, you head back into the kitchen, looking for something to snack on before you start on dinner. Music streams out of the speaker on the counter, a playlist that you’d made after Jake threw you into the world that is 90’s country, on a trip to Texas. You’d fallen in love with the music, on a night out and always listened to it when Jake was gone.

You hum along to the beat of Brooks and Dunn, swaying your hips along to the music, hand resting on your bump. Little Miss takes to rolling around, clearly enjoying the music.

“You like that one sweetpea?” The song changes and she rolls again. “Your daddy’s gonna be pleased with your taste in music.”

You grab the strawberries out of the fridge, singing along to the music. Your mind wandering, sure that Jake and your little girl would have the exact relationship stated in the song.

“When she was three years old on her daddy's knee, he said you can be anything you want to be. She's a wild one, runnin' free.—”

The ringing of your phone cuts off your singing, Jake’s ringtone cutting through, and has you hurrying to pick it up. He rarely got to call you, the carrier was continuously going in and out of service, making it hard to talk.

You pick up the phone, lowering the volume of the music.

“Baby?”

“Hi, darlin’.” The sound of Jake's voice has you crying, your hormones working against you. The gasp that leaves your lips, alerts Jake of your crying. 

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Your hand comes up, brushing the tears from your eyes, doing your best to stop them.

“It’s just my hormones Jakey.” You pause, trying to settle the quiver in your voice. “We just miss you.”

A sad laugh falls from your lips, wedging the phone between your shoulder and ear, you move to sit down. Both of your hands rubbing your swollen bump, calming yourself and Little Miss. She’d noticed you crying, when you were slightly gasping for breath, no doubt disturbing her.

“I know sweets, I’ll be home soon.”

You knew that he couldn’t give you a return date, the both of you silently hoping that it would be before your due date. While it was months away, this last month had gone by fast, and though you hadn’t told Jake, you were worried.

“How is everything? How are my babies?” His voice sounds tired, and you wonder how long it’s been since he’d slept properly.

He’d told you before, that sleeping on the carrier calmed him, and being able to do what he loved made the uncomfortable bed worth it. Though something had changed, shortly after Mathew had started calling Jake daddy, deployments started causing Jake more stress than joy.

He'd told you that he missed the both of you. Missed seeing you and Maty every day, but you could tell that there was more behind it. You hadn’t wanted to push him, but you worried and with you pregnant, the worrying had increased ten-fold.

You relay what had been going on in the last couple of days, and Jake silently listens. Humming occasionally, just happy to hear your voice and feel closer to you.

“She’s been moving around a lot more this last week and I’ve blown up like a balloon.” You’d loved that you could carry your angels, but without Jake here to love on you, your self-esteem had plummeted.

“I look like a damn whale Jake.” The topic causes another onset of tears to converge in your waterline. “And I can’t stop crying.”

“Oh baby, no you are so fucking gorgeous.”

“You can’t even see me, Jacob!” You didn’t mean to snap at him, and before you can apologize, Jake is laughing at you.

“Don’t need to see you, to know how gorgeous you look.” Pure love in his voice and has your tears drying up quickly.

“How did I get so lucky with you Mr. Seresin?” His laugh breaks through the phone, loud enough that it echoes in your quiet living room.

“I’m just that good Mrs. Seresin.”

Though you hadn’t tied the knot yet, the title became one used often. The engagement ring resting on your hand catches the afternoon sunlight and a soft smile graces your lips. “I love you.” The hand creasing your belly receives a sudden push and you watch as Little Miss turns, her outline faint through your tank top.

“I love you too darlin’.” You can hear the smile in his voice and decide to put Jake on speaker.  Bringing the phone to your belly, you feel her move towards the sound as Jake tells you about his day.

“Darling, I think that someone is feeling left out of the conversation. I’ve got you resting on the belly and Little Miss is going crazy for her daddy.”

You hear the broken laugh crack through the phone and then you hear a soft sniffle.

“Hi baby girl, daddy misses you and your bubba so much.”

“Oh baby, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

You hadn’t even thought about how telling Jake that the babies missed him, would make him feel. Though he was soft and sweet in front of you, in comparison to how he was with others, it was a rare sight to see Jake cry.

“No sweetheart, I just hate not being there. She’s never gonna be this little again, and Maty is going to third grade. I feel like I’m missing everything.” The shutter that echoes through the phone, has tears welling up in your eyes.

 “I just never realized that it would hurt this much.”

You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your own tears not wanting Jake to feel even worse, and eventually, you both calm down.

Jake talks to your belly; you sit listening and enjoying the sound of his voice. If you close your eyes, it almost feels like he’s back home with you. Though your conversation is cut short, when you hear Bradley over the phone. Muffled voices ring over the phone, grunting and you swear you hear someone yell ouch, before Bradley’s voice yells out your name.

“Hi B, how are you?” You can’t help the laugh that breaks from you when you hear, Bradley telling Jake that he has to share. That he needed to check on his little sister and Jake could get over it. That thought is followed by the sound of a smack and Bradley whining over the phone.

“He’s mean with he’s not with you, Y/n. Control your husband.”

“He’s not my husband yet B.” You’re laughing at their antics, not having laughed this much since they left.

“No, he’s yours Y/n. No givebacks, his receipt clearly states non-returnable.”

The phone once again is dropped, and then you hear a door slammed. You were happy that they had each other, and knowing that they were together lessened your anxiety. They might fight like siblings, but they’d developed an unbreakable bond over the years.

It’s Jake's voice that comes across the phone once again, “I’ve gotta go, baby.”

The both of you are quiet for a moment longer, the lightheartedness of Bradley showing up suddenly gone.

“I don’t know when I’ll get to call you again sweetheart.”

Your heart slightly cracks, and the reality of your current situation sets in. Jake was in the middle of the ocean and not just for drills, but for an actual mission that could end horribly.

“I know.” You hate the way your voice cracks, hate that you are inevitably making Jake feel worse.

“Given Mathew a kiss for me Sweets.”

You hum quietly, too afraid to speak knowing that your voice would break. You’re both waiting, making the call last as long as possible, but Jake eventually breaks the peaceful silence.

“I love you, Sweets.”

“I love you too, Jacob.” The tears from your waterline fall, and you don’t bother to stop the sniffle that leaves you.

“You’ve gotta hang up baby, or we’ll never get off.”

Your heads nodding, even though Jake can’t see it, hating that he always made you hang up. It’d become a thing when you’d first became friends and now it was natural.

“You come home to us Jacob Grant Seresin.”

Your finger hits the end button before Jake has the chance to reply. Slowly bringing the phone down to sit in your lap, you can’t stop the tears as they stream down your face. It was never easy being away from Jake, but right now, at this moment you couldn’t remember a time when your heart hurt worse.

Sobs rack through your body, your hands faintly shaking as you lay down on the couch. Clutching the decorative pillow to your chest with one hand, your other rubs comforting circles onto your swollen belly.

…

You hadn’t realized you’d fell asleep until you hear the front door opening. Your eyes aching, the tears you’d shed emotionally draining you, and you wanted nothing more than to go to sleep for the night. Though the padding sound of small feet, has you rubbing your eyes trying to hide how much you’d been crying.

“Mommy!”

Mathew rushes towards you, a smile on his face as he goes straight to your belly. Lacey’s figure follows behind him, and you give her a warm smile.

“How was school?” You ask the both of them, though Maty is too busy talking quietly to your stomach. Rubbing in the place where his sister had just kicked, and places a soft kiss on the spot, before continuing to tell her about his day.

“It was good, happy that it’s the weekend though. Plus, Bobby called me at lunch, so thank was nice.” The smile that graces her face as she mentions Robert, has you smiling at the girl. The sight of her quietly spinning the wedding band on her finger, makes you feel not so lonely.

“Jake called today too.”

The mention of his name has Mathew’s attention instantly, no longer interested in telling Little Miss about his day.

“Daddy called?”

His voice is so hopeful, and you feel horrible that he wasn’t home, causing him to miss the chance to talk to Jake. They had only been able to talk once while Jake had been gone, and you could tell that it upset the both of them. Their schedule never seemed to match up, or the boat was just out of service. The one call had been a happy coincidence, having kept Mathew home from school after being up all night.

Which had been a problem in itself.

Mathew’s nightmares had slowed down massively since you’d gotten together with Jake, he’d filled a void that Mathew had, and now with him gone, it was like the void had reappeared.

You’d given up the idea of Mathew sleeping in his room, after the first week and brought him into bed with you. The both of you slept better having the other close, and the nightmares had slowed, though not gone away.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” A sad smile graces your face when you see how Mathew’s face drops. “Daddy said to tell you that he loves you so much though, and that he will be home soon.”

Mathew's faces drops, tucking himself into your belly and gives you a soft nod. Your hand combs through his hair, comforting him as much as possible. The tears that you feel wetting your shirt, have you pulling him up into your lap.

You see Lacey give you a sad smile, as she points to the door and tells you to call her later. Your mouth a thank you, while rocking Mathew back and forth. His tears eventually slow and turn into hiccupping sounds. He pulls away from your chest, a tear-stained face and you almost start crying again.

You give him a reassuring smile, hand brushing through his hair, and plant a kiss on his forehead.

“Daddy will be home soon, I promise buddy.”

“He’s saving people, right momma?”

“Yeah baby.”

This time it’s you that’s pulling him into your chest, doing your best not to cry in front of him. Tucking your head down to rest on top of his head, rocking the both of you to stop the tears.

The three of you had went to bed early that night, watching Toy Story in bed, and having family cuddles. You wrapped in one of Jake’s shirts and boxers, while Mathew clung to the blue plane blanket from Jake. His steady breathing calms you and lulls you into your own deep sleep.

…

One Month Later

You had officially reached 7 months and Mathew was starting his first week of summer vacation. May had flown by and you couldn’t believe that summer had finally started. Though California was warm year-round, the rising heat had been hell. You couldn’t seem to get cool, and your swollen stomach was always adorned in a sun dress.

Jake was still deployed, though Penny had mentioned that there was a possibility that they were coming home soon. Apparently, Mav had slipped up while talking to her, and she couldn’t keep it from you. She’d sworn you to secretly, meaning you couldn’t tell Lacey or Mathew, though you wouldn’t want to tell Mathew just yet. You were careful what you mentioned about the deployment to Maty, he and Jake were able to talk a few times within the last month, but he was still sensitive to the topic of Jake coming home.

You had your 7-month checkup today and Lacey was going to be picking the pair of you up, to take you. Walking from your shared bedroom, you call out from Mathew, wanting to make sure that he was at least somewhat matching.

He’d taken to picking out his clothes, stating that he was a big boy now and in charge of taking care of the house. A thought Jake had put into his head during their last conversation. Now that he was a big boy, that meant he could pick out his own clothes.

Peaking into his bedroom, you see him pulling a navy shirt over his head, happily surprised that the shirt parried well with his khaki shorts.

“You ready bubba? Auntie Lacey will be here soon.”

The turn of his little body towards you, has a look of concern painting your face as you see the pout marring Mathew's own.

“I can’t find my glasses momma, the ones like daddy’s.” His tone was clearly distressed and missing the sunglasses that matched Jake's own pair.

“Did you look on the counter sweetheart, I saw them there last night.”

A small shake of the head is all he replies before his legs are carrying him to the kitchen. Following behind him, much slower, you hear an “aha!” ring out that causes you to laugh. Coming to rest behind him, you gently kiss his head, when a knock sounds from your door. You hear the door open, and Lacey’s voice sounds out.

“Hellooooo, anybody home.”

“In the kitchen Lace.” Her figure rounds the corner of the kitchen and Mathew is hugging her instantly.

“How is my favorite nephew?”

A giggle erupts from Mathew’s chest and Lacey gives him a tight squeeze. “I’m your only nephew Auntie.”

She gives him a glance, acting as though she’s offended. “That may be so Mr. Mathew, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be my favorite as well.” 

Her hands drift to his waist, picking him up and then promptly tickling him. The both of them giggling, as you watch on with a fond smile. Lacey’s presence in your life, especially in the last two months, was a true gift and one that you could never truly repay. Though you knew that when she got pregnant, you would be at her side, just like she was for you.

Reaching for your purse, you check the time and see that its 12:20 and your appointment starts at 1 on the dot.

“Come on you two, we’ve got an appointment to get to.”

Lacey ushers you in front of her, still carrying Mathew out to her car, and buckling him into the booster seat that she’d bought for him.

“We get to go see sissy today, right momma.”

Looking back at Maty, the biggest smile rests on his face. You’d told him at the being of the week, you’d had an ultrasound and that he could come into the appointment and see his sister with you.

“Yes, sweetie.” You give him a smile, before buckling up, as Lacey pulls from your driveway.

The car ride is short and filled with music, enjoying the breeze of the day. The drive to the clinic doesn’t take long and before you know it, you’re making your way in, ten minutes before your appointment.

Going to the front desk you give them your name, while Mathew holds your hand silently observing. The buzzing of Lacey’s phone has her apologizing before she heads outside to answer the call. You think nothing of her excusing herself, thinking that she’s only left in consideration of the other patients.

Your name is called and though Lacey isn’t back inside yet, you and Mathew head back with the nurse. She takes your vitals and asks you to lay on the table, handing you a blanket to rest over your lap. You mention that Lacey had to step outside, and the nurse tells you that she will bring her back when she comes back into the office. She gives you and Mathew a smile before she leaves the room.

Doctor Jones is punctual as always and greets the both of you happily, asking you to raise your dress so that she can start. The ultrasound goes well, Doctor Jones answered each question that Mathew had and stated Little Miss is doing wonderful.

“She’s measuring just ahead of schedule, looking to be about 30 weeks, so 2 weeks ahead. We will keep an eye on it, but as of today, I think we can expect her around mid-August.” Her eyes leave yours to look back at Mathew, “Just before school starts buddy!”

His eyes light up in excitement, “Time for daddy to be home too!”

Doctor Jones looks back to you, both of your smiles faltering slightly.

“Yes, baby. Daddy’s got lots of time to get home.”

The doctor goes over a few things to watch out for, before sending you on your way. The sonogram image of Little Miss clutched in Mathew's hands excited to show Lacey. The nurse leads you back out into the main office, and Lacey is sitting waiting for the both of you. Her smile is massive and more than excited to see the image Mathew holds up in front of her face.

Your hand rests on your belly, and a few sharp kicks have you sucking in a breath, ready to get in the car to sit down for a bit.

“Are we ready to head out?” Lacey is rising to meet you, holding Maty’s hand to walk across the parking lot and the other resting on the small of your back. You give her a gracious smile, muttering a small yes.

