#which to me made the series a bit boring

[thedevilsrain]

the series would become much more low key as it went on and became more and more serious spy action, but as silly as they were i truly miss the grandeur and dare i say camp of the first few eroica chapters, so heres some panels i like that i feel capture that essence

[stevethehairington]

book 5 of the year done!!!! im literally one book away from halfway to my goal and the first month of the year isn't even over yet fjsksk i am DEFINITELY going to hit it this year!

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse ii); s.g.

synopsis: when gojo satoru first interacted with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo and reader saving a kitten (a moment straight out of a romcom for sure), not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: truly didn't think the first part to this anthology series would gain such attention! thank u for that! again, these can be read as a standalone (or connected to this one, but you don't have to read it); enjoy and lmk if u want more!

It was this specific cherry blossom tree Satoru always found you under. The one Kento mentioned the first time he ever asked him about you. If you weren't busy with training or missions, or enjoying life outside the jujutsu world, he found you there. Although there was an array of trees, there was one specific one you seemed to gravitate towards. 

He wasn't sure if it was the specific spot that had good lighting for when you wanted to read or sketch in your little book, or maybe it was the way the roots formed a perfect spot to sit in between... whatever it was, he knew it to be your tree. Even when you weren't around. There was something... welcoming about it. Whenever he walked by with Suguru and Shoko nearby, or whenever he was aimlessly wandering around, he always found himself peeking in its direction, hoping you were sitting underneath it. 

For a confident young man, it took Gojo some time to make his way to you. Claiming to love you when he hadn't even uttered a word in your direction was bold, even going as far as believing you were his soulmate was quite the exaggeration. So why was it hard for him to simply say hello? 

Maybe it was because he wasn't a simple person. Nothing about Gojo Satoru screamed simple. He was anything but that. Yet, a task as easy as that—which came naturally to any other girl around him—was a hassle. Each time he thought he found the courage to step up, he let his racing heart deter him. 

That was until you made the first move. 

It caught him completely off guard, the way you gently tapped his arm from behind, peeking up at him with that sweet smile of yours. His heart did somersaults, his eyes widened behind his round frames, so big that his shades couldn't even hide them. He had been on one of his little walks, new treat in hand that Shoko bribed him with in order to practice her reverse curse technique on him. He was bored, completing his missions and not having much to train on when he already excelled at everything. 

At everything except talking to the girl of his dreams. 

"Hi," you kindly greeted, smile reaching your eyes. Oh, god, you were an angel. A being descended from up above. How could you exist so easily in such a cruel world? He needed to protect you, right? Even if he could see your cursed energy oozing out so brightly. You must've been powerful, something he never considered, always looking at you like you were some little bunny to keep in his pocket... not one who could possibly kick the shit out of him (if he'd let you and he definitely would). "Can you help me out?"

"Pretty..." the words slipped his mouth before he could even process them. Quickly sealing his lips and clearing his throat as you tilted your head, Satoru straightened his back. "What is it?"

Dismissing the sudden word vomit, assuming he was in his own world, you pointed to the left of you. "I sit under those trees, but I keep hearing soft meows coming from one of them. I'm too short to reach... do you think—"

"Yes," the white haired young man instantly nodded as you blinked. Without a second word, he turned on his heel and stalked towards the tree that you claimed your own. 

You, a bit baffled, were unsure as to how exactly he knew which tree you had been pointing at when it was a general direction. Yet, there he was, approaching the tree you were referring to. "It's quite high up, but you're very tall!" You called out before following after him, lightly jogging to catch up before stopping behind him as he eyed the tree. 

In reality, Gojo didn't think any of it through. He just wanted to say yes to be around you, to hear you speak more. Not... to climb up a tree to save a stray kitten. But, whatever made him look better in his eyes, he didn't mind. 

"Be careful!" You exclaimed as you watched him make his way up the tree, no hesitations. You were a bit surprised that someone so easily wanted to help you save a cat. Maybe he liked animals, too?

Or maybe he was a fool madly in love with you—you wouldn't know this yet. 

"Oh, there! You've got 'em!" You clapped as you watched the uniformed young man gently reach for and latch onto the small, white kitten. 

"Ah, don't worry, I'm only here to help you," Gojo said, carefully pulling the kitten towards himself. "I've got you, you're safe now. I just gotta figure out—"

"Watch out!" You shrieked.

"Shit!" Satoru yelped as he lost his balance, clutching the kitten close as he slipped from the branch. Landing with a loud thud, followed by several groans of pain (and pure embarrassment... when did he ever make himself look like a complete fool?!), Gojo rolled around with his eyes closed. 

"Are you alright?!" You panicked, rushing over and kneeling at his side, gently lifting his head with one hand as your other pressed carefully against his shoulder, eyeing his body for any wounds. 

"Agh... dammit..." he grunted, eyes fluttering open and adjusting to the brightness of the sun. Blinking a few times, blurred vision focusing, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of you. Your hair that was usually held back by its ribbon, cascaded around your face as a few strands slipped out from the ponytail. With eyebrows narrowed and a look of worry on his face, Satoru's embarrassment turned into that of timidness. You were engulfed by the sunlight, glowing like the angel you were. "Gosh, you're so pretty..."

"Are you okay?" You asked in a panic, his mumbled words coming off too slurred to understand. "Did you hit your head too hard?"

Shaking his head as he forced himself to sit up, Gojo rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "No, 'm fine..." he sighed before looking down at his hands to the kitten. "So is this little guy."

Turning your attention from the white haired young man, to the matching kitten, you gasped, "what a hero!"

Grinning and feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, Gojo shrugged, "eh, ''twas nothing..."

"You almost broke a few bones, though..." you frowned, looking back at him. 