The drive home is quick, your body is already tired from the day, and the small nap you had taken while driving is suddenly interrupted.

“Daddy!”

Your eyes shoot open, and there in your front yard are Jake and Robert waiting. Mathew is flying out of the car as soon as Lacey is parked, and you can’t stop the tears from falling as you look over at Lacey speechless.

“Did you know?”

“You think I would have left that appointment, if the phone call hadn’t been important.” The teasing smile she gives you, has you laughing through the tears. Giving her a hand a squeeze, a silent thank you, before opening the car door. The door stops before you can get it fully open, your eyes meeting a pair of black boots.

Following the uniform up, your eyes finally settle on Jake.

Your Jake, with Mathew resting on his hip. The onset of tears is never ending, as sobs uncontrollably fall from your lips.

Jake falls to his knees, setting Mathew on the ground and telling him to go see Uncle Bob, his hands reach out brushing the tears from your cheeks.

“Hi Sweets.”

Your figure moves for him, arms wrapping around his neck as you sob into his chest. He mutters sweet nothings into your hair, brushing his hand up and down your spine. The other one falls to rest on your belly.

“Your home? You’re really here?” Your voice sounds so small and Jake's heart sightly aches at your question.

“I’m home baby. Not leaving you again Sweets.” 

You miss the promise in his voice, only hearing his confirmation that he was here, with you and your babies finally. Your tear-stained face pulls back from Jake's chest and your hands are pulling his face down to yours instantly.

Lips meeting, slotting perfectly together after 8 long weeks apart. The tears coating your cheeks are no longer yours alone, pulling back you see tears lining Jake’s eyes. The smile he gives you, has you tugging him back down to your lips. His lips separate from your own lips; to your cheeks and jawline, peppering your face with kisses. Then moves down to your swollen bump and places a gentle kiss upon it as well.

You look up and see Lacey’s tear-stained face, Robert cradling her in his arms. The both of them enjoying the moment, as a small body comes tumbling back into Jake. His face moves from your bump, and he grabs Mathew tickling him, laughter falling from all three of your lips.

“Daddy, we saw sissy today!”

The photo Mathew still hadn’t let go is shoved at Jake, a large smile breaking onto his face as he grasps the sonogram. His hand moves to brush through Maty’s hair, bringing the little boy back into his chest, as he stares at the picture. His eyes move from the image, to your bump, and back to the image.

Jake brushes a kiss against Mathew’s head, then goes to stand up. His hand reaching out for you.

“Coming on darlin’, let’s get you three inside.”

His arms wrap around your waist and for a moment you fear that this is all a dream, that soon you’ll wake up in Lacey’s car, utterly alone.

You feel the hand on your waist give you a squeeze, your eyes meeting Jake's. Your foreheads rest against each other before a quick kiss is exchanged and you’re heading into the house.

Robert and Lacey stayed for dinner that night, the five of you deciding to order in pizza instead of trying to cook. You and Lacey worked in tandem cleaning up the kitchen, as the guys took Mathew out back to play.

He’d been so patient during dinner, eating a slice of pizza, then begged Jake and Robert to play. The guys had informed you that Mav and Penny were having a BBQ tomorrow night, celebrating a successful mission and that everyone was required to come.

You called Penny just after dinner, asking what she needed you to bring tomorrow, though she adamantly said you weren’t supposed to bring anything. After going back and forth, your sister eventually caved and told you to let Mathew pick out a dessert from the store. You complied and let Jake know that the three of you would need to stop by the store tomorrow, before going over.

Jake had walked Bob and Lacey to the door, telling them thanks for coming over, as well as thanking Lacey profusely for helping you while he was gone. The woman just patted him on the back, with a shrug of her shoulders, and stated that’s what family does. Giving her a nod, and then a wave to them both, he headed back in to find you leaning over the kitchen counter.

Sneaking up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist to settle just under your bump. With a lift of his hands, a moan left your lips, and you were settling back into his body. Your head leaned back, resting on his shoulders as the tension in your lower back dissipated.

“So good.”

A hum leaves his lips in acknowledgment of you before his lips meet the side of your neck. He traces a line of hot open mouth kisses along your neck, landing on the spot between your collarbone and neck. Sucking softly, on a mission to mark you after months away.

The haze in your mind is overwhelming as you push back against Jake, the feeling of his hardened length pressing into your lower back. You’d missed him so much and now with his hands on you, you felt like you could combust.

“Jake, what about Mathew?” You didn’t want him to stop, but you’d rather get Maty to bed before he saw just how his sissy was made.

Jake places one final kiss on your neck, before gently lowering your bump again, the weight of it settling in your back.

“I’ll go put him to bed, missed our nighttime routine, and you go get ready for bed.” You give him a questioning glance, one eyebrow-raising.

“Bed?” Your tone is slightly whiny and causes Jake to laugh. Turning your body to face him, he gives you a final kiss that has your toes curling.

“Bed darlin’,” His hand creeping up the inside of your thigh, underneath the sun dress, fingers grazing your clothed cunt. “You’ve got a long night ahead of you Sweets.” His fingers tease you, slip under your panties to run along your slit. Your legs tremble, hand clinging to his wrist, afraid that he’s going to pull away.

Jake smirks at you, so wound-up for him and he’d just barely touched you. The swirl of his finger on your clit has your head dropping back. He loved that you were always so needy for him, but you’d become exceptionally horny while pregnant. The pressure of his fingers leaves your clit, and a whine falls from your chest. Though the sound abruptly turns into a moan, when he sinks the digits into your heat.

“Jakey, —”

“I know baby. Such a good girl, fucking yourself on my fingers.”

His tone is condescending as he watches you push down into his hand. Though before you get anywhere, his fingers are gone and your eyes snap open. Watching as Jake licks your slick from the two fingers, pulling you in for a kiss that has you moaning. The tangy taste coating your tongue and making your arousal even more evident between your thighs.

The tap on your ass, has you pulling away. Your eyes blown out and filled with pure need, as you look at Jake.

“You’re not gonna be sleeping tonight, Sweets. Daddy has lots of time to make up for.”

[duhnova]

fragile heart - kwon soonyoung

ex!soonyoung x fem!reader

word count: ~5.5k (look... i wish i could tell you)

kinktober masterlist

warning(s): smut under the cut!! (mdni), pwp, angst!!!, lovers to ex’s to lovers????, mentions/flashback? of the breakup, mentions of arguing, lots of crying, a lot of struggling emotionally and mentally, they're just heartbroken for a good chunk of this, soft sex????, make up sex, unprotected sex, creampie, a little praising, reader is called good girl & pretty girl & baby, soonyoung spits in readers mouth, cuddling after sex, let me know if i forgot anything! - don't mind grammatical errors/typos (i tried)

you and soonyoung had been together for a little over two years, romantically at least, you’ve known each other for far longer. so when you two had broken up three weeks ago it threw all of your friends and family for a loop. what could’ve possibly happened between you two to make you go from madly in love to strangers in the matter of seconds? 

it was simple really, well it wasn’t but you liked to think it was. you and soonyoung had been happy together ever since the beginning but recently, following his return from a long business trip, everything seemed to change. he was more distant with you, albeit his work schedule was hectic but he normally made time to at least sit and have dinner with you, so it was strange when he would text you a “sorry not making it tonight” minutes before you were to pull dinner out of the oven. it broke your heart really, four weeks he spent abroad attending business meetings with his colleagues only for him to come home and barely offer you a small “i missed you” with a kiss on the forehead. it was sweet at first, you thought, until that's all you got. the “i love you”’s were few to none, the skinship was nonexistent and you were lucky to hear his voice over the phone as he would drift off to sleep. 

when the time came for you to confront him about what was going on you were met with nothing but agitation and irrational words thrown at you out of anger (from soonyoung). the fight didn’t last long, and sure you could’ve picked a better time to bring it up, but it was the first time you saw him in person since the night he came home. all of the tears and yelling still rung in your ears as you remember how he slammed the door on his way out of your apartment, the sting of the breakup finally settling in when you had realized what you’d done. 

a lot of people liked to speculate that it was soonyoung that broke up with you, with his easy to anger self, but in reality it was the other way around. you were just so tired of waiting around for him to come to his senses, and it was hurting you to have your heart neglected the way it was. so in the heat of the argument you had thrown out your thought on breaking up. 

“we’ll maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore if you're gonna be more in love with your job than you are me!” you hadn’t realized what you had said then, not even when his face fell for a second and the room went quiet. Not even when he cleared his throat and mumbled out a quiet “maybe we shouldn’t.” before he got angry again, not at you but at himself, for letting it get as bad as it did. it took him leaving, the sound of his tires screeching out of the parking lot for you to fall to your knees, silently begging him to come back. 

fast forward a couple weeks and you find yourself sitting in your car, shaking as you pep talk yourself into getting out and going up to soonyoung’s apartment, where you would hopefully retrieve all of your stuff without having a breakdown in front of him. with a quiet “you got this.” you finally step outside, locking your car you make your way to the front door, punching in a code that unlocked it. 

soonyoung didn’t bother changing his code, hoping that you would show up one day and tell him it was all a joke, that you still loved him and wanted him back. yet you never came. he would never admit to anyone how much he missed you, how badly the break up hurt him, his pride being too big for him to ever show any type of weakness like that (unless it was in front of you).

he wanted to text you, call you, see you, but he couldn’t bring himself to face you. he had a thousand things he wanted to say, all drafted in his notes, and all of them starting of with an “i love you” cause god knows he didn't say it enough in the weeks leading up to your breakup. He knew he fucked up, he knew exactly what he did. he let his work consume his life, sure he was doing it so he could get that raise his boss has been teasing before the holidays set in, but he failed to let you in on his plan. 

he failed to love you, failed to take care of you and your heart and now he’s paying the consequences. the nights have been long and sleepless for him, and everytime he stared up at the fading glowing stars on his ceiling (that you two put up as a joke when he first moved in there) he couldn’t help but cry, thinking about how he’ll never have you in his life again, not even as a friend. 

that's actually where soonyoung found himself now, laying in his bed staring at the fake stars, his cheeks covered in dried tears. when he woke up an hour ago to see a text message from you he felt ecstatic. he jumped up immediately and opened it with a smile on his face only for it to fall instantly, his heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach. ‘I want to come pick up my stuff please.’ was all it said and after sending a quick ‘of course’ soonyoung threw his phone across the room and sobbed into his pillow. 

it felt like hours passed while he waited for you, he thought of every possible thing he could say to you, wondering if he should say anything at all. maybe he should just drop to his needs and beg you to forgive him, or he should run down the street to the flower shop he would go to for your anniversary gifts. maybe he should start on making the apartment at least presentable for you, the past weeks having been hard on him and he neglected to take care of his apartment. dirty dishes scattered the kitchen, last night's dinner sat out getting stale on the living room table and his room had piles of dirty clothes sitting everywhere. just seeing the state of his apartment he started to cry again because it made him think about how he treated you the same way. god he felt awful. 

you knew the layout of sooyoung's building like the back of your hand, you could navigate it blindfolded with a full bottle of soju in your system (like you did that time you both came back wasted from mingyu’s party and soonyoung thought it would be a good idea to cover your eyes while you both stumbled down the halls giggling and whispering to each other). even after the countless times you’ve been to his apartment, you still found yourself getting off at the wrong floor. you stand in front of the elevator for a little while, a dazed expression on your face, you didn’t want to be here but you had to see him. you had to get your things you kept telling yourself but it was all a ruse, you wanted an excuse to see him, to make him see how bad off you were without him and hopefully, maybe, make him realize he actually did love you more than his job. you hoped he would drop to his knees and beg your forgiveness (that you knew you would give him too quickly), hoped he would hug you and kiss you and tell you he’ll never let you go again. 

the elevator opened again behind you, a resident stepping off and walking around you, effectively snapping you out of your daydream. watching the figure walk away you wondered if they were going home to a loving boyfriend or husband and that's when your eyes began to sting. cursing quietly to yourself you turn and catch the elevator doors before they fully close, you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry while you were here yet while you stepped back onto the elevator you had to swallow a sob. 

with a deep breath you push the top floor, the dread finally settling in when you realized you were only two floors away. your leg began to bounce as a pit formed in your stomach. you were really about to do this, years and years worth of memories that had been built in that apartment were about to be packed away into a garbage bag that you were just going to throw in your storage unit and never touch again. 

there's not enough words in the world for you to use to describe how much you hate all of this. as you stepped into the familiar hallway the world seemed to slow down a little. you remembered the first time you ever saw this place, you were terrified because he lived so high up and you still weren’t over your fear of heights then. it was almost like a ghost had touched you as the memories of soonyoung dragging you up onto the roof where an expensive patio set and fire table sat. the echoes of his laugh rang in your ears as he danced around with you telling you to keep your eyes on him and that he wasn’t going to let you fall (a quiet promise that if you did fall he would be there to catch you). it hurt to think about that now, how bittersweet the memory was as this would be your last time ever stepping foot in here again. and while you walked down the hallway, closer to his door, you let a single tear fall. 

his door was unmistakable, a worn out welcome mat sat in front of it along with a ceramic tiger that his friends had gifted him when he moved in. it was cute, how he still had it sitting out there despite the poorly glued on leg that broke when his friends got a little to rowdy while rough housing (yet he refused to throw it away and get it a new one “it was the first gift i got for the new place, it means a lot to me” he would say anytime something happened to it and he had to glue it back together). 

with a trembling hand you finally knock on the door, three little knocks, soonyoung said he could always tell it was you at the door based on how your knuckles rapped against the thick wood. just as you knocked you felt an immediate feeling of regret, maybe you weren’t ready to do this, maybe you needed more time. and just as you were making your mind up to just run away the door swung open. 

soonyoung stood there almost like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes had dark bags under them and his hair was sticking up in all directions. he was still wearing the clothes he had on from yesterday, he was too lazy to change and now the sweats were extra baggy and the shirt fit a little looser than normal. the two of you just stood there, staring at each other for a long time, neither of you could come up with anything to say.

“hi.” soonyoung finally mutters, his voice hoarse from crying all morning. with shaky hands he pushes the door all the way open and steps far out of your way to welcome you in. you don't trust your voice as you step into the apartment, kicking your shoes off and slipping your house slippers on, they were fluffy tigers to match the pair that he was already wearing, they put a bitter taste in your mouth but you couldn’t bring yourself to not wear them as you looked around at the state of his apartment. “are you hungry? thirsty?” he steps past you into the kitchen to quickly put dishes in the sink and throw garbage away so can’t see the extent of how bad it was, how bad he was. 

“i’m not hungry.”  you mumble, which only puts a frown on his face but he knows better than to push you to at least have something. “but water would be nice.” you really didn’t want to have water but you could already feel your throat drying up as you fought the tears. despite the condition it was in, the place was still very much him. expensive artwork from around the world decorated the walls, brightly colored blankets and pillows littered the black couches, and it smelled like apples and cedar which happened to be his favorite candle scent that you bought him for christmas four years ago and you always makes it a big deal to buy him a new one every year since. 

“here you go.” he breaks you out of your trance as he hands you a glass of water with four ice cubes in it, just how you like it. you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched into a smile as you whisper a quiet thank you before taking a sip. a surprisingly calm quiet had settled over you two as you stood there and drank the water, soonyoung looking at the ground as he wiggled his toes around to make the tigers on his feet move. 

“when did you get a tiger print rug?” you snorted quietly, finally realized the bright orange rug that sat under the dining room table.

“oh, seokmin bought, said it reminded him of me while he was out shopping with his mother.” soonyoung played with the hem of his shirt nervously. “is it stupid? i feel like it's too bright for the place and it just doesn't-” you cut him off.

“no!” you clear your throat to calm your voice. “no.. i don’t think its stupid, its very much.. you.” you offer him a smile, a genuine smile (something you haven't been able to do in weeks). it seemed to help calm all of soonyoung's nerves though as he smiled back at you and for a second he forgot that you two were broken up. however reality came crashing down on him like a tidal wave and his smile fell, a lump forming in his throat. you noticed his change in demeanor and you remembered why you were here in the first place. “right… i need to pack up my stuff.” you whispered. 

gently you hand your glass back to soonyoung who just holds onto it and watches you make your way down to his room. his heart was racing as he thought about how close you were, how you were within his reach yet so far away. this was the moment he had been waiting for, he wanted to make things right with you, tell you he really did love you, yet his feet wouldn’t move. it was like he was glued to the floor as he stared down the empty hall, his bedroom door wide open yet the only thing he could see was your shadow. 

“damn it soonyoung, get it together.” he whispers to himself as he finally steps forward, making his way to his room where he gently sets the glass on the coaster that you bought him after he ruined a nice wooden table from cupstains. it broke his heart to see you pulling things out of his closet to fold up and set on his bed, memories of you rummaging around and putting his clothes on played in his head. he allowed himself to live in the past for a little bit, not wanting to believe the present was real as he sits on the end of his bed watching you with love still in his eyes. 

it was hard for you to tell if he was looking at you or through you because everytime you would turn around to set something down he wouldn’t move an inch. it worried you a little, the bloodshot eyes, the dark bags he had under them indicated he wasn’t sleeping well, and it was hard to miss how he looked at you, even if you didn’t want to admit it. and so you don’t. you will yourself to keep pushing forward, ignoring the eyes that seemed to be permanently glued to you (which they were, even in a crowded house party soonyoung's eyes were always on you. if he was a compass you would be his north pole, he was always drawn to you and no one else).  

“you’re staring.” you whisper while setting a shoe box down, a pair of heels sat inside for when you would go out clubbing or to an event that required you to dress up for. 

“i’m sorry, is it making you uncomfortable cause i can stop.” his eyes were wide, he wasn’t expecting to get caught, he didn’t even think he was that obvious (not that he could think about anything else with you in front of him). 

“no it’s noot, it's just… distracting.” you sigh quietly, moving to sit on the bed, allowing the pile of clothes you accumulated to sit between you two. 

“distracting?” he tilts his head to look at you, his eyes scanning every inch of you, trying to burn you into his memory before he forgets what you look like (not that he ever could, even if heh somehow got amnesia he could never forget you). 

“yes.” you chew at your bottom lip, fighting really hard with the urge to spill exactly how you feel to him. it was always so easy to talk to him, the conversations came easy and they flowed for hours, even if you were having a simple conversation about gold fishes. it's just how soonyoung was, he could make anything into a four hour long discussion and it would never be boring. “i’m trying so hard to keep it together right now and having your eyes on me… it just makes me forget about why i’m here.” 

“then i guess i’ll never take my eyes off you, not if it means you’ll stay here a little longer.” his voice cracked. he was scared he said the wrong thing when you didn’t respond to him and just as he was about to ask if you were okay he heard a little sniffle come from you. “y/n?” he questioned worriedly, your name almost sounded foreign coming from him yet it was somehow comforting (for the both of you). when he realized you were actually full on crying he began to panic, he fell to his knees in front of you and gently grabbed your face, whispering what happened. 

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, a quiet sob following. “i’m so sorry i ruined us.” you begin to cry harder as he hushes you quietly, his own tears beginning to blur his vision. 

“oh no baby you didn’t ruin us i did.” he mumbled as he tried to wipe away all your tears. “i let my job consume my life, i neglected to take care of you the way i should have as your boyfriend, and i failed to make you feel loved.” tears began to fall down his face. “y/n i am so sorry, i’m sorry for pushing you away, for not telling you i loved you enough, for not making time for you, for everything.” he whispered as he rested his forehead against yours. the both of you quietly cried in each other's presence for awhile, it felt nice for you both to finally get all of that off your chest, and to be in each other's grasp. 

“i forgive you,” soonyoung couldn’t help but look at you with wide eyes, more tears threatening to spill after he finally managed to stop crying not even a minute ago. “i already forgave you the second you opened the door.” you couldn’t help but laugh through your tears. smiling and laughing quietly with you soonyoung lunged forward to kiss you hard on the lips, weeks and weeks of emotions flowed through him into you with just that one kiss. 

“i love you y/n,” he kisses you again, “so much,” and again “and i’ll tell you every single second of every single day for the rest of our lives to make up for lost time.” and again, this time a lot more passionate than the rest as he moves forward, gently toppling you over onto the bed without breaking the kiss. 

it felt surreal to be kissing him again, it almost felt like the first time all over again as you gingerly wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him closer to your body and tangling your fingers into the hairs at the base of his neck. it didn’t take long for the kiss to get more heated, your tongues swirling around one another as your teeth knocked together gently, the fight for dominance quickly turning into a desperate act to try and taste more of each other. 

“god i’ve missed you so much.” soonyoung groans against your lips as he finally pulls away enough to allow you to breathe. there was a thin line of saliva that connected your mouths and heh couldn’t help but lean forward to lick it off your lips, a smirk playing on his face when you nip at his tongue. 

“i’ve missed you too, more than i think you could ever imagine.” and with that you're tugging him back down to kiss him again, your hand settling farther up in his hair so you can have a better grip when tugging it. this kiss was a lot sloppier than the last, with a trail of drool dripping down your chin as soonyoung tries to push his tongue further into your mouth, wanting to feel every inch of you that he can. 

you make a quiet noise when he runs his tongue a little too close to the back of your throat for your liking but you let him continue to explore, much like what his hands are doing. they originally were originally holding onto your face and when he laid you down they had moved down to rest on the sides of your neck, now his finger tips are teasing under your shirt, begging to feel the smooth skin underneath. 

“can i?” he whispers, taking another break to breathe as he tugs gently at the end of your shirt. 

“yes.” you breathe out quietly. it’s the only thing you can really say before he's delving back in to kiss you, his cold hands pushing up under your shirt to map out your body. 

you moan quietly into his mouth when his hands finally come to rest on your boobs, giving them a little squeeze through your bra. it was easy to tell just how sensitive and touch deprived you both were by how easily your bodies reacted to each other. the second you had moaned soonyoung’s hips bucked against your lower stomach where you could feel his already hardening dick. soonyoung groans quietly at the friction befores he's pulling away from your mouth and pushing up to sit on his knees. 

“where are you going?” you pant quietly, watching him in a daze. 

“i’m staying right here baby, but these clothes aren’t going to do us any good soo be a good girl and strip for me real quick.” he was always soft with his demands, even now as he desperately threw his shirt off and kicked his sweats and boxers to the floor. despite the thousand times he’s seen you naked his breath still hitched when you layed back down on the bed, your legs spread open for him and your hair framing your face like a halo. “you never cease to amaze me with your beauty.” he whispers before settling between your welcoming legs that wrap around his waist instantly like they always did when he was taking too long. 

he smiles at you before leaning down to kiss you again, the angle making his dick push against your wet folds. soonyoung groans at the feeling as he starts to gently rock his hips back and forth, your juices making it easy for him to slide in between your lips. it was delicious how the vein on the underside of his dick dragged along your clit, dragging out quiet whimpers and moans as you rock your own hips trying to get more friction. 

“i’ve got you baby, don't worry.” soonyoung mumbles into your mouth before kissing you again. one of his hands reaches down between your bodies so he can grab ahold of his dick. with a couple jerks of his hand and a grunt he’s lining himself up at your entrance before he's slowly pushing into you. he takes his time, not wanting to hurt you as your pussy stretches around his dick. the stimulation was a lot for him to handle as he pulled away from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes screwed shut and his mouth wide open at the feeling of you squeezing around him. “oh fuck.” he whispers, he’d never get tired of the feeling of being inside of you. your velvety walls hugged him perfectly and the tiny whimper you let out when he finally bottomed out was like music to his ears. 

“soonyoung,” you whine, the feeling of being so full was overwhelming as your heels dig into the small of his back. “it’s too much.” it's never been to much for you in the past, but in that moment with all the emotions you’ve been feeling and the lack of having him inside of you for almost two months, the burn of the stretch was slightly to much for you to handle as you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders and dig your fingers into his back. you just needed to feel him closer and you would be alright. 

“shhh pretty girl, i got you.” he mumbles, he gives your waist a reassuring squeeze before he's rubbing your hip gently. “just relax and let me take care of you.” he kisses the tip of your nose before he’s slowly and carefully moving his face to nestle into the crook of your neck, allowing you to pull his body fully flush against yours. 

“fuck,” you gasp quietly when his dick shifts inside of you after pulling him to lay against you. the burn was a dull ache now so you experimentally rock your hips causing you and soonyoung to moan in unison. “please.” your voice shook from the pleasure.

“please what baby?” he whispers against your neck as he kisses it gently, his breathing a little labored as he tried so hard not to cum right then and there. 

“please move.” you whimper, digging your heels into his back harder to try and push him deeper into you. 

“since you asked so nicely,” he smiles against your neck. while still laying against your body, soonyoung begins to rock his hips. his thrusts are slow and deep as he takes his time to map out every ridge inside of you with his dick, listening to every sound you make so he can burn it into his memory forever (not that it wasn’t already burned into his mind, he just liked to memorize you over and over again). 

“need more youngie,” god that nickname drives him nuts when you use it in the bedroom, it's so innocent and sweet yet the way your pussy squelched right after you said it wasn’t. “please.” 

“fuck, you know i can’t say no to you baby.” he groans as he moves so hes hovering over you again, one arm on the bed and the other still gripping your waist. “i’ll give you whatever you ask for.” he grunts quietly before he picks up his speed, his hips slapping against yours violently as he zeros in on your g-spot,

your toes curl and your head leans back deeper into the pillows as you let out a string of whines and moans, your head going completely fuzzy from the pleasure. it was crazy how well soonyoung knew your body, even after so long apart from each other. and it was even crazier how he remembered exactly what to do to make you fall apart in seconds. 

“open that pretty mouth wider for me baby.” despite the relentless rhythm of sooyoung's hips rutting intoyours, you still managed to listen and open your mouth wider for him, you even went as far as sticking your tongue out (your body knew exactly what he was getting ready to do.) “good girl.” he groans loudly before he's taking his hand off your hip to grab your face, holding you still long enough for him to spit onto your waiting tongue. letting go of your face he watches you swallow his spit through hooded eyes, another loud groan leaving him when you stick your tongue back out to show him that you swallowed it all. 

soonyoung moves to rest his other arm against the bed, encasing you fully before picking up speed again. he was glad that he didn’t share a wall with his neighbor as the headboard began to slam against it, chipping away more of the paint (not that he cared, the little dent in the wall was two and a half years in the making and he was determined to not get his deposit back when he moved out of there). 

“close,” you gasp out between moans. “so close, please,” you moan louder. “dont stop.”

“i wasn’t dreaming about it.” he groans before leaning down to kiss you, effectively swallowing all your moans as he reaches down between your bodies to rub at your clit with his thumb.  the pressure was building up quickly in your lower stomach as you clenched harder around his dick, moaning louder into his mouth and scratch your nails harshly down his back (soonyoung always loved when you scratched him hard enough for it to sting, it reminded him of just how good he fucked you). 

“soonyoung!” you gasp loudy, a whiney moan leaving you as your orgasm comes crashing over you like a freight train. soonyoung continued to rub at your clit as his thrusts became sloppier, his own orgasm creeping up on him as he knocked his forehead against yours to rest it there. 

“fuck.” he almost whines as his hips still inside of you, his cum painting your walls white. in the middle of your post orgasm haze you were able to see sooyoung's face clearly, his eyes were screwed shut and his mouth was wide open as he pant quietly trying to catch his breath,  and despite the eyebags and the dried tears you couldn’t help but thing that he was the most prettiest person you had ever seen. 

you two stay like that for awhile, relishing in the fleeting pleasure of your orgasms while trying to regain your composure. with a quiet hiss soonyoung is pulling out of you and collapsing on the bed next to you, his arm going to slide under your neck so he can gently tug your head into his chest. 

“i love you.” he whispers, his heart racing quickly as he braces himself for what you could possibly say next. sure you forgave him and you two just had sex but that doesn’t mean you still loved him.

“i love you to soonyoung.” you tilt your head up to look at him, a soft reassuring smile on your face when you noticed his eyes looked terrified before they looked excited. with a huge smile on his face he's gripping your hair gently so he can tug you up to meet him halfway for a kiss. 

“will you be my girlfriend again?” he mumbles against your lips. 

“i thought us having makeup sex was us getting back together?” you laugh quietly as you kiss him again really quickly. “but yes, i will be your girlfriend again.” soonyoungs pout turned to a smile real quick before he's rolling you to over so he can lay on top of you. 

“i love you, i love you, i love you.” he sighs happily as he snuggles into your body, mumbling that he wants to stay like this a little while longer before you guys have to go wash up.  even after you two talked through everything later that night over dinner, your heart would still drop when he would have to leave for a business trip, scared that you would start this cycle all over again when he would get back. but soonyoung made it a part of his routine to call you everyday just to tell you he loved you (he very easily could've just texted it but he wanted you to hear him say it). and everytime he would come home from his trips he'd go straight to you, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and his suitcase in another. 

feedback + reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[xoxotria]

grief | c.sc

pairing: choi seungcheol x fem!reader

tw: mentions of death, depression and cancer

themes: angst, fluff

note: this one really hits close to home as i wrote it knowing the pain it feels to lose a loved one to breast cancer. remember that it’s okay to grieve longer than others. we all heal at our own pace but don’t be afraid to let yourself be comforted by the people around you.