"I'm tough," he brushed off before turning to face you. Now eye to eye, the sudden confidence instantly sizzled away as he gazed at you from up close. A sudden silence weaved between the two of you as your eyes locked, nothing but the sounds of nature and the kittens purring filled the air. "I..."

"Um..."

"You should keep it," Satoru suddenly said, handing you the kitten. "Deserves a nice home."

"Oh, me?" You asked as you took the kitten in your hands, caressing its soft, white fur. 

"Yeah, I wouldn't be a good dad," he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You... You'd be a great mom to it, I'm sure."

Eyeing the kitten, then looking back up at him, you smiled, "we can coparent."

At your offer, Gojo gulped. "Co... parent?"

"Yeah, like, help me out with..." lifting the kitten up, you squinted your eyes, "her."

"I... I don't know much about taking care of animals but I can try and help as much as I can," he offered, scratching his head nervously. 

Smiling, you brought the kitten close to your chest, "you saved her from a tree, I'm sure she will remember that."

"Yeah, maybe," Satoru blushed.

Looking down at the kitten as you pet her, listening to her gentle purring, you happily sighed, "what's your name?"

Quickly pointing at himself, the blue eyed boy asked, "mine?"

"Mhm," you nodded. 

"Gojo. Gojo Satoru. You can call me Satoru, though," he nearly blurted out as you chuckled before giving him yours. 

"Well, Satoru," you beamed as he melted at the sound of his name slipping off your tongue, "I think I'll name her after you."

"Wha— Satoru? But... she's a girl?" He tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows. 

"I was thinking of a nickname," you said before looking down at the kitten. "I'll name her Toru. It's cute, right?"

Nodding slowly, then faster, Gojo agreed. "Yeah, Toru is cute."

Lifting your gaze to meet his, you gave him a toothy smile. "Toru it is."

[fangirl-dot-com]

✉️Divorce of Convenience

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Wife!Reader Genre: Fluff/Mischief/Miscommunication Summary: Oscar as your first everything: love, boyfriend, husband. You never had to go through any type of heartbreak ever. With Taylor Swift's new album, you yearn for a deeper connection with the songs. What's a better way than to ask your husband for a weekend divorce?

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Oscar knew something was up the moment you started smirking behind your phone as you lounged on the couch. His hand was mindlessly rubbing one of your ankles that was currently propped up on his lap. There was a week in between Monaco and Canada, which gave him time to come straight home to you. 

Photographs littered the walls of your home. Some from the very early days of grade school, where you and Oscar first met. And then some of grades 9 through 12 and Oscar’s karting and Formula racing, which marked the first four years of your relationship. The engagement pictures and wedding pictures followed a year later. 

There were a couple of pictures from 2023, signifying Oscar’s first year in McLaren. There were few from this year, as Oscar got busier, but you managed to pick some out to print. However, the Aussie really didn’t notice them at first, too busy wrapping you in his arms when he got home from the double-header. 

Another giggle made him actually look at you, eyebrow raised. 

“What’s got you all smiley?” 

You huffed as you put your phone down in your lap. 

“Taylor Swift came out with a new album, and people on Tik Tok are hilarious.”  

He rolled his eyes. He knew that there was more to it. 

“And?” 

“I’m just thinking about how if we ever went through a breakup, I could relate to some of the songs on a deeper level.” 

You sat up to scooch closer to your husband, now touching shoulders as you showed him a video of a woman crying to one of the new songs. Oscar was having a hard time realizing why this was funny to you.

“What if we got a divorce?” 

Oh. 

Oscar whipped his head toward you, hair swishing. “You want to do what?” 

You huffed again, lightly rolling your eyes. “A divorce for like just a bit, so that I can really get to Taylor’s level.” 

Oscar’s head reeled back. “Why on earth would you want to do that?” 

He was getting a bit self-conscious. Was this your way of silently telling him that you weren’t satisfied being married to him? Was he away too much? Were you bored without him here? Did you want to come to more races with him?  

“Ossie, it’s not what you think,” you said as you waved your hands around. Your husband crossed his arms, not entirely impressed. 

“What I’m thinking is that you’re not happy with me anymore.” 

You wanted to melt into the couch as his sad expression. There wasn’t much difference between him and his new “brother” Leo in terms of puppy eyes. You gently put your hands on his cheeks and made him look at you. 

“Oscar you should know better. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” 

He pouted slightly. “Then why do you want to get a ‘divorce’ if you’re still happy.” 

You looked down at your lap as you took your hands away from his face. Your fingers started to pick at the skin around your nails. Now that you thought about it, your idea was childish and dramatic. Why would you want to get a divorce when you were happily married to the love of your life. 

“Hey.” It was Oscar’s turn to turn your head to look at him. “Just tell me. I’m having a hard time understanding.” 

“You were my first everything, you know this. I’ve never gone through a bad breakup or heartbreak, and sometimes I wish that I could experience that.” 

He gave you a look. “I understand.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You do?” 

A nod was your answer. “It’s a part of growing up that you didn’t get to go through.” 

Nervous giggles fell through your lips, which turned into actual laughing. You fell forward into Oscar’s lap, making him laugh with you. When all giggles and laughs had subsided, he gave you a quick peck on your lips. 

The McLaren driver started to calculate things in his head. “Saur, you want to get a divorce, to listen to some songs for a few hours, and then?” 

You bumped him lightly with your shoulder. “Not an actual divorce Ossie. Just, if lots of people believe that we’re getting a divorce then it’s technically true?” 

Even you didn’t sound 100 percent sure. 

Oscar turned his body to fully face you. Now it was his turn to smirk, knowing what you wanted to do. He was never above creating some mischief online. Heck, his tweets went viral for stirring up the media. 

“So, how are we going to do this?” 