—cheol knew that you were still grieving the loss of your mother. it had been a couple of months since she had passed and slowly the light that used to shine in your eyes had dulled down. he knew you was hurting and it hurt him to see you hurt..

losing someone was never easy, he knew that but it pained him to see you that way. you and your mother had been very close. you lived a four hour drive away from your mother in which made their time together even more precious as you were always a momma’s girl growing up.

her mother’s diagnosis had shaken their family as her mother was always known to be healthy and someone who took care of themselves. she was there through every doctor’s appointment, the surgery itself, the follow up check ups, the radiation treatment—everything. she was there when her mother’s four year battle ended as she died surrounded by loved ones.

cheol had been there when his mother-in-law passed away peacefully ending her painful battle with the disease, whispering promises of taking care of you before he let you whisper your own promises to her before she took her final breath. he had comforted you as he took you in his arms as he reassured your mother was finally at peace and pain-free with the creator.

he took it upon himself to plan and arrange the funeral and let you spend the last few days with your mother before she was buried. you thanked him endlessly for that as you exchanged tearful kisses during the first night after your mother died. he had given you time to process the events, doting on you for everything you needed.

but it had been months and you were not getting better. sleep was a rarity for you and he could see the circles under your eyes darken with every passing day. you had lost so much weight as your appetite decreased.

“baby, please. you have got to eat,” he begged as he lifted a spoonful of your favorite food to your mouth.

“i’m not hungry right now,” you whispered as you leaned on the couch.

“you haven’t ate anything. it’s already past noon! you can’t starve yourself like this i won’t let you.” his eyes softened as he watched your eyes fill with tears.

“your mom wouldn’t want you to do this baby.”

“what do you know? you aren’t the one who lost her mom!” you snapped as your tears rolled down your cheeks.

“that isn’t fair—”

“life isn’t fair! it wasn’t fair when she got diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer. it wasn’t fair that it went away only for it to reoccur months later. it wasn’t fair when she lost her appetite after rounds of radiation and chemo therapy. it wasn’t fair when she spent days or months in the hospital to get treated only for it not to work and it wasn’t fair that she was in pain for so long! nothing is ever fair, cheol.” you had tried to move on as everyone in your family did but it was so hard—a part of you died along with her when she took her final breath.

you had known she didn’t have much longer in this earth, her doctors told you as much the week leading up to her death. it did not make losing her easier though knowing her end was near. it was the opposite. knowing she was dying and there was nothing you could do to delay or stop it. guilt drowned your heart as you recalled your moments with her from childhood to early adulthood.

“i promised your mom i would take care of you! i know this is a hard time for you baby but you cannot let yourself waste away like this.” he cooed softly bringing you into her arms as he kissed your temple. “your mom would want you to take care of yourself the way you took care of her all those years.”

“i failed her cheol. god—i shoud’ve done more. i didn’t even speak at her funeral…” your chest heaved as you sobbed harder into his chest. his fingers running through your hair as his other hand rubbed your back comfortingly.

“hey, hey, hey…you did not fail her. you did what you could do with the resources you were given. you may not know it but your mom was strong because of you—not just the thought of you but you. she wanted to beat cancer’s ass because she wanted more time with you.” he reassured her as she pulled away sniffling.

she looked adorable despite her puffy red eyes and runny nose. to him, she could be wearing a potato sack and still find something to complement her and praise her for. he was that in love with her.

“you think so?”

“i know so.”

she thought back to the last few months and realized how selfish she had been. she wasn’t the only one grieving—cheol was too. he loved her mother just as much as she did. he drove her to doctor’s appointments and therapy sessions when she had work and couldn’t. he was at her bedside when she had just gotten out of surgery and helped her around the house as her mother recover for a few weeks. he was there through everything at her side never once complaining about being tired.

“i’m so sorry baby.” you had wrapped your arms around him pulling him down on the couch as sniffles escaped him.

“i can’t see you like this, it hurts me. i promised mom i’d take care of you yet you push me away. i only want to be there for you. let me be there for you, please.”

it was rare that he broke down. your heart broke as cheol wrapped his arms around your waist as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. you realized how much you’ve ignored his feelings whilst drowning in your grief.

“i’ve been selfish baby. i should’ve been there for you the way you were for me. fuck—i’m so sorry cheol.” you kiss the side of his head as you mutter apologies to him.

you don’t know how long you two spent crying and whispering to each other on the couch; minutes or hours? you genuinely didn’t feel the time pass until your stomachs grumbled in hunger. you watched your boyfriend get up to grab his phone and order food with a soft gaze.

cheol was too good for you but you were glad to have him. because in this life, you wouldn’t want anyone else to witness your highs and lows with and he’d say the same.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

7 - Shadow of a Fiery Stag

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 11.3k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, slow burn, nighmares, blood and violence, discussions of warfare torture and executions, character death, smut, p in v, light bondage, slight dom/sub dynamics, references to unwanted and aggressive sexual advances, canon divergence

Notes: Based mostly off the show, but certain sub plots here are pulled right from the books instead. Previous chapter here, series masterlist here.

It was during a night like this when you had been at the opposite end of this kind of attack. The rain that night had been heavy and only grew heavier the longer you were out there. Most would have given up by that point, called out their surrender or simply made their way back home on their own. That was not you however, not that night. Your teeth were shattering and your clothes were so soaked through it would take days to dry but what kept you was blind, dumb, determination. Or stubbornness. 

It was a sweltering air of summer in that year, unlike now where the heat was dying to what everyone knew would be a longer winter. Your back was pressed against a tree as your eyes peeled around you trying to see in the darkness. You appeared to be alone but you were no fool on that. There was a wolf somewhere in these woods. There had been two as they hunted you and that of the sea, but one your partner in crime was caught, and the first wolf had given up once the rain grew heavier. 

It was a game, really. To the younger Starks, it would be fun and easy. Chase them and you around the clearing until they tired out or the sun begun to dim and Lady Catelyn would bring them all in. But between the four of you, three all around eighteen and you at sixteen, the game was much more competitive. If the runners could hide out until midnight, well honestly you hadn’t remembered what the winning bet was for. But it had boiled down to the two teenagers who hadn’t grown up in the wolfswood had to last until midnight without getting caught by the two wolves who knew it like the backs of their hand.

The rain started to fall when they caught Theon, both Starks all but charging him into the mud and once the rain grew harder? Robb tried to call it, but when you wouldn’t come out, considering it to be a ploy? Well it seemed Jon took that stubbornness of yours as a challenge.

Now it was nearing midnight and the rain hard as anything, you knew Jon was still searching for you, never trying to call out or coax you to him. 

No you were the prey being stalked by a quiet, and stealthy wolf and you had the great feeling he was toying with you. Purposely letting you get close to winning before he striked. From here, if you ran as fast as you could, you just might make it to the small lake a bit ahead and then you knew how to get back to the castle easily from there. 

Your eyes had narrowed, looking to the sides and in front but nothing was there. The tree was thick enough to hide you entirely so by the time he spotted you, you might have made enough of a head start. You had to risk it, and risk it you did. 

Taking a deep breathe you begun to sprint in the direction of the lake, only to be grabbed almost instantly by two strong arms yanking your back into their chest. You could feel Jon’s smirk, he didn’t even have to say anything. He had snuck up on you, and hid on the other side of the very tree you were hiding behind, and you never heard a thing. 

Struggling against the far stronger one, you huffed out with a laugh. “Alright, alright, you win, now let me go.”  

Oh he was definitely smirking, you could hear it in his voice as he spoke lowly into your ear, only in this instance for some reason you picked up on the raspiness of it. A husk in his voice that had been there for a long time, but for some reason as it growled in your ear it made you still in his hold. “I think you’re forgetting who the wolf is here.” 

If he noticed your sudden change in demeanour, he didn’t show it. Your voice a little more out of breathe for someone who hadn’t even broken into a spring yet. “Stags are bigger then wolves, Snow.” 

His hold previously pinning your arms to your sides, moved gently to unravel as they rested against your upper arms. Him not having moved you away from him, nor backing up to give you space. Once again, the deep raspiness of his voice made your breathe hitch. “Stags are male. Besides, you’re too small to be one anyways, you’re more like a deer. You know what deer are to wolves, Baratheon?” 

Jon’s tone putting a mocking emphasis on your own last name. Turning your head slightly, you could see his dark curls, quite long at that time and soaked as they brushed against the side of your cheek. If you looked any further, you may have caught his grey eyes, so dark at that moment they could’ve been black. Your voice was higher pitched, and it was obvious to both of you something in the air had changed but you didn’t have the words in your mind to pin why. “Prey?” 

As he chuckled, you tried to take one last chance. Not really for the sake of this little game, but maybe beacuse your head was overwhelmed. Even over the rainfall, he was close enough you could smell him and it made you dizzy to find that you liked it. But Jon wasn’t one to give up, as you broke free of his hands, you only made it a few feet before he called your name. 

Coming up behind, he grabbed and spun you to press your back against a tree as he stood in front of you, only when you looked up at him it wasn’t Jon. 

Something tall enough you had to stretch your neck to see, and staring back down were two shockingly blue eyes that glowed against the darkness of the figure. A freezing wave casted around you like a fog and in the distance you heard the echoing cries of a baby. 

Your memory having turned to something new, playing the events out right until it turned into a nightmare of cold you didn’t understand. It was that dream that you thought of as you sat atop your horse in the rain. 

Only this time, the two wolves were on your side and you were the one doing the hunting. Ahead of you were a good number of Lannister men, lead by Stafford Lannister. An easy job, even as they outnumbered your six thousand men they were poorly trained and with even worse command. Men were beside you, on the front ready as you and the King in the North were, but he had one trick up his sleeve first. 

You were staring ahead, but the small glance you took to the side as you waited out Grey Wind’s attack, you swore for a split second Robb’s eyes looked almost white. But then an aggressive growl rang out, and whatever you think you saw was once more his blue ones, dark and sharp in the night. 

The watchmen ripped apart by the direwolf, and the men led forward by who some had begun calling The Young Wolf. The King in the North, Robb Stark, the Young Wolf ravaging the Lannisters throughout the south with his Queen, his Silent Stag at his side. 

They had put up little fight, at least in respect to what you thus far had been used too. The dark and the rain had confused them, making all the worse by the orders given to those acting as archers just before. “Kill the men, not their horse. A dead horse is good cover in the dark.” 

The light came quick and the victory came quicker. Still freshly painted with blood, you walked through the scattered remains on the field beside Maege Mormont, keeping track in your mind of the enemy survivors being counted for. “That’s what? At least five of them for one of ours?” 

Nodding with narrowed as as you looked around, “So it seems.” 

The large woman next to you seemed to have sensed the mood, “It takes getting used to, your grace.” You turned with a raised eyebrow in question as she nodded with her chin to the dead around you. “All this. Every fight it feels like it never gets better, but one day you’re standing on the winning side and your too focused on how many of you, ‘ya got left then focusing on how many you killed.” 

She took a pause as she looked you over, the distant and stoic expression she had started to learn wasn’t that of a cold inside or uncaring. Just more of a shell that’s been long taught to cover you on the outside. “And if you ask me, the longer it takes to get used to it, it means you’re still human in the inside. Treasure it while you still have it, your grace.” 

Both of your eyes followed a path in the distance to where Robb was having a similar chat with Roose Bolton, but you both could tell there was some disagreement being discussed. “Some lose it faster then others.” 

Nodding with a slight grimace you turned to her, your hands resting on your hips as you both watched the pair for a few seconds. “You know, I can’t tell if I respect him or am terrified of him.” 

An easy laugh left her that was more of a knowing “Ha” then anything. Maege took a step towards you leaning down closer to your level. “Bolton terrifies most. I can bet if it weren’t for the King, he would’ve been hanging and flaying open those Lannisters the second the fighting stopped.” 

Jaw clenching you tore your eyes away from him, “As long as they have his sisters, he won’t risk doing anything that gives Joffery and Cersei any more reason to hurt them.” 

Raising an eyebrow at you, “You think they’re hurting those girls?” 

You could still see the look in Joffery’s eyes that day in the throne room. An unhinged look that only added up to all the separate times you’d seen him act out so egregiously. “That little psycho isn’t above dragging them into the throne room and having his sorry excuse of a Kingsgaurd beat them as much as he can get away with.” 

It weighed on Robb a lot. Knowing that they suffered with each of his own victories, that in his campaign to free them and his people for good he has to sacrifice their well being. It was something you know Catelyn was struggling with. Trying to convince her son that they will give them her daughters for Jaime, but you know handing him over is too risky. 

Information, details, secrets, and worst of all, you’d lose a hefty leverage over the Lannisters knowing that they would never grant the same in return. The North loses, people die, Robb surrenders in any way and they will drag you him into the public and end you both just as they did Ned Stark. 

Continuing down, it was nice to have found a companion in Maege. She was large, brash, unafraid to speak her mind to just about anyone while keeping a good sense about her. You had asked if all Mormonts were as towering as her and Dacey, to which she gave a pretty good laugh. “Most of ‘em seem to be. All but my youngest, Lyanna she’s a tiny thing but hell if she makes up for it in that mouth of hers.” 

You smirked, “Wonder where she could possibly get that from. You have all girls?” 

Nodding there was a pride in her face, “Aye, and thank the gods for it. Men in this family were starting to drive us up the wall, now it’s at least a little more quiet.” 

You had kept to yourself and only Robb that her nephew, Jorah was a spy working with the now single living Targaryean. He had already disgraced their house enough you didn’t think they needed one more slight added to their pile. It already was a stain that left them bitter, what he did. “My brother always said I was the short tempered one, but I’ve never met a man who could yell quite as loud as him.”

Noting the amount of your own dead, gathering names and families to write for as Olyvar had come to your side at the ready. Maege had glanced at you with an amused smirk, but you shook her off with a close to flat smile of your own. Robb had accepted him, but he hadn’t the patience for a squire that wasn’t quite use to knowing when to leave him alone. 

So he had started coming to you, you having no qualms about sending him off on any task just to keep the boy busy. “Be sure to write to Lord Frey yourself about Ser Stevron. I’m sure he’d more appreciate hearing it from one of his own boys.” 