What Osar wasn’t ready for, was for you to have a 10-step plan for this. He should have been ready for your antics; he had been with you for most of your life. You suddenly stopped talking mid-sentence, your eyes widening, raising some concern in Oscar. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“We can’t tell Lando.” 

With that the plan went into motion. Step one was to cry in the car, which seemed easy enough as you chose to watch some sad edits on TikTok. It was perfect. Your mascara ran enough for the cameras to pick up on it. 

The second step was simple. You had a friend who just so happened to work at the Melbourne Law Firm. You had previously wanted to bring her lunch one day, and it worked perfectly for the plan. You knew that people were following you, which made it even better. On your way out, you took a small coffee from the lobby, and then sat in your car for a moment. 

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y/nl/n you drew stars around my scars, but down I'm bleeding

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y/nsworld guys. . . SOMEONE WAKE ME UP FROM THIS NIGHTMARE 😩

ossie&n/n THEY HIT THE PENTAGON

landonorris you want to REPLY TO MY MESSAGES??

charles_leclerc please also respond to your favorite father-in-law

maxverstappen1 answer them cause they're threatening to fly to Australia and they're going to take me with them

piastriduo she changed her username 🥺😭

y/nswife I can't be a child of divorce, it's too early

Third, Oscar would make a public appearance the day after. Some paparazzi had spotted him, making him fly the bird at the cameras. The McLaren driver quickly turned around and headed back to his car, wanting to now get home. 

Except, Oscar wasn’t expecting to be jumped the moment he wanted to get out of the house for the weekend. You had decided to go out shopping, keeping your head low. He knew he should also have kept his head low. A hand reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into a random bookstore. He had half a mind to start yelling “stranger danger,” but these were no strangers.

“Lando, Max, Charles? What is this?” 

Lando’s finger pressed into his chest, making him wince a bit. The Briton had anger in his eyes, along with Charles and Max also glaring. 

Lando hissed, “This is an intervention. Why did you divorce Y/n? She was literally your life mate. You freakin’ muppet.” 

Charles decided to put his piece in. “Did something happen? You two were so happy in Australia and Miami.” 

“Or did she do something?” the Dutchman asked, making Oscar immediately shake his head. He looked down at the floor. 

“We just decided that it wasn’t working any more. I’ve been too busy with racing and she got a new job here.” 

Lando scoffed. “Utter bullshit, that’s what that is.” 

Charles looked like a kicked puppy. “Mate. Is there no way to reconnect?” 

Oscar crossed his arms, trying to seem more intimidating. “We fought and it’s over. She already gave me the papers and they’re signed. End of story.” 

“Babe, you didn’t tell me that you were shopping here too! I found this new book . . . oh.” 

Shit. 

You blinked, looking at the three men who were cornering your husband. This was not in the 10-step plan. You were about to say something, but Lando quickly walked over to you. You expected some yelling, but he pulled you to the side. It was intense eye contact for a moment. 

“Did Oscar cheat?” 

“What?” 

He gasped. “Did you cheat?” 

You huffed. “Lando, no one cheated.” 

The kid looked like a kicked puppy, even though he was older than you. He threw his hands up in the air, pretty exasperated. 

“Why did you two get a divorce?” 

The sheer volume of his voice made a few heads turn, making you wince a bit. You tugged his arm and pulled him back to the group of three. The Briton may have dragged his feet just a bit, only because he didn’t want to have this awkward conversation with you and his teammate. 

You tilted your head just a bit. “Can we have this conversation somewhere else?” 

They shrugged and followed you, even into the car since they had all walked. And instead of getting into the back seats of your SUV, Lando, Charles, and Max squished into the first row. Their eyes did widen when your hand clasped Oscar’s as you drove off. 

Lando leaned over to Max and whispered pretty loudly, “Why are they holding hands?” 

The Dutchman “whispered” back, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s some weird kink?” 

You hit the brakes as you came to a stop light, making Lando and Max jolt. Charles sat still in his seat, already bracing himself since he wasn’t yapping. Well, at least not yet. 

You took this moment to quickly turn around and stare at them, silently telling them to shut their mouths. Oscar bit back a smile as he heard Max and Lando suck in a breath. He sighed in relief as you pulled into the garage. Ever such a gentleman, he hopped out to run around and open your door. 

He pressed a kiss against your cheek. 

“This was your idea remember?” he muttered, guiding you into the house, the three other drivers silently following you. 

You took your time to put your new books away before you went to sit on the couch. Oscar handed you a glass of water, which you thankfully took. You wanted to laugh as you watched Max, Charles, and Lando squirm. 

“You have a very lovely house,” Charles mentioned, trying to break the silence. He was successful as you gave them a soft smile. 

“Thank you, Charles. Oscar bought it for us after he signed with McLaren.” 

Lando remembered the day that the Aussie had told him about the purchase. Oscar had been so excited to truly start your life with each other. The apartment that you two had before was getting small. But now, sitting in front of you when divorce was on the line, he truly wondered what all went wrong. 

He clapped his hands, ending the conversation that you were having with Charles about paint colors. 

Lando pointed at you and Oscar. “Enough. What is going on?” 

You stifled a laugh before trying to clear the air. “Lando, there was never a real divorce. The gossip pages just ran with a rumor.” 

Max butted in. “But the law firm, your Instagram post?” 

Oscar reached over and took your hand in his. “You three know that we’re high school sweethearts, and before that, childhood friends.” 

Lando looked confused. “And what does that have anything to do with this?” 

“Mate,” Oscar started, “it has everything to do with it. Because we’ve been together since we were younger, there wasn’t time for normal teenager things like breakups or heart break.” 

“So,” you added, “we,” Oscar gave you a look, “I thought it might be fun to pretend to get a divorce.” 