“Right away, your grace.” Maege laughed as he took off and you found yourself chuckling alongside her quite freely. “He’s hard working, I’ll give him that but I have no idea how Walder Frey means to make a knight out of that boy.” 

“The most aggressive I’ve ever seen him get is when one of the goats bashed him in the ass a few days ago. Think it made him drop his grace’s meal judging by how much he was trying to yell at the thing.” You smirked, that may explain how strangely apologetic he was one evening about being late, when in reality neither you nor Robb had noticed. There was plenty to go over keeping you from noticing the time. 

Glancing her over you asked her, “How are you with livestock?” 

Her eyes narrowed in question before shrugging. “I can carrel them better then that boy can, that’s for sure.” 

Nodding you turned to face her properly. “Good, I want you and Dacey to take your men and start moving along the lines and capturing as much livestock as you can, start getting them into the riverlands so they can get a jump on some before they get too slim or the Lannisters pick them off first.” 

An easy grin on her face, “And here I thought you were going to give me something hard, that’s not even a challenge. I’ll get them ready to go by afternoon.” 

“Keep an eye out the closer you get. With us heading to Ashemark, then the Crag, Tywin’ll assume Stannis is going for the Stormlands meaning he’ll start heading west for us. Don’t be in his cross hairs when he does.” You glanced around again, “There’s too many men here even with you here.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You felt thankful she knew you well enough that she put her hand out. Yours clashing into hers with a steady force as she gave it a shake. 

You held it there for a moment as you gave her a much more easy going look, “Don’t get killed, Mormont.” 

“Nor you, your grace.” 

Taking a moment to look over the field alone, you went over in your head trying to organize just who was where and expected by when. Starting to understand how your father always seemed to wrapped up in paperwork, you think you needed a tome full just to keep track of your own men. Greatjon Umber should be close to the Gold mines at Nunn’s Deep, while the Glovers and Karstarks had moved to start raiding along the coast. 

“You seem troubled, your grace.” 

Your palm having been running over your forehead, you rose up in surprise to find Roose Bolton approaching you. Shrugging you could spot Grey Wind in the distance behind him, suspiciously keeping you in his eyeline it seemed. He’d been keeping his eyes on you as much as he always did Robb now and you were finding the sight of the giant direwolf close to comforting in a way. Turning your attention back to Bolton, “Not troubled. Just struggling to find a way to keep track of things without feeling like my head’s going to explode.” 

Chuckling, beside you, you always found him to be an odd man. He was someone with a commanding presence, full of a calm respect, and offered as much as he did listened well. And yet part of him spooked you to the core. “I’m afraid that feeling only gets worse with age. Finding a good outlet helps.” 

Face remaining impassive, “And what kind of outlet does a man such as yourself engage in?” Quiet ran between both of you, the tension growing a tinge thicker as he looked as calm as you did, only a single flicker of his eyes betrayed his thoughts as he glanced to where you could distantly hear Robb speaking to a group of men. “He told you no, I am to guess?” 

“He did. His grace dies not condone the use of torture, even now in times of war.” There wasn’t discontent in his tone or face, but certainly his words put you at a feeling of unease that was rather similar to what Robb had previously felt at such suggestions. 

“You torture a person long enough, and they’ll tell you anything you want just to make it end. Even if it’s nothing but lies, and we’d be none the wiser.” You thought not of rumours of Dragonstone, and how all too much of it was vastly outrageous and some inhumane. It was easier to tell yourself none of it was true here as well. 

Roose conceded, following as you both walked. “I must say I am surprised, your grace. I didn’t think a woman such as yourself would have been raised to believe in fighting war with kindness.” 

The smell of blood and rotting death festered all around the field, it stuck in the air and would attach itself to you for as long as this war went on. “I don’t believe in that, my lord. Not at all. I think if you’re too kind then you risk letting any fear slip passed by those looking to take advantage of it. But this?” Passing in front of you, a small trio of Silent Sisters passed on, all with gloves drenched in blood and bodies to follow. 

The two of you share a glance as you both waited,  giving them space to work. “This isn’t kindness, though. And the King has no intention of showing them any.” He looked at you with a lighter expression, eyes a bit more open to your words. “If he was showing these men kindness, then Lord Tywin would have no reason to hide away in Harrenhal, would he?” 

Roose tilted his head slightly at you, and in a moment of surprise, you recognized the same strange unspoken pride that you had seen from your own father. In earlier years, you had said when being taught the Great Houses of Westeros, you couldn’t imagine what growing up under “those kinds of people” would be like, when identifying the flag of a flayed open man of House Bolton. 

But as you stood with the man now, you started to think maybe you already did. It just took your own father a bit longer to get to the cruelty of it all. Interrupting your thoughts he spoke, “And yet he sent Lady Catelyn to broker a truce with Renly Baratheon.” 

He noticed how easily you smirked at such a comment, a sight so rare on the silent Queen. “Renly has had everything given to him by others, my lord. Robert gave him Storms End when he was only a child, he spent his days on the small council laughing and joking with Petyr Baelish instead of taking it seriously, and he has never been involved in anything more violent then getting knocked off his horse like a fool.” Arms crossed over your chest, you could see the men in the distance all looking to Robb with almost worship. “Renly has as many men as he does, because he thinks all a ruler needs to be is charming and his men will do the rest. I think sending her was the safer option, he isn’t really a leader who responds well to anything that might actually intimidate him.” 

Was this how your father felt? A love for his brother turned sour as he was wronged more and more, and watched him get rewarded for it? The men of the Stormlands would have turned to Stannis most likely if not for Renly, and of Highgarden? You couldn’t be sure. The allegiance of the Tyrells seemed to be something that eluded you. 

“It’s all just a game to Renly. And it won’t last forever.” 

You had been sitting partially atop the table, your legs up with knees bent against the seat of a chair as you read and reread the contents of the raven. Robb watched you try not to break into a smirk as the returned Lord Karstark stood present. “And you are sure this was meant for-” 

“Lord Damon of House Marbrand, your grace. No doubt about it. The details match what your scouts have reported.” He explained, turning to address the King himself. “A right fuck up, these southern men can’t even read, now.” 

Robb much more freely joined in the amusement Lord Karstark had brought to you with a smirk. “Thank you, my lord. I’m sure the Lannisters would thank you as well for such a prompt delivery. If you would give us the room if you would.” 

As the room fell quiet your face fell into your palm. “Everything I’ve heard about Ser Amory Lorch, and suddenly him not being able to read makes a whole lot more sense.” 

Coming to your side, Robb leaned back against the table, grabbing the letter from you with a mix of amusement in his tone. “By the time Lord Tywin realizes it, we’ll have taken Ashemark already.” A raven had been sent to Lord Marlyn of House Dormand, keen eyes being able to tell the general direction which a raven has been sent from one of Karstark’s men recognized a flight path coming from the direction of where they knew Tywins forces had been pushed back too. 

It wouldn’t have even passed them at all had it been sent to House Marbrand of Ashemark like the letter was addressed. Details of infantry movement telling both of Lannister forces pushing back out of Riverrun, garrisoned across the river, and of instructions to the very place your own forces were marching onto. “We started writing in code to avoid this.” 

“We were also ten years old, and afraid of our parents finding out what pranks we wanted to play on our siblings.” His voice trailing off in fondness at the thought. It was after your first visit to Winterfell, Robb and yourself would get caught the most getting into trouble and by the time you were to return to Dragonstone, both of you came up with a way to plan out things without getting caught. 

As you looked over at him, it was as if a wave of softness came over your heart. The gentle smile on his lips and the bright eyes that always spoke so much in them. It wasn’t fair, the only thing that finally brought you together so deeply being war. A war started for a father he still lost, and a family that was scattered across the rest of the realm and it all now weighed on his shoulders. Any loss, any mistake, any bad thing to happen all fell on him no matter what now and you knew there would be no way for anyone to understand what he’s truly given up to do this. 

He knew it was his responsibility to protect his family, and he knows that there is no losing this war that doesn’t end with him ending up beside his father. Robb can’t just give everything up for his sisters and surrender, because he knows that his surrender won’t mean anything to the Lannisters. Not after what they’ve shown themselves to truly be. He had no choice anymore, this was his duty and he has to do it. 

“We do not chose our destiny. We must do our duty, no? Great or small, we must do our duty.” 

You could hear him even from here. His words ringing out in lesson after lesson, hammering it into your head until you could say it backwards in your sleep. It wasn’t your fathers choice to inherit a throne he was never meant to have, and it wasn’t Robb’s choice to lead his people who had spent generations being shoved away and forgotten by the very throne your father now sought after. 

Robb gently calling your name brought you back to the present, standing tall over you once more with a narrowed look in his eyes. Just as he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, and just as you felt the gentle brush of his hand on your waist you lifted a hand up to gently cup his jaw. Pulling his lips to yours as the rush of comforting warmth ran through your veins once more. 

Almost too sweet and innocent of a kiss for where you both were, one that felt so much like the gentle kiss in front of the Weirwood. So many women in your life told you that your duty was simple, you were a highborn lady. You would marry a high lord, have his children, should you be so lucky have a quiet and simple life in his home. But you and Robb were nowhere near that. 

Far from home surrounded by a war that depended on him and all you had brought from your side was a broken family who hates each other. Pulling back, he could see the trouble in your eyes but the sounds of someone entering broke the spell between you. You had at least, gotten more used to not feeling so flustered at Robb’s lack of care about showing such physical affection in front of his men. 

Keeping his hand on your waist as you stood up and turned to face Brynden Tully, “Pardon the interruption, your grace.” Pausing he looked at you, even in his normally hardened expression you could see the apology for being the one to deliver it. “I thought you should hear it before the rest of the camp start squawking about it. Renly Baratheon is dead.” 

Your heart both stopped and pounded at the same instance, a dizzy feeling flushing your mind as you slowly brought your palms down to brace against the table in front of you. You’re glad it was him who delivered it, a man who at least wouldn’t take any offence to the cold roughness in your tone. “How?”

As Catelyn entered the tent, you at least put together how he found out so fast. “Maybe we should speak in private.” Glancing at her uncle, you shook your head, nodding for him to come in. 

“Stay.” Brynden didn’t question it, as he nodded to Robb still behind you, the hand on your waist wrapping more around your back as he came to stand more next to you. He understood that if he continued to find some semblance of solace in his mother you at least were starting to find an amusing kind of understanding with the older Tully.

Catelyn seemed to say something quiet to someone outside the tent before Brynden closed you all in as she looked to you, almost confused. Your name coming out in a cracked tone as she found the words trying to form. “I don’t know how to even describe this without sound like I lost my mind..”

Robbs hand around your waist tightened as he could see your knuckles turning white as you tensed your hands on the wooden surface. Your jaw set so much it looked like it would break. “Try, mother.” He was more quiet beside you, but in a serious tone. 

Exasperated, she stepped closer to you on the other side. “We were speaking in his tent, when the wind picked up and...” Her voice trailed off as her head turned away, only to see yours snap up with a flash of something you knew she couldn’t quite read behind them. “This, black smoke seemed to just..fly in as it..” She found no doubt in your eyes, so she only looked to you. “It looked like it turned into a man, and stabbed Renly right through the chest before disappearing.” 

“Cat-” 

“I know how it sounds, Uncle. Trust me, I do. But it happened right in front of my eyes, there was no mistakening it. The woman I came back with, she saw it happen as well. One of his kingsgaurd, no doubt they’ll blame it on her but I promise you, that’s what I saw.” Your eyes had trailed down to focus on nothing in particular on the table. 

Whispers in your head, images in your mind, and nightmares you’ve never spoken of all seemed to make this sound like the more rational thing. You could hear Robb and Brynden try to find reason with her that she was mistaken, when Catelyn once more said your name. “There is one more thing. The woman with me, she didn’t just see it. She claims she saw the...figure in the shape of the person who did it.” 

The hesitancy in her voice, and you felt something constrict around you. Being at war with him was one thing, but this? No, there was no way. Your father would never stoop to something like this. Ned Stark’s words in the small council chambers that day sung in your ear, “You’ll dishonour yourself forever if you do this.” 

The silence was stifling before you glanced to Brynden. “Do we know where his forces have moved too?” Walking over to where the plans had been laid out, he leaned over it as you came around to his side. Robb giving his mother a stern glance to drop it, to let him deal with this. 

“If our scouts are correct, then most of them are headed to Stannis’s side. Except for the Tyrells, who we haven’t heard where they ran off too.” Your eyes fell onto Storm’s End, he wouldn’t risk going from there. The charge from Dragonstone to Kings Landing was right in his path and he knew those waters better then the Lannisters did. 

Robb beside you came to the other side. “I know where they’ll go.” Looking up you could see him catching your eye. “You said that Renly had been trying to find a way to get Margaery Tyrell at Robert’s side, right?” Nodding slowly, you tried to clue in the dots he was, but you couldn’t push past the thought. “Robert dies, Renly declares himself King and Margaery his Queen. So where is the next best place they could think to go that’d give them that advantage?” 

Catelyn was more unsure. “But if they already sided against the Lannisters once-” 

Robb with no doubt in his tone, once more an easy shift to that of a real leader. “What do the Tyrells have that is more important to Tywin Lannister then gold or men?” 

You bit your tongue as you tried to keep your breathe even as Brynden answered for you, “Food.” 

As you exited the tent, you were met with a flash of a darkish gold shine leading up to a face you hadn’t seen before. Trying to place her but coming up short, “My Lady, I assume I’m correct in saying you must the one who came with Lady Catelyn?” 

Her voice was calm, polite, and as formal as one could ever hope for. “I am, my lady. My name is Brienne of Tarth-” 

Coming up beside you was Brynden, “Pardon me,” more stern then you had expected from him, but he moved right through her mid sentence regardless. “But this isn’t your lady, she is the King in the North’s wife. That is, she is our Queen.” A recognition painted in her eyes, and something must have clued in for her. 

So this is the woman who thinks your father was behind this. Whatever was in her mind, she found it in her to push aside as she nodded to you. “My apologies. You have my sorry for the passing of King Renly, rest assured your uncle was well loved by all of his followers.” 

“Followers that all ran to Stannis once he passed.” Onlookers had noticed tension between the three of you, but all but none would dare interrupt. “And it takes more then just calling yourself King to make you one.” 

Something irked inside of the woman and you almost were just itching to have her let it out. In a stroke of likely good luck, rings of “Your grace” spoke up as Robb approached. Giving a nod to Brienne with nothing but a polite but firm look in his eye. “Pardon the interruption my lady,” Hard to see from where anyone was standing as Robb put a hand flat over your lower back with a slight pressure. “But the Queen and I have many things needing attending too. I’m sure you and my mother are tired from your travels. I’d ask you do well to make sure she settles in.” 

Nodding, you could see her catching the eye of what likely was the woman in question behind Robb as she lost much of the tensity she spoke to with you. “Of course, your grace.” 

As she begun walking off, you caught Catelyns eye whose gaze was full of a complex sympathy, not an easy position you’ve been put in in her mind. Robb having quietly sent his great uncle off with something he pushed you with him in the opposite direction. “If you’re going to scold me-”

Robb letting a small amused smile slide onto his face, “I wasn’t. I was going to say that we’ll talk about it in private later.” Sensing your muscles relaxing, he let go of you before moving up to stand in front of you closer. “I’m having Grey Wind stick to your side from now on.” 

Your eyes narrowing in question he looked at you with a stern darker look in his eye not to argue about it right now. “I can’t ask you to-”

“I’m not asking.” His hand coming up to run over the side of your neck and jaw. “If I’m not with you, then I want him to be. And to answer your next question, yes this is an order.” 

Something stirred underneath him that you could feel was worry, neither of you really had any reason not to believe her but without the time, energy or ability to question it further? You would have to accept for now that Robb would feel better if you weren’t left on your own without a watcher as trusted as himself or his own direwolf. Nodding, you ran your hand over the wrist closest to your face, sneaking under all the coverings to run your thumb across his pulse. Your voice for now, just that of a whisper. “Understood.” 

You both nodded at the other, your eyes taking too long to look away as a protectiveness was clearly swimming in his, but was calm enough to not let it overtake. You both had things needing your attention, you would at least have to wait until tonight to give yourself a real chance to breathe. 

Or not, in the ever growing day that provided nothing but issue. Only this time the offence was far more personal. And the anger felt in the room wasn’t just contained to fester on the inside of your heart, no Robb was a Stark and when that anger was felt it would wash over the camp like the sea. 

The news came in from more then once place. Trusting in the man he’d known for over ten years, the person who oathed to stand by his side and had never shown an inkling he would do this. Theon had left in high spirits, and instead of giving Robb the news one answer or the other, Theon chose a third route. A brutal betrayal. From a man who swore himself to the King in the North, this was treason. 

Greyjoys had landed in on the areas around the North, raiding and all the worse which comes with their warfare. Theon had led the Iron Islanders himself to the heart of Winterfell and had taken it for himself, taken it in the name of his father. 

One King dies, and another took his place. Stamping out any alliance with the North that Robb had offered, an offer which respected their once rebellion to be independent again. Two kingdoms who had enough of the Souths choke hold on them, and yet when given the chance to work together Balon Greyjoy had instead sent his only living son to take the place he grew to be a man in. 

You supposed, this must have been how those words felt, father. His daughter, a Queen to her husband the King in the North. You know knew what mocking words felt like. King Balon, and Prince Theon. You could take those words and wrap them around the decrepit old mans throat and leave him to choke and die in the sea he loved so much. 

Robb sat with the words in his hand. His mother stood with a shock of her own of her own while you and Roose Bolton kept the only calm in the room as you stood next to where Robb sat, and Roose standing across from him. You were angry, and there was no question about it but Robb was angrier. “This cannot be true.”  

Roose confirming what he had informed you of moments prior to bringing the news to the King, “We’ve had ravens from White Harbour, Barrowtown, and the Dreadfort. I’m afraid it is true.” 

You could see it grow, if not even in his voice or eyes you could feel it in the air, the betrayal was more then an insult, it hurt. It truly hurt. “Why? Why would Theon..” 

“Because the Greyjoys are treasonous whores.” Looking up to him, you tilted your head with a pointed look that with a flicker of his eyes you knew the man caught. Asking of Bran and Rickon, Roose confirmed only, “We’ve heard nothing of them. But Rodrick Cassel is dead.” 

Your chest feeling a sinking weight in it like being dropped off a cliff, he had taken his home and murdered his men. Men he’d known his entire life. Robb was silent, but it was right at the edge and you knew there was no stopping it. 

Catelyn with a waver in her voice, “I told you never to trust a Greyjoy.” 

Your head rising up with a warning in your eyes, “Catelyn,” As quick as she realized the seriousness of your warning, Robb reached his limit on his own. 

“I must ride North at once.” 

Moving to step in front of him before he could reach the front you pushed him back, making him look at you. “Robb, we’re still at war-” Even from how many layers sat between your hands and his chest underneath you could feel his heart pounding and screaming at him as it rose up. 

An almost furious desperation in his yell as he looked at you. “How can I call myself King if I can’t hold my own castle?” You felt him shake under as you kept him right there in front of you, knowing if no one stopped him, he’d take off right then and there. “How can I ask men to follow me if I can’t-” 

Finding his eyes, you stood tall as your own voice was laced with it’s own anger, yet low enough to try and soothe that wolf clawing to come out. “You are King, and that means realizing that you cannot do everything yourself.”  He wasn’t calm, and he felt no less in a need for bloodshed but Robb stood still and evened out his breathe as you looked at him with the calm he needed. 

Catelyn stepped to you, “Let me go and talk to Theon.”

Both of you whipped your heads to her, “No.” The same look as you warned her with earlier, now in the sharpness of your tongue. “We won’t talk this out, he dies for this.” You felt in a tight grip that almost could be painful as he ran a thumb over your pulse, finding something relieving knowing that you were only as calm as for his sake. Your pulse ran fast, however. 

The woman wasn’t made for war like this, not to this kind of violence. Never trust a Greyjoy she said, but even hearing from you that death is the only fate you saw fit left her a bit stunned. 

Roose approached the pair of you, Robb not making any move from you. “Let me send word to my bastard at the Dreadfort. He can raise a few hundred men and retake Winterfell before the new moon.” 

Glancing at you, it was hard to not soften at those eyes. Anger and hurt and it tore at you knowing there was nothing to take that back. You leaned up more, ensuring his eyes looked deep into your own. “We have the Lannisters on the run. If we turn around now, we lose everything.”

“My boy would be honoured to bring you Prince Theon’s head.” 

Robb kept his hand on you, looking with a steady approval in his expression to Roose. “Tell your son Bran and Rickon’s safety is paramount. And Theon, I want him brought to me alive.” The question in the other man’s eyes melting out to an approval that for once, you both could stand on even ground over. 

Robb’s voice almost rough enough to be a growl. “I want to look him in the eye and ask him why, and then I’ll take his head myself.” 

The three of you stood in an approval, as he nodded. “I’ll send word at once.” He glanced to you, “Your grace, a word?” 

For a moment it almost looked like he was split about you leaving him alone with his mother, the last thing Robb needed was to be told that something he had no way of knowing about, was this much of a mistake. But, it was your mistake too then. You both trusted him, and you both sent him off without the worry of betrayal. If it was on Robb it was on you. 

Your eyes narrowed in question, but he just nodded. Not a day that left either of you without an exhausting rage. Stepping out into the night, you spotted Grey Wind sitting up in one direction and Roose in the other. Tilting your head to the direwolf, he seemed to be content to obey as he stood and followed close behind. 

Eyeing the sight with a bemused curiosity he nodded to the wolf, “I see you’ve attracted the attention of more then one wolf, now.” You shrugged a shoulder as you glanced back with a fondness in your eye for him, apparently you did, didn’t you. What was the saying, two is coincidence and three is a pattern?

“I seem to have a knack for it.” 

Chuckling, the pair of you begun walking through the camp. Looking to the men all around who deserved better then to have their King stabbed in the back by one they called their own. One that was raised by Ned Stark for more of his life then not. “I’ve underestimated you, your grace.” Raising an eyebrow to him, he gestured around the pair of you. “Every man here is a northerner, the first men blood runs strong in our own, and yet they all look to you like you’ve never been anything but one of them.” 

“I may not have grown up there, but I’ve been in the Stark’s lives since I was eight. Lord Eddard treated me as well as his own daughters, and I’ve been friends with his eldest sons for as long as I’ve know them. Hell, I even married one of them.” Somberingly, you thought of Renly. How he would tell you that you were never suited for Kings Landing, that the only place that agreed with you was the North. 

“You’ve even stood against your own father for them.” Roose seemed to sense the tightness in your throat at the subject but he pressed on. “Married or not, if it’s the Iron Throne Stannis wants, then it’s the throne he’ll fight for and I think most had dreaded that you would side with him.” You had a chance, you really did. But what had Ser Barristan told you? That your duty now was to your family? 

“My place is beside my family, and the Starks were family long before I married the King. I suppose I should be grateful that more men aren’t looking at me waiting for my turn.” 

What surprised you was the ease which he spoke next. “For a while, I was the only one.” 

Heart picked up in speed as you paused in your step. Looking to him with a hesitant wide eyed look as he turned to face you. “Is that what you asked me out here for, my lord? To tell me Robb’s men don’t trust me?” 

“Quite the opposite. You’re a hard woman to read, your grace. Everything I know of your father, I see very heavily in the way you carry yourself, and yet I see you in there like you’re the only one who can get through those Starks tempers.” You hadn’t really seen it that way. You just acted in the only way you knew, the only way you’ve ever been with Robb. Or any of them. Wolves can be temperamental, yet you’ve never once worried about that being directed at you. 

Your own silence seemed to prove something of a point to him. “I’ve underestimated you for some time, and I’m happy to be proven wrong. I see quite a formidable foe in you, you just need room to let it out.” Looking at him with a more squinting look he stepped in closer, your eyes glancing to calm the slight growl from Grey Wind. 

“What did you call me out here for?” 

“My bastard has his own way of doing things. I could tell him to simply do only as he’s been told, or I could tell him to make the Greyjoy feel some of that pain the King he betrayed is feeling. And the Queen.” An impressed look on his face, truly something about him reminded you strangely of your father, finding things to be proud of that most would tell you to ease up with. “Sometimes, we must punish pain with pain. Leave our enemies with a bit of fear.” 

You didn’t think you knew what he was trying to ask of you. Or if you liked it. As if what he saw in you was a darker feeling then you had ever intended to show. You had heard of what your father has done, and you’ve spent much time trying not to think of it. Not to consider the horror of fire that has been used as a tactic of fear. 

Inhaling a steady breath you looked at him, “Tell your son that Bran and Rickon need to be safe and unharmed. Have him find that out for us, and then it’s Robb’s decision from there. He is the King, and it’s his choices I stand by, now and always. Is that all, my lord?” 

There was a pause, as he seemed to be unsure of where you yourself was standing at his suggestion, but made his leave without a shred of discontent. “It is. Goodnight, your grace.” 

He startled you as he stormed into the tent. Grey Wind immediately taking leave to stand out the door, and yet the look in Robb’s eyes was something you didn’t recognize. You had assumed you were here before him, but judging by his dressed down state he had only walked out for a short while. Tossing something you couldn’t see in his hands down onto the bed, Robb walked up to you.

Grabbing both sides of your face with his hands and pulling you up to him, his lips hovering just over yours as he almost seethed. You could feel him as you whispered, your hands gently finding his torso and resting flat. “Talk to me, my love.” 

Eyes squeezing shut he shook his head before hissing out. “I need to hear it.” Stunned for a second as where this was coming from, Robb felt his patience wear thin, yanking you to press up against his front. Already you could feel how hard he was. “Tell me you’re with me.” 

There was the hurt, the betrayal from someone he never expected and the need to turn that anger into something else. Gently you danced your fingers up to run them behind his neck and into his curls. “I’m with you, I always will be and I will keep telling you that everyday if I have too.” 

His hands on you tightened before he slid one to rake through your hair. Nudging your cheek now with his nose before mumbling deeply into your ear. “You trust me?” Nodding, he ran his hand over your hair comfortingly, “I need you to say it.” 

“I trust you.” 

You should have been tipped off by how worked up he was, how much he was trying to keep himself in control as he held you but the softness of his voice was a trick that you truly fell for. One that revealed itself as Robb spun you around, holding your back firmly to his chest as he held both your hands at your sides like he was pinning them. “If I do anything you don’t like, I want you to tell me right away.” 

Despite your nod, he leaned more over your shoulder grasping at your chin to turn you to look back at him. “I will, I promise.” You dared not move your hands. 

Finally, a soft smile came over him. “That’s my good girl.” Leaning down Robb closed the gap and kissed your roughly. Pulling a gasping moan from your mouth into his almost right away as your fingers itched to reach back and run your hands through his hair. He lightly bit your bottom lip and as you opened with a little breathe he slid his tongue to brush against yours. The hand on your jaw trailing down, reaching slowly into the top of your shirt and smirking into the kiss as he found nothing in his way.

Biting your lips once, twice more before trailing down your neck. His facial hair scratching at your neck, leaving raw red marks where he passed that added to the delicious sting of his teeth. Your eyes fluttered shut, cries wanting to leave your mouth so desperately only to come out loud and needy as he kissed and bit at such a sensitive spot. 

You hadn’t realized Robb turned you in the room until he pressed your hand to your side firmly in a warning to keep it there. Reaching over you tried to look but he pulled you back to strain your neck back at him. “Ah, ah you keep your eyes shut for me.” 

For a second both his hands left you only to find him yanking both your hands back and wrapping what felt like a rope around your wrists before pulling at it to test how tight it was. Robb knelt down behind you dragging your breeches down slowly. “You drive me insane wearing these, you know that?” Carefully helping you step out of them before he ran his hands up your legs as he stood, grasping your ass roughly with both hands. “Walking around this camp, not even realizing how much every one of them would kill for even a peek at this.” 

A smack at your ass pulled a shocked gasp from you before a shaky breathe sent shivers running down your spine. Smacking the same spot again before he roughly groped at the plush skin. “They don’t-” 

Another smack, this time harder then either before as his groping increased in greed. “Oh they do, all those men want a piece of my pretty little wife and not one of them will ever get it.” On the unabused cheek, he gently massaged the skin before smacking it too, all the while watching your face twist in a fight of pain and pleasure. “I could walk you out there right now, and not a single one of them wouldn’t be hard as a rock at the sight.” 

Stepping forward Robb moved around you to sit on the bed, pulling you carefully up to straddle his lap, when you swallowed nervously at the feeling, his touch turned soft on your hips. “I’ve got you, you’re safe I won’t let you fall.” Shifting back enough so that you could firmly sit in his lap, both your knees pressed against the fur beneath. 