No one said a word.

Lando then fell to his knees and kissed your carpet. “Thank God. I don’t think I could handle a sad Oscar every single weekend.” 

You patted him on the shoulder. “I don’t think I’d ever want to live without him. And I couldn’t pass the opportunity to not travel around the world.” 

Your husband gasped a bit while he put his hand on his heart. “You wound me woman. I knew you were with me for my money.” 

You wiggled your eyebrows. “But of course, darling. What else would you be good for?” 

Max put his head in his hands. “They’re made for each other. This is gross.” 

You quickly stood from your couch. “Well, I think it’s time for dinner. Ossie?” 

The man in question blushed at the nickname, while the other three cooed at them. He turned to give them a stink eye, effectively shutting them up. 

As you started to get some pans out for dinner, you found yourself with a human backpack. Oscar pressed his face into your neck, sighing deeply. There weren’t many moments that the two of you got to be domestic like this. And it would have been romantic, except for Lando’s squealing as he looked around at the pictures on the wall. 

“Osc, is this you in grade school? Where did the cheeks go, mate?” 

“Lando, get away from the pictures.” 

“But Osc, you were such a cute kid. What happened?” 

“You happened.” 

“Osc!” 

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oscarpiastri she's mine for the rest of time ❤️

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ossie&n/n WAAAARRRR IISSSS OOOVVEERRRRR

y/nsworld I have never been more thankful for rumors

y/nl/n ossieeeee 🥺

y/nl/n I love youuuuuuu (you're never getting rid of meeee)

oscarpiastri I love you too (pls change your user back)

y/nl/n i have to wait 2 weeks (stupid instagram)

landonorris so glad to see you in the paddock 🙌

y/nl/n good to see you too loser

piastriupdates my parents ☺️

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Second chances ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Lucifer didn't think he would ever have the chance at love again, but then he met you and got to know you after the destruction of the Hotel.

Pairing : Lucifer x Reader

Word count : 2239 Words

Genre : Fluff, Romance

Warnings ➵ Spoilers for EP 8!!

a/n : I love him sm, he deserves the world, a big hug and a smooch to the cheek

Also legit the first part of this barely has any interactions but eh- idk where I was going with this-

Might make this into a series, idk yet.. Also definitely one of my more boring and bad works sadly..

┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡

Coming back to the hotel from an outing in the city, you were met with chaos. Everyone was running around, Razzle and Dazzle were hanging up a banner reading > Welcome Daddy < what was happening? Ducking your head as Sir Pentious darts past you, before making your way over to Charlie.

"Sweetheart, what's happening?" Laying your hand softly on Charlie's shoulder, her hair flies around as she comes to face you. You were one of the first people to join the hotel back then, having grown close to Charlie over that time, she viewed you as a parent figure, while you viewed her like a daughter. "My dad is coming and everything has to be perfect! He has to be assured he can trust me and help me!" That explained a lot, especially why Charlie was so stressed. Pulling her into a hug now, your hand softly gliding over her head, as you mutter how she should not stress too much and that she is doing amazing. Noticing how her body was relaxing against your own, you were glad to have calmed her down at least a little bit.

After helping the others a bit more, it was finally time. Charlie swept her hands on her jacket, before opening the door. A bright choice sounding, as Lucifer pulls his daughter into a tight hug. Before saying hello to Keekee, Razzle and Dazzle. He was.. different than everyone probably though.

Watching Alastor talk to Lucifer now, they for sure could not stand the other one, this would be fun. Charlie now introduced Vaggie to him, which made you smile a little bit when Lucifer took her into his arms. The rest was quickly introduced before Charlie pulled you beside her. "And this is Y/N, Dad! They really helped me a lot already, of course like anyone else here too!" Fumbling around with her words a bit, you softly lay your hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We know what you mean dear, Charlie is an amazing girl, we are really proud of her." Your eyes were on Charlie, before greeting Lucifer correctly.

It was quiet for a second before a crash could be heard. Oh shit.. For a few minutes, the banter between Alastor and Lucifer continued on, making you sigh as you sat down beside Angel. This way going great huh? Vaggie was also at the end of her nerves right now. As they were seemingly coming to an end finally, the doors slammed open and some short blonde lady walked in as if she owned this place. Being introduced to her soon, you decide to tag along with Charlie and the others to show her dad around.

You were simply following the others, listening to Charlie nervously ramble on, only glancing over your shoulder for a second as Husker stopped Alastor, but you decided to not give it another thought.

Arriving at the balcony, you and Vaggie stand back, as Charlie and her dad talk. But too soon they were interrupted as some debris was thrown into the hotel and shook the whole building. Rushing through the portal, you guys are back in the foyer of the hotel, looking around for an answer. Mimzy the woman from before finally explained what was happening, you rolled your eyes, how amazing. Too busy with making sure you saw everyone safe, you weren't seeing the debris falling your way. Before you knew it you were swept off your feet, as Lucifer saved you from being smashed by the debris, setting you down on your feet again softly, as his wings disappear again.

"You see now Charlie what I mean? Those sinners destroy everything! They fall into your home and destroy it, they aren't grateful for anything!" Talking to Charlie now, as Alastor finally decided to step in and fight off those damned loan sharks, before telling the woman to disappear. Watching Charlie and her dad now, as you were standing beside Alastor, a frown visible on your face. She worked so hard for this, why couldn't he believe in her? Though quickly everything explained itself and both of them seemed to finally makeup, a tear slipping from your eye from how beautiful this moment was.

"All right.. I'll get you that meeting but.. once in heaven you're alone I.. can't come with you." Lucifer told Charlie, before disappearing in a red cloud.