Smoothing his palm out to run back and pull you right over his cock by your ass, he other ran along the back of your hair much more gently. He pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, “I’m sorry,” your eyes narrowing in confusion as he kept you on the edge with both his hands on such different places. “About today, all of it. You were angry, then I was so angry I didn’t even bother asking if you were alright.” 

Shaking your head, you both hated yet understood why he kept you tied back. It was too easy for you to distract him with your touch, “You have nothing to apologize for, I know you care even if you don’t say it.” 

“Aye, that’s the problem.” Like he was trying to drive your senses crazy, Robb ran his mouth along your jaw once more, nipping along the skin on the other side now. “If I don’t ask, you just won’t tell me when you’re not okay. I don’t want you assuming I don’t care if I don’t show it, you do nothing but be there for me and if I’m not doing the same? Then I’m a bad husband.” 

Your fingers flexed again, “I love you, and you love me, that’s all we need, Robb. Just us-” you cut yourself off as he bit a little harder, marking the other side of your neck to match his previous. “Are we talking or are you seducing me?”

Smirking into your skin, he pressed his hand into your ass a little tighter, “Can’t it be both?” 

“I don’t know, maybe you’ll have to tie me up a little better if you want me to really listen.” Pulling back his eyes were dark as they stared you down, his hand finally moving from your hair down to hold onto the rope tie at your wrists. In a second, the world spun as he pulled you up onto the bed, and flipping you over so your hands sat behind your back. 

Robb pushed both your knees open before reaching behind him, pulling a small dagger out. One hand rested on your inner thigh as he kept your eyes on his, so you could watch him carefully tip the blade down to the top of your shirt before slicing into it. The sound of the tearing fabric almost screaming in the silence of the room otherwise. Tossing it down, he pulled back to rest on his knees as he took his own clothes off for you to watch. 

Your knees being kept wide apart as he knocked them open more with his own and knelt in between them, watching you grow more and more wet as he undressed. “You think any of them are lucky enough to have a woman like you in their bed, soaking their sheets when they’ barley done anything?” 

You shook your head, “They’re not missing anything special.” 

Leaning over top of you, you felt his cock slide hard and thick between your legs. “Oh but they are, and they know it. I could buy each and every one of them as many whores as they could handle, but none of them would make them anywhere near as greedy as you make me feel for free.” 

Both hands braced beside your head he dragged is cock along more ever so slowly, your voice coming out in strained breaths as you stammered out. “F-fuck, could start charging. Be good for morale.” 

Capturing your lips in a biting kiss, Robb wasted no time in deepening it as he let you soak his cock more and more. Pulling your hips up to his level, but never using the leverage to try and tease you more then dragging along your folds. “You think?”

You almost laughed if he didn’t capture your lips between each word before running a hand down, pressing a thumb against your clit, sliding down to gather the wetness he knew you were still giving him and ran small circles against it firmly. Pulling back with a small bite to your bottom lip, Robb slid two fingers deep inside of you, the sound almost obscene with how wet you were around him. 

“Those men have no idea do they? Not a clue how much of a needy little whore their Queen is, how desperate she is for her King to fuck her every single night.” His fingers started to thrust slowly, almost pulling out before a rougher push back in, a moan crying from you every time. “Or maybe they do, you don’t seem to bothered about letting them hear you moan like one.” 

Your core burning, head thrown back as he suddenly let a third join as he fucked you with them, “Please, Robb, of fuck please, I-” You could barley finish a sentence how worked up he had you, how much your inside twisted with pleasure at the sting three was giving you. 

Leaning his head down, he pulled your forehead to rest up against his as he held the back of your neck with a rough voice, “Remember my love, when you asked why would a woman want it to hurt?” You felt lightheaded as you nodded, the wolfish grin ready to devour you as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “It’s only because the one fucking them, knows exactly how far to push before. Knows right where it’ll hurt just the perfect amount that it makes you cum.” 

Your whine this time was a little harsher, Robb gently shushing your cries as he slowly shoved a fourth finger inside of you. Your body already sweating from the heat of him on top of you, the fur below and the need inside of you. Tears falling from the side of you as he paused just as he pushed them as deep as they could go, “Talk to me,” 

“Don’t stop, please. I, fuck, you make me feel so good I promise.” His smile this time was a little more soft, the gentle kiss a little more innocent. The wetness sounding obscene as he fucked you this way, but the heart pounding pleasure you were feeling in between the aching sting was too good. “Fuck, I love you so much.” 

Robb actually breathed out a laugh into your neck, leaving another kiss where his lips lay. 

Only in an instant, you felt that coil snap, back arching as much as you could as Robb gently fucked you with his fingers through your orgasm, his lips along your neck making the same bite worse. Pulling them out just as you started to shake, he yanked your hips up and pushed inside of you. 

You could barley think as he almost pushed you right into another orgasm, the stretch was thick and you clenched around him from the sparks of pleasure before he started to fuck you. Right up against that spot that had you sing for him, both of his hands now shoving your thighs as far apart as they could go he fucked harder. 

Slow, pounding of his cock that slapped against your skin loudly. His eyes dragging over you as you weren’t even trying to hold your moans back. From the deepness of his cock and how each rough fuck sent you closer to burning in the fires you weren’t even sure you were aware of crying out his name, and how much Robb groaned each time. 

All you could see and feel was him, and your heart pounded suddenly at the idea that he would ever consider you wouldn’t be there for him. The wolf making you feel utterly crazy from his touch like he wanted to possess you as much as you had his own mind and heart. 

Almost falling on top of you, like Robb needed to feel you pressed against his skin, he buried his face in your neck as his hands roamed all over you. You pushed closer to the edge and this time the fall off would be into waters you never wanted to swim up from. 

“Robb, please, fuck, cum inside me, my love. My king, please I want to feel you so badly,” The hair around his cock rubbing against your clit as his facial hair did the marks on your neck. His cock pushing hard against such a sensitive spot inside you that you snapped, coil twisting and breaking as your orgasm pushed you off the cliff. Arching into him and Robb holding you close as his hips fucked into you now faster as he seeked his own end deep inside of you. 

“My needy girl wants me to fill her?” His voice rough as it was cracking from his own pleasure, your thighs burned from the strain, your neck from his teeth and your hips already sore from how hard he was pounding inside of you. 

“Make me yours, Robb.” 

Something came over him as he reached his orgasm. His hands on you rough as he started to cum, hot and thick like you could feel every drop of it deep as he spilled inside of you. His teeth clenched onto your neck and for a split second it was like as he came, he was gone and an aggressive and loud growling came from Grey Wind just outside. 

Only just as he started, he stopped and Robb pulled back to press his lips against yours. 

It took some time to come down, for both of you. Robb undoing the rope as he turned you onto your side away from the entrance as Grey Wind wandered in. You were pulled back into his chest as you both held the others hands tightly between your breasts as you both settled your hearts. 

It was late into the night when he spoke quietly to you, “We need to meet with him, both of us. If he has Renly’s men now, he might stand a chance.” 

Snuggling back into his touch, you sighed at how warm he felt. “He thinks I’m a traitor, thinks you’ve stolen half his kingdom.”

“All the more reason to try, we combine our numbers then the Lannisters have no legs to stand on, and if he doesn’t? I may have an idea for that anyways.” 

Laughing lightly, your eyes slipped closed as he ran his nose along the back of your hair. “You think about my father a lot when we’re in bed, your grace?” 

You got a smack on your ass one more time for that one. He likely could tell you were too close to slipping away to get into it, but Robb was awake for some time that night. Not only was his head stirring with any and every strategy he could conjure these days, but also at one other thing. Renly Baratheon being killed by a black mist in the shape of a man didn’t seem to insane, not to Robb. 

Not when he could no longer pretend what was happening with Grey Wind was just his imagination.  

Another direwolf on the other side of the world also sat curled up close to his master, but there was no sense of calm as they lay there that night. 

One more night out in the cold beyond the wall, and another night Jons dreams were filled with tormenting images of you and Robb. Like the old gods were cursing him, more then they already currently were. You were his brothers now, he shouldn’t be forced to have such dreams that drive him insane, haunt him with knowing what you sound like in ways he almost had. 

It was impossible to forget you in the dead of night, when something was filling his mind with sights and sounds of you and too many of them were like an alluring mockery of what Jon knew he gave up. But as he looked up in front of him one of the two actual things he could see just made this worse then being stuck here already felt.

Ghost first, being the only comfort he still had, beside him and facing the second figure carefully. His sharp red eyes watching as on guard as Jon’s grey ones were. It almost made him more frustrated. The woman who spoke as if she had no hypocritical thoughts that she spat at him, as if her kind hadn’t done as much bad as his and yet she never knew when to stop that mocking. 

Taunting him for what she caught right away as inexperience and did she ever torment him for it. She had the gall to act as if The Night’s Watch were the true irredeemable enemy, and yet here Jon was, a grown man who certainly knew how to fight, having to put his own direwolf between them at night just to keep her aggressive advances away from him. 

Whatever she thought this was, Jon couldn’t possibly tell her enough times she was wrong. She refused to listen, mocked him, and had no care of being told no. And now, each night he was mocked by dreams of the one person who showed him the exact opposite of the abuse thrown at him currently.

With the brother who always got what Jon never did, and still the one person who was the only thing Jon once ever had to himself. Ygritte could taunt him all she wanted for whatever she thinks he doesn’t know. 

But Jon certainly did know what being consumed with a burning love for you feels like, and how much he hated that being forced closer to the wildling made him feel like a traitor to you. 

He had to watch you and his brother for who knows why, but he told you to do it. To find love with Robb, and you listened to him, you always listened to Jon. But for him, on top of everything in this new life he had to deal with, feeling like Ygritte’s advances somehow betrayed him to you even now?

Just let the cold of the night take him out already, he thought.

[cloudy-em]

The Deal - Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader

To be honest, I don’t know why it started. I made a deal with Y/N that if she pretended to be my girlfriend so I could avoid Andrea, then I’d do whatever she wanted for a day. It was stupid. I didn’t even like Andrea. We had sex at a party one time and suddenly she was following me everywhere. Of all the people I could’ve asked to fake date me, I don’t know why I asked Y/N. Some neo-freudians can claim that it was my subconscious trying to manifest my hidden urges into real life, or a neuroscientist can claim that I’m not a genius and that I’m actually stupid. I’d definitely agree with both perspectives. 

At first I was shocked that Y/N even agreed. We’re close friends, sure, but it was definitely a higher-stakes ask. When she said yes, I felt a bubbling excitement, but I wrote it off as excitement that I could finally get Andrea to leave me the fuck alone. 

It started slow. We’d hold hands at school, skip class to smoke together. Nothing out of the ordinary for us. Usually, I’d hold her hand in the busy hallways to ensure she wouldn’t get pushed around, and we always shared our cigarette and weed stashes with each other. That was phase one. 

Phase two consisted of being seen alone together in public. I’d saved up some money from doing other kids’ homework, so I’d start taking Y/N out on dates. Not under the L or to the Alibi where we could get free beer, but actual dates where people would see us. Little diners nearby, nothing to expensive. We’d go after school most Fridays and get fries or milkshakes to share. Pretty soon, rumors were spreading that Lip Gallagher was no longer available for a quick fuck because he was dating Y/N L/N. 

Phase three was the phase I figured would keep Andrea away for sure. Y/N and I would leave classes and pretend to fuck in janitor’s closets and bathrooms, locking ourselves in and fake moaning, trying not to laugh at each other over how stupid it all seemed. She’d started sleeping over in my room as a “just in case”, and it worked out for both of us. If Andrea was ever walking by the house, she’d see us walking in or out together or in the windows. It worked for her because she got to avoid her home life. We’d share cigarettes curled up in the top bunk together, laughing over how we’d gotten $50 each from one kid’s tutoring session. Andrea didn’t stand down. 

Phase four was the last and final phase that Carl, Ian, and I had planned to keep Andrea away. Y/N and I would go to a party, drink a lot, get a little handsy, and head back home together. Andrea was a party girl for sure, and there’s no way she’d miss one, which made it easy for Y/N and I to execute the finale of the operation. Ryan Bodero was hosting a big party, and Y/N and I thought it would be a good one to finalize our mission. We arrived fashionably late (we smoked a joint together to help us get through the evening) and the party was in full swing. Drunk students everywhere, clouds of smoke, loud music, and enough alcohol to be a full-service bar. I squeezed Y/N’s hand, guiding her through the crowd. She let go of my hand to hold onto my bicep as she stood on her tip-toes to whisper in my ear. 

“Andrea’s over there, by the bar, you wanna get a drink?” she pulled away and smirked. I nodded at her before rejoining are hands and heading over to the “bar”. We stood right next to Andrea. Perfect. 

“Alright, baby, what do you want? I’ll make it for you,” I was playing the role of good boyfriend probably louder than I needed to, but whatever it took. Y/N giggled, twirling her hair and pretending to think. “Hmm, what about a vodka cranberry?” she requested. Of course, after being friends for years, I knew that’s what she wanted. I nodded and kissed her forehead before moving over down the counter to mix her drink. I’d never kissed her forehead before. The only PDA we exhibited were hugs and handholding, but it felt natural to place a kiss there, like I was keeping her safe while I was away. After everything she’s been through, it’s what she deserves. I’m supposed to be her loving boyfriend, afterall. 

I finish her drink and bring it over to her, a beer in my other hand for me. She takes her drink and takes a sip, knowing before she even tasted it I made it how she likes it. She smiled at me, wrapping one arm around my neck in a brief hug and pulling away. It was too soon. “Thanks, honey! I’m gonna go talk to Laila real quick and then I’ll be back!” I watched her walk away, smiling even after she left and leaned up against the counter, looking around the room. When I turned to my right, Andrea was suddenly there. 

“So, you and Y/N, huh?” she asked. Thank god, she’s finally accepting that I don’t like her, and she’ll move on. “Yeah,” I sighed. “Best thing that ever happened to me!” I laughed. “Ha, well, I don’t think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to her,” Andrea says. I’m confused, and she can see it on my face, so she grabs my chin and turns my face to where she’s looking. Y/N and Ryan Bodero are talking, a bit too close for comfort, and his hands are on her hips. Only, she doesn’t seem to want them there. I feel my blood boil, ripping my face from Andrea’s grip. 

“Hey, asshole!” I say, walking towards Ryan. “That’s my girl, didn’t you know?” Ryan rolls his eyes and laughs, “No, but I don’t think she cares.” He pulls her closer for emphasis, but she tries to pull away, an uncomfortable look on her face. “Let me go,” she says to him before looking at me, practically begging me to do something. 