That was now a month ago. Right now everyone was getting ready for that damned extermination. Sadly Charlie's conversation with Heaven didn't do anything, on top of that the tension in the whole group grew, with Vaggie being an old exterminator. But that was all over now, as the whole group decided to have one last drink the night before the big battle. You were talking with Husker, as Angel was with Cherri, Alastor and Niffty looking upon everyone and Charlie with Vaggie nowhere to be seen. And of course, Sir Pentious trying to strike up a conversation with Cherri. You hoped everything would go well tomorrow and that no one would die.

The morning arrived, and everyone was gathered outside to protect the hotel, to protect Charlie's dream. Everyone was ready for this.

Almost everything seemed to go down in a wink, the hotel was in shambles, Alastor was missing - assumingly dead, Sir Pentious gave his life for the group and Adam was killed. Now the rebuild of the hotel was in full swing, everyone was helping, even Cherri who wasn't even a resident of the hotel yet. Lucifer also stayed to help his daughter and somehow convinced her to let him have a room too and stay with the group.

"Have you seen Charlie? Some new shipments came." The blonde was approaching you now, his coat and hat off, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Raising to your feet from where you were kneeling to work on some nails, you swept some sweat from your forehead before turning to Lucifer. "She and Vaggie went to town real quick for some errands, but she told me where to put them, let me show you." Laying the hammer down on one of the many workbenches, you go accept the shipments, before showing Lucifer the way.

You and him had quite a few conversations over the last few days, with you being a parent figure for Charlie and him being her father, you two talked a lot about how well she is doing. What you didn't notice were the fleeting glances the king of hell threw your way every now and then.

"She told me to just put it here." Opening the door to a little cabinet now on the first floor of the hotel in the foyer. This was the first thing finished, right now the works were on the upper rooms. Putting down the box you were carrying on the shelf, Lucifer followed where you put the other box, before thanking you for helping him out. "Soo.. The hotel is coming together rather nicely huh?" Looking over to you with his red eyes now, as you close the door, a bit confused he was striking up a conversation right now. "Yeah, everyone is doing so amazingly, I'm glad we got so much help.. If we don't look at Niffty punching holes in the new floor trying to catch roaches.." At least some things were apparently not changing and stayed the same.

"Say.. when the hotel is finished would you perhaps.. you know.. maybe.. be interested in a date?" Stopping in your tracks now, you blink a few times. Did you just hear correctly? The Lucifer Morningstar, the king of hell just asked you for a date? Turning your head around now, your cheeks slowly become a crimson-red color. Looking at him, he didn't really look different, his cheeks red, as he was sheepishly playing with his sleeves. "You want to go on a date with me?" Raising his eyes to meet yours, he simply nods. "To be honest with you, you caught my eye the day I first came here but.. then all this happened and we never really got to talk and I was worried you would think I'm weird for asking, so I thought I should maybe wait a bit-" He was rambling on, probably from how nervous he was to ask you out. After his ex-wife left him, he didn't really date anyone after that, so it's been a while since he has ever asked someone for a date. "I would love to. Thank you for asking me." Laying your hand softly over his, giving it a soft reassuring squeeze to tell him not to worry too much. Sadly the moment was cut short, when Angel called for you, having someone questions about about paint.

Lucifer's eyes followed you now, the smile on his face not being able to be hidden now, fist-pumping the air happily over how he finally asked you. Charlie came back that moment and looked a little bit more than worried at her father, but overall no new behavior from him.

The hotel was soon finished, Alastor also came back, making at least Charlie relieved that he was still alive, Husker and Lucifer didn't seem so pleased with that fact, but they would get over it.

So now, it was time for your date with Lucifer. Charlie was thrilled when she heard you would be going on a date with her dad, at first you were rather worried about how she would react, but she was happy that her dad was trying to find love again. Making sure your hair was sitting right and your clothes were wrinkle-free, when a knock sounded at your door. Taking one last breath, you open it and are met with Lucifer. His hat was gone and he was wearing a white suit, similar to what he normally wore but more suitable for a fancy dinner - as fancy as a dinner in hell can be.

"You look amazing! Oh my! Look at you!" Lucifer was throwing compliments at you left and right, before he caught himself again, straightened his jacket, and then extended his arm for you to take. "Thank you, you also look amazing tonight Lucifer." Taking his arm now, he guides you two to the elevators which take you down to the foyer. Charlie was trying subtly to look at you two, but failing miserably. "Charlie is staring at us and almost crying.." Whispering to Lucifer now, he just nods, making sure to throw Vaggie a begging look to take care of Charlie, as you two leave the hotel. He decided to take you to the more finer side of Pentagram City, where rather expensive shops and restaurants were and which were less bloody.

"Here we are! It's the finest one I know around here!" Leading you inside, it was a big place. The restaurant had a fountain in the middle and had many plants all around the wide place. Marble floors, stone walls were adorned with gold elements and gold was seen all throughout the place. This was definitely an expensive place by the looks of it. A waiter leading you to a table no, you were sure was the best one in the whole restaurant. It was by a wide window, having a good look down the city, in the distance you could even see the hotel slightly, especially the big sign reading Hazbin Hotel.

"This place is beautiful but.. it looks rather expensive, are you sure this is okay?" Of course you knew who Lucifer was and he could basically afford anything in this whole city and do anything he wanted, you just wanted to make sure. Assuring you now that you shall not worry about something like that. Ordering food and enjoying the meal together, it was a nice evening. Everything goes by smoothly and you and Lucifer finally get around to know each other better. Sadly the dinner was over too quickly, Lucifer leading you back to the hotel now, while telling you a story from Charlie's childhood, which made you giggle. He truly was a gentleman and had a pure heart, he cared so much about Charlie.