“Alright look, Ryan, I get that you have no respect for women, but let me teach you something. When a lady says no, you respect her,” I tell him, smashing my beer bottle on the side of his head. He lets her go and stumbles backwards, but comes back for me. We throw a few punches back and forth. My knuckles are hot, but I barely notice the pain. He can’t treat Y/N like that. I won’t allow it. He gets me in the eye, and I’m sent backwards. I go to lurch forward again, but Y/N touches my bicep. 

“Lip, you’re hurt, let’s go please,” she says. I nod at her, seeing her concern, but I turn to Ryan. “This isn’t over.” Ryan turns back to his friends as Y/N and I walk away. I hear her mutter, “yes, it is over.”

It’s a short walk back to my place, Y/N still clung to my arm, quiet but worried. When we walk inside, she tells me to go sit in the kitchen. I do. She grabs ice and some towels to clean up the blood and put ice on my eye to keep the swelling down. I’m sitting in the chair, and she’s standing in front of me, one of the few times she’s ever taller than me. I can’t help but stare up at her, but she doesn’t meet my gaze, too focused on cleaning the blood from my lip and nose. 

“Lip,” she starts. “You can’t just start fights like that. Someone could call the cops or maybe he’ll press charges! You can’t afford to go to jail.” 

“I know, baby,” the nickname rolling off my tongue like second nature and I barely notice her shoulders tense. “But he wasn’t respecting you, and he needed to be taught a lesson.” 

“No, he didn’t-” she starts to argue. “Dammit, you’re my girlfriend and I love you! Let me look out for you, please!” I’m slightly exasperated, not even realizing my confession. She’s shocked, lips parted like she wants to say something but can’t. I sigh, slouching in the chair, defeated. 

“Look, I know that wasn’t the deal. You didn’t sign up for a real relationship. But we’ve been friends for years and I’ve had a crush on you but I kept trying to get over it because I didn’t wanna fuck things up and here I am fucking things up but the more we fake dated, the more it felt real and I know in reality you’re single and you can do what you want but seeing my girlfriend being harassed by some asshole just made me so mad and I just lost it. I’m sorry.” I don’t usually talk about my feelings. I don’t even remember the last time I talked about my feelings. But I needed her to know that it wasn’t a spur of the moment thing, that I wasn’t just lonely. That I really cared for her. I closed my eyes, preparing for the worst. 

I feel her run her fingers through my hair, her rings gently tugging on the strands. 

“You’re right, baby,” she says softly. I look up at her, and we make eye contact for the first time since we walked through the door. “You’re my boyfriend. I should let you look out for me, just like you should let me look out for you. We’re in this together, right?” I nod, at a loss for words, still processing. I wrap my arms around her, my head hitting just below her breasts as I hold her tightly, her fingers still moving through my hair. 

“What do you say we forget this whole deal and we just date like we’re supposed to?” 

We both liked that idea.

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thank you so much for reading!!

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[sugarybitterness]

can you lie to a russian assassin? (no you can’t) - wandanat x daughter!r

series masterlist

word count; 2,665

a/n; more of scarletwidow life lessons!! i got a little carried away with this ngl👺 anygays,, here is where we see more of their relationship develop~ shoutout to my lovely friends in the marvel server for shooting out some ideas for this as well:] as usual inbox is open for requests for this au or just general chattin && feedback is always appreciated <3 enjoy some mama!wandanat y’all 🫶🏻

the last month at the compound has by far been the best ever since your parents’ death. for once, you two were in an environment where you were safe and had people who genuinely cared for your wellbeing.

old habits die hard though, especially for you. ellie was a couple months shy of a year old when when your parents passed away. you two were placed into a foster home that turned out to be a pair of hydra agents in disguise. their task was to foster as many kids as possible and weed out the ones they felt was best suited for hydra’s new programmes. you had been suspicious of them ever since stepping foot in the house, they barely cared for any of the children and you often had the responsibility of taking care of your sister.

after a couple months of being in their foster care, they adopted you both legally just so they could send you off to the hidden labs. with ellie being one, they focused on helping her develop her basic skills.

you, having got your basic motor skills at least, got the brunt of any physical training, which in turn came with punishments and pain. the scientists in charge of ellie’s general care and your mental developement had grown a soft spot for you two which you were grateful for as they were rarely physical with either of you. you were even more thankful that the avengers raided the base when they did, because the guards had mentioned starting ellie’s physical training since she had just turned four.

so yes, the last three years had been far from easy.

on the first night, you barely slept. as comfortable as the large bed was, you just refused to let yourself rest in fear that someone would come take ellie away in the night. the door creaking open had you quickly shutting your eyes, feigning sleep.

natasha took note of how uneven your breathing was compared to ellie’s but decided against commenting on it. instead she purposefully made her steps louder as she left the room and headed off for her morning workout. when you hear the footsteps fade away, you opened your eyes to survey your surroundings again shifting ellie closer to you, you attempted to keep watch a little longer but ultimately sleep overtook you.

you’re were awakened a few hours later by ellie shaking you. her round doe eyes looked up at you as she asked if there’s any food. usually you’d be back from whatever “payment” the guards have you do with food before ellie even wakes up. there might be no more guards here to hurt you, but you’re still apprehensive. and while they had given you food the night before just like that, you mentally prepared yourself just in case. hand in hand, the two of you headed out of the room, only to walk straight into natasha. the redhead had her hair in her usual braid, her workout clothes traded in for a more casual attire.

“oh good, you’re up. wanda is making breakfast.” natasha smiled at you two, gesturing for you to follow her. when she doesn’t hear your footsteps, she turns back around.

“if.. if we’re required to do anything for breakfast i can do it for both me and ellie..” you trailed off uncertainly as you look up at her, feeling a little unnerved by her unreadable gaze.

natasha stood there for a moment, many alarm bells going off in her head. she doesn’t even want to wonder what you had been asked to do, so she quickly compartmentalizes that thought for later. she goes to take a step forward but stops when you quickly step backwards. “you don’t have to do anything okay? not anymore.”

“but food is expensive.. i have to pay off the debt no?” you questioned, but relax slightly at the thought of not needing to do any of the things you were used to.

“no debt. you need food to stay healthy, you’re a kid malysh. you deserve to be taken care of. now come, let’s see what wanda is making.”

the rest of the month progress in a similar fashion. both of you are given proper baths everyday, not just the usual quick rinse with cold water you had become accustomed to, which didn’t even happen daily. natasha is constantly reminding you two that if either of you needed anything, you could just ask. while you remain hesitant on asking for things, ellie has almost no reservations.

while everything seemed to be going good, you were getting worried that ellie might be getting attached. the scientists teaching ellie had kept a cold distance, meaning you were the one giving her any kind of physical love and affection. now, ellie had both natasha and wanda too. the little girl had clearly taken a liking to the redhead, going to her with any of her requests and natasha granting most if not all of them.

to natasha, ellie was asking for the most basic things a child should have so she had no issues indulging her. while it worried her a bit that you still seemed so reserved, she never quite knew how to break you out of your shell. it definitely did not help that ellie took up most of her attention. ever since natasha had introduced the younger kid to all the toys tony bought, she spent more time playing dolls and colouring than doing paperwork.

however, natasha knew that wanda was making small but steady progress with you. while ellie had gotten into a habit of asking natasha for things, wanda relied on observing you for any cues that might indicate what you wanted. the first time you had breakfast with them, you had finished everything but barely touched the bacon. after some coaxing from wanda, she found out that you hadn’t enjoyed the greasy texture of it. you had expected to be reprimanded but wanda simply took the plate away and gave you another serving of eggs and toast. wanda had also noticed you took a liking to the various kid books provided by tony. so while natasha was colouring with ellie, wanda would sit with you on the couch nearby with her own book in hand. you never mentioned it but you always liked having her nearby, wanda emitted a sort of calmness that you were slowly getting used to.

the two adults were definitely glad to see the both of you settling in at the compound. moreso, they realised how much they enjoyed watching you two flourish. their previous night time discussions usually revolved work or any team gossip, but now they often found their topic of conversation to be about the two young girls down the hall from them.

one night, wanda confesses to natasha that she’s worried she can’t let go.

“i just.. i don’t think i can see them go tasha. i know it’s only been a month but, oh i don’t know. they’re good kids tasha, they deserve to be loved and taken care of. i just don’t think i can trust anyone to give them what they deserve.”

natasha, much to wanda’s relief, shares a similar sentiment. so after some more discussion, they decide that they’ll fully draft out the needed documents to make you two their children.

natasha decides now would be a good time to get the truth out of you. she knows that you’re much younger than you say are, the documents all prove it. but, she knows that you saying you’re older is a way of protecting yourself and ellie. which she aims to change because you are still a child.

natasha decides to try the straightforward method. at breakfast she asks you for your age, an eyebrow raised as if daring you to lie.

you know she knows, or at least you assume she does. but you’re stubborn and a part of you worries that by telling her your true age, you’ll be sent away. ellie is younger, she needs more guidance and care. why would the two avengers keep two kids when one would be easier?

you lie easily, telling her you’re turning 12, when in reality you’re only 7. natasha narrows her eyes at you and you avoid her gaze, picking at your food instead.

“you know.. lying isn’t very good malysh.” natasha hums and your grip on the fork tightens.

“well, i am eleven right now so. not lying.” you try and shrug nonchalantly but both the adults can tell it was forced. wanda places a hand on natasha’s shoulder, shaking her head slightly and the redhead drops the subject.

wanda chooses to try a different approach. she sits with you as she sorts out the books on the floor, picking out a book meant for slightly older children. she turns to pass it to you but notices you have a whole dictionary on your lap. she looks closer and realises that it’s russian, causing her eyes to widen in surprise.

your eyes skim through the pages as you try and find the particular words you wanted. ah, there it was.

malysh - baby

milaya - darling

your brows furrow at that. you had been curious as to what the adults had been calling you both, you were often called malysh while ellie was called milaya. you had assumed it was some sort of term for child, or girl, but you didn’t think it’d be a term of endearment.

“malysh what you looking at?” wanda’s sweet voice causes you to close the book hurriedly as you look up at her.

“nothing! i’m sorry i-“

“woah hey it’s okay malysh,” wanda is quick to soothe you. “you’re alright, yeah? just surprised because i didn’t think a dictionary would be your first choice in books.” wanda laughs a little and you feel yourself relax.

“i just wanted to understand the names you’ve been calling us, that’s all.” you shyly admit and wanda is barely able to contain the way she melts at your adorable expression.

“well, did you manage to find it?” wanda queries and you nod in response.

“i’m not a baby though.” you state, lips curled into a slight pout. “i’m a big girl and i can be useful.”

wanda sighs a little and pats the spot next to her. after some slight hesitation you shuffle over.

“it doesn’t matter if you’re a baby or not. you’re still a child okay? you deserve to be taken care of properly. we want you here because we care about you, not because we want something out of you. understood?” wanda gaze is fixed on you and you stare back at her as you processes what she said. you nod your head again slowly, assuming that is the ideal answer. your eyes dart over to the books and you end up picking one randomly before walking over to settle next to ellie at the coffee table.

ellie turns to look at you and shoots you a toothy grin as she shows off her latest coloring.

“look! tasha and wan!” the four year old giggles happily when you praise her work. she turns back around and begins to work on another project.

“would you like to color?” natasha offers but you shake your head. you try to start reading your book but something feels a little .. missing. you look up and around the room before you see wanda at the kitchen island on her laptop. you frown a little and you have a little mental debate in your mind. maybe, just maybe, you could try and see if they really mean they say.

“wanda?” you call out tentatively and the brunette’s attention is immediately switched onto you.

“yes malysh?”

you pat the space next to you in a silent question and wanda practically beams at you. she takes her laptop and sits at her spot next to you. now content that everyone was together, you went back to your book. wanda and natasha share a look, both of them pleased when they see a small smile on your face.

natasha continues to try and get you to reveal your true age. she’s exhausted almost every trick she’s seen laura do (and has done herself) on the barton kids.

she’s tried bribery, but it backfired pretty quickly with your past. you had been picking a book and natasha picked one that was meant for 6-8 year olds and offered it to you. the general storyline had piqued your interest enough, but just as you reached to take it from you natasha had brought it towards her. coming up with something along the lines of “oh aren’t you a little too old for the book? since you’re 11?” you had kept quiet, still eyeing the book so she tried to take it up a notch.

“or, are you much younger than you said? if you tell me, i’ll give you the book.” she had expected you to either argue back, or come clean but instead you stood up and made your way where wanda was preparing lunch. natasha watched, a little dumbfounded, as you clamber up onto the bar stool. she wasn’t sure what you two talked about but she received a slight glare from her girlfriend, red wisps grabbing the book from her grasp and floating it over to you. you accepted it with a quiet thank you to wanda before you started to read.

natasha tries the same thing again when tony sends in another shipment of toys. this time being enough stuffed animals for the girls to have their own zoo. ellie is quick to sort through the toys before picking one, holding it close to her. natasha observes you looking and sees the way your gaze is trained on a specific animal. she settles next to you and grabs it, your gaze flits from the toy to natasha.

“is this the one you like malysh?” natasha questions. your teeth pulls at your lower lip, your stare jumping between the stuffed animal and the redhead.

“if i say yes, do i get it or will you ask how old am i again?” you counter, absentmindedly fiddling with your fingers.

natasha gapes at you for a bit before sighing. she mulls over her thoughts before she begins to speak.

“look, i know you know that i know. truthfully, i don’t mind you lying to me. because i get it. being older makes you stronger, makes it safer, right?” natasha pauses and you nod hesitantly, keeping your head down.

“i’m a big girl. no one..” you take in a shaky breath before continuing. “no one wants a baby, much less two. and you already have ellie, so, that means i’m a big girl.”

“well i’m not no one, am i? wanda and i, we want this. we want you, malysh. both of you.” your head snaps up at that, your big eyes looking up at her. natasha chuckles softly as she places the stuffed toy in your lap. “we’ve talked about it and well.. we just don’t think we can let you go.”

“so we stay?” you ask, eyes glossing over with tears. “here? with you and wanda?”

“if that’s what you want malysh then yes. you are both our babies, you know? not just ellie.” natasha reiterates, one hand slowly going to wipe away your tears.

you swallow the lump in your throat as you continue to cry silently, your fingers tangling in the soft fur of the toy in your lap. safe. you two were finally safe.

“i turn 8 at the end of the year.” you whisper softly, peering up at natasha through your eyelashes. natasha’s smile broadens at your words, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“thank you malysh. i promise you that wanda and i will always protect you. no one will ever hurt you, or ellie, again. not on our watch.”