"So.. would you.. repeat this another time? I mean only if you also enjoyed it! I of course did enjoy it! I mean you're amazing and-" Standing in front of your room now, you silence him with a soft kiss to the cheek, before looking at him softly fixing his suit. "I would love to Luci, I enjoyed this evening with you alot." Raising your eyes again to meet his, you can't help but let out a giggle at his expression. Eyes blown wide, mouth open and cheeks blazing red. "Great! Yeah! Woah! Me too! Especially the food, poah that was amazing! And the place was really worth it! Was it to your liking? I really hope so because-" Pulling him down by his suit now, your lips softly meeting his, eyes closed, before seperating again as you look at him. "Sorry.. You were rambling so nervously.. Please don't worry, I mean it when I say loved tonight.. Now sleep well Luci." Planting another kiss to his cheek, you enter your room, closing the door behind yourself.

You can help but smile at his little giggles as he skips down the hallway to his own room now. He was something, but you were looking forward to more dates that would follow this one.

[ihavethedreamies]

Only You | Bang Chan

Bang Chan - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: King! Bang Chan x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Breeding Kink (a bit), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Big Dick! Chan (duh)

Summary: You are a nobleman's daughter and your father is struggling to find you a husband. The king refuses to marry all of the women brought to him and will not take any concubines. You end up meeting each other.

Author's Note: Oh boy! Here is the first part my dudes. I wanted to have this out sooner but I'm living with my uncle with my parents right now and so I don't have the same freedom to hole away in my room all day like I would prefer. Also can't really write smut in the living room with your dad like two seats away from you.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.

P.S. I only need to write the smut part for Lee Know's and Changbin's parts right now and then I can do the others after. Hopefully I will have one if not both of those up tomorrow. Hopefully.

Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Lee Know's <-

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

Sighing deeply for a third time, you lazily turned the page of your book, head tilting to rest on your shoulder. Your braid fell over your shoulder, the purple daenggi draping down and covering the characters in the book. Didn't matter, you weren't really reading it anyway. Already had several times. It was nearly impossible to get books you hadn't already read several times, or things that were actually interesting to you, because your father wouldn't let you get them. Most of the books not directed toward women that you had, you more or less smuggled into your house. Because of that, it was hard to get more, and so you were once again bored with your choices. A delicate breeze wafted in through the open window, a small bird flittering down to rest on the sill. You looked over its various shades of brown feathers and you wondered if you could ever get a book for studying birds. Probably possible, but not probable. Men don't want women that know more than them, that's why you can't keep a suitor. Your father's voice echoed in your head, and you rolled your eyes. Unfortunately, though, it seemed he was right. You had many suitors out of the sons of noblemen, but none of them stayed around too long when your conversations turned from dainty and feminine matters to things that actually made them think. Looking out to the sky, you wondered if there was anyone out there at all that wouldn't mind your learned state.

 ~~~

On a day you were actually able to go out, you were grateful it was your brother who could go with you. You both were wandering the various seller's stands and storefronts, only just glancing at most things. If you had a guard escorting you, you wouldn't be able to smuggle another book home, but your brother would help you. As you pretended to look over various different earrings, you cast a glance from under your sseugaechima to where your brother was at the book seller. Rummaging through what they had, he held a few up to look closer at the contents before putting them back down. Must all be fiction… Looking back at the wares before you, you nodded to the shopkeeper and moved on, instead looking at some shoes. You were closer then to your brother, enough that you could see when he held a book up toward you, pretending to rest it on his shoulder as he continued looking, like he was reserving it. When you caught his side glance, you shook your head no. Already had it. He sniffed, putting it back, and kept looking. As you moved on yourself, across the way, you watched a young nobleman sidle up next to your brother. He was a great deal shorter; it almost made you giggle, but you tried to remain inconspicuous.

"Oh, my lord, the book you were looking for arrived!" The book seller slipped inside his shop, coming back with a book you had never seen anything like before.

"I managed to get in contact with the Arab trader and he got it here all the way from the far west!" The book seller smiled wide, and you had fully turned around at that point, your brother looking over his shoulder at you.

"Thank you." The man smiled, handing over a significant string of mun before turning to leave. You weren't able to react fast enough, and he caught you looking at him. Well, not him, but the book he was holding. It was bound in what looked like leather and you had never seen writing like it.

"Wait, my lord, this as well!" The shopkeeper reached under his stall and the man went back, taking the locally bound book from him.

"Might be hard to read without the translation." The young lord smiled and then went to leave again, pointedly looking right at you as he did, a small smirk on his face.

"Let's follow him." You whispered to your brother, yanking him down to your level.

"Are you sure? He paid a lot for that, he's not just going to give it to you, and we don't have that kind of money on us."

"I just want to look at it, come on." You hissed out, following after the man before he got too far out of view. You heard your brother sigh dramatically, but he hurried after you anyway, making sure he didn't lose sight of you.

You finally managed to catch up with the man in a small courtyard behind a restaurant not yet open. He was standing at the edge of the stream, watching it, the two books held in his grasp as he rested his arms behind his back. Right as your brother caught up with you, the man turned around, a playful smile on his face. It was then you realized how gorgeous he was.

"Interested in this?" He turned toward you, holding the book up, and in your excitement, you dropped your sseugaechima, the garment fluttering to the ground.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, grabbing the head covering. You had moved so fast, you were already standing in front of the man, ogling the book. Even though he was probably four or even five chon shorter than your brother, he was still nearly a head taller than you.

"Aigo, put this back on." Your brother draped the garment back over your head, dragging you back by the shoulders a few steps.

"Wait!" You reached for the book, not having gotten to touch it, but your brother stepped in front of you. Stupid societal chauvinism.

"Apologies, my lord, but she's…intense about her hobby." You rolled your eyes behind your sibling.

"This isn't a normal book." The other man said, and you rolled your eyes harder. Obviously, that's why you wanted it!

"It's all the way from Dogil." Huh? Where?

"If she wants to look at it, she can." You shoved your brother out of the way, so hard he not just stumbled, but fell on his butt. The man held the book out to you and with shaky hands you took it. The text was so incredibly foreign, and when you flipped the book open, it didn't even look handwritten. Then again, you couldn't be sure since it was such a foreign script. Little symbols sat in the top corner of each page, and the words were horizontal rather than vertical. Each little letter was so small, the book cramped with lines. It was heavy too.

"This goes with it." The other man held the translation book up and snatched it from his hands without thinking.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, hurrying to get off the ground.

"She's fine." You moved toward a bench and sat down, opening the translation on top of the foreign text. Though, it wasn't a direct translation, just a catalog of what each word meant. It would take time to fully translate it.

"C-could I translate it fully?" You looked up at the man, your sseugaechima falling off your head again. He smiled and your heart skipped a beat, but you weren't sure if it was because he smiled, or what the smile meant.

"I would rather not just give it to you. What if you don't give it back?" His tone was slightly teasing. You deflated then and he held back a chuckle.

"You know, I have a lot of far western texts that I don't have the time to translate myself. You could come to my home and do it for me?"

"Wait-" Your brother's tone grew stern and you looked between them, the other man holding his hand up to stop the other's words.

"Rather improper I know. Though, the King can get away with quite a bit." The man was smirking, and your eyes widened. What?

"Y-You're-" You met your brother's gaze and you both fell to your knees before him, bowing so your foreheads touched your hands. Immediately, you realized how brazen your actions were. You were doomed.

"Don't worry about it." He waved you both off and you stood, head still bowed, avoiding looking at his face. Instead, you glanced back at the books. You wondered if the book seller even realized who he was. Your brother sat up, but remained on one knee, if he stood, he would be higher than the king. That was not allowed.

"What is your name? Who is your father?" He asked and you swallowed hard, trying to get words out. You spoke your name and family clan, as well as your father's name and rank. If he told your father about what happened, you would never be allowed to touch another book.

"Your age?

"Twenty-two."

"You're unmarried?" He raised a brow, and you nodded sheepishly. Reaching around your back to tug on the end of your braid, hanging down to signify your marital status.

"Your name?" He nodded to your brother, and he told him.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind showing me to your home. I would like to converse with your father." Oh, no.

~~~

Nervously pacing around your room, even down the halls through the building of the estate you inhabited, you wondered what was happening. You had scurried away like a scared mouse once you all returned to your home, looking behind you to the books held by the King. The King! Geez, you felt like you just escaped with your life. You heard your mother being summoned to go to your father and it had been nearly an hour of them talking.

"(Y/N)." You heard a whisper from outside your bedroom window as you wandered around it. You opened the shutters and your brother's head barely could look over the sill from where he stood on the narrow edge of the building's platform base.

"What's happening?" You whispered back.

"A servant just brought them our family registry."

"What?" Why the heck would they need that?! Unless…

"You think he's going to court me?" Your legs felt week, you weren't sure what to make of it. Your father had desperately wanted you married, but not enough to submit you to the palace. A life of luxury and prestige wasn't actually very safe. Most adversaries tended to target the women closest to the king since they were easier targets. You knew the King was unwed, and that the palace officials were just as fed up with him as your father was with you. Sure, you would rather marry someone for love, but that was hard to do as a noble. But if you did��that meant you could have access to the King's library. Was that his plan to let you translate his foreign books without it being improper? Honestly, you were fine with it. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If marrying the king gave you access to even more knowledge and learning, than you would happily do it.

~~~

After the long meeting, the King left, and your mother came to inform you of the results. You were right, he wanted you to be his wife. But marrying a king to be the queen was much more intense than just being a concubine. Sure, the king had a lot of say, but so did his ministers and the Queen Dowager, his mother. Normally there was a long selection process, but instead you were brought to the palace and thoroughly analyzed by palace officials. They interviewed you rather extensively, then finally, his mother entered. After more questions, she left with the officials and you were left to sit in the pavilion, looking at the water, uncomfortable in your nicest hanbok ensemble. All of your fanciest accessories were in your hair, on your goreum was a heavy norigae, and heavy jade earrings sat in your ears. You twisted the jade ring on your finger in nervousness, feeling like you were waiting for hours. Soon though, the Queen Dowager reentered along with a few handmaidens and a eunuch. You had been approved of.

~~~

A grand dowry was sent to your family's estate, and in return your belongings were sent in as well. You were moved into a palace set aside for the future queen, and you were beyond grateful that your chest of books made it to your new home. Waiting for the actual ceremony and coronation, you were put through hours of etiquette training and lessons. Over the short time it took for you to learn everything, and have the ceremony and coronation performed, the King had spent a considerable amount of time with you. Every minute he could spare. He didn't want you, nor himself, to marry a stranger. Never having been in love, you were sure your feelings were either quite similar if not the predecessor for love. In a fleeting whisper he told you his name was Chan, of course it was part of his birth name rather than what he was crowned king with. He preferred you call him that though, even if you only could in private. When he could, he would bring a few of his foreign books for you to look at, but he said there wasn't time for you start the translations before all of the ceremonies. Chan seemed just as passionate about knowledge as you were, and that made you fall harder. And it appeared to work that way for him as well.

The day before the wedding, as he left before the time was improper, he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth with his soft lips. Your face blossomed red you were sure, and he chuckled gently to himself as he left.

The wedding itself was…a mess. Well, figuratively and only to you. You felt like you were being directed as a puppet going through so many specific rites and rituals. The most nerve-wracking part of the whole thing was being before so many people. Your tutor was proud you had learned all of your etiquette so well and you were ninety percent sure you did everything just right. By the time night fell, you were beyond exhausted. You weren't sure if you were more excited about your marriage, which felt more real thanks to your blooming feelings, or the future translation work. It was nice though that your love of scholarly pursuits didn't turn him away like all of your other potential suitors.

Finally, though, everything was more or less complete. You were wandering through the large room of the king's quarters, everything even fancier than where you had been. You picked at the white fabric of your sokchima, feeling naked despite being completely covered. Your hair was still in a chignon, the golden decorative binyeo holding it up made your head feel heavy. It was strange to have your hair up like that, but you were going to have to get used to it. For some reason, it felt nice to have that weight, signifying you were married, you honestly didn't want to take it out as much as you did. So, it stayed. You had bathed, rather, been washed by maids before going to the king's quarters. You presumed he too was washing up, and the longer he took, the more nervous you got. Finally, the side door that led further into the palace where the bath hall was, opened. Your heart thudded against your rib cage as you saw the King enter, also in white garments. He no longer had his headdress on, only the manggeon he wore under his crown was there. You wondered how long his hair was when down.

"My Queen." He smiled and you bit your lip, looking around almost like you were checking to see if anyone was around.

"What are you looking for, (Y/N)?" He stepped closer, hand going to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. All the lessons that had been drilled into you made you want to look away, but if he was okay with it…

"We're really alone?" Not even his Eunuch was there, he followed him everywhere as per his job description.

"Yes, my love." Your breath hitched, the term of affection hitting your heart, and you stepped just a bit closer.

"W-we-" He stepped once more, his lips placing a delicate peck on your forehead. Still not able to get any words out, his kisses moved to your cheekbone, the side of your mouth, then his hand cupped your jaw, tipping your head up. Your eyes met his and you couldn't keep yours from flitting to his lips. Chan smirked, and you gasped as he kissed you, hard. Your teeth clacked against each other at the force and your head swam, trying desperately to match his pace. You hadn't been kissed before, not like that. Chan himself had given you a few small pecks, but this was different. He was claiming you.

His strong hands gripped your waist, one sneaking down your back to pull you closer, the other sneaking up the ties of your sokchima. The hand on your back went even lower, gripping the flesh of your butt and you huffed, Chan's tongue sneaking its way in your mouth. When he withdrew, you heaved in breaths, heart racing and with a final tug, your sokchima fell to the floor, leaving you bare. You shivered, goosebumps rising on your skin, but his next actions distracted you from the embarrassment of being bare. He undid the ties of his own garments and as the white fabric pooled at his feet, your eyes rapidly danced over him. You were convinced he was molded directly by the deity of sex, because he was gorgeous.

"Oh." You sighed and he huffed a laugh, moving closer, taking your hands in his, and bringing them to the ties of his sokbaji. Your hands brushed over him through the cloth, and you froze.

"A-are you…?"

"No, love. But," his hands ran over the bare skin of your back, pulling you to him, your naked breasts pressing to him.

"I'll get there." Chan whispered in your ear, then he ran his tongue around the ridge, sucking on your earlobe. You whimpered, turning your head to allow him access, fingers clenching the hem on his pants. His lips then moved to your neck, laying searing kisses on the flesh, strong fingers digging into your skin, and when you were pulled even closer, you felt his cock hardening in his pants.

"Come with me, my love." He pulled away and you pouted in disappointment, making him laugh. The room spun as he yanked you to him, lightly shoving you on the raised bed. You huffed, then squeaked when he grabbed your ankles, yanking to the edge of the platform, kneeling on the floor below.

"W-Wait, Chan-!" You tried to close your legs, hide yourself from him, but he was too strong, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread.

"So cute." He hummed and your entire body jerked, back arching as you felt his tongue swipe through your folds, the sensation almost overwhelming. It was hard to get words out since you could barely take in air, your body immediately catching on fire, blood boiling. You heard him hum as he tasted you, and you flinched when his nose brushed your clit.

"C-Chan, it's too much!" You shuddered, not sure how to handle the sensation.

"I need to get you ready, love, I don't want to hurt you." He finished his statement by wiggling his tongue inside you. The foreign sensation made you clench, and he rubbed your tense thighs with his thumbs.

"Relax, pretty girl." You tried to do as he asked, taking measured breaths, whimpering when his tongue left you, flicking your button again. Heat pooled in your belly, rising fast and you logically knew what was coming, but had never felt it before.

"I-I…fuck!" Your head tossed back, and he groaned at the crass word leaving you. Chan kissed your clit and that sent you over the edge, wind roaring in your ears with your pulse, and you barely registered him filling you with a finger.

"You're so fucking tight sweetheart." The curse word riled you up more than it even did when you said it for him. He helped your ride out the orgasm with that finger, each press against your back wall seeming to draw out your climax. Finally, the waves dulled, then stopped, and you finally recognized his finger inside you. Because he did it when he did, it didn't hurt, but it felt weird.

"Oh, you're so good." He smiled wide, his normal warn grin was hot with lust. You mewled when he started to pump his finger, the wet squelch of your slick and release seemed to be louder than anything else.

"That got you nice and wet for me, but you're too tight." His thumb barely brushed your clit and your pussy clenched, body jerking again, it almost hurt.

"Sorry, love." He continued with the single digit and at some point, he decided to continue and you let out a shuddering breath when he added a second. That…didn't hurt per se, the slight burn of the stretch was somehow more pleasurable than painful, and you wondered how much his dick would make you sting.

"Oh, oh my." You tried to hold back a whiny moan when his fingers wiggled and spread, getting you further prepared, the same pleasurable feeling starting to build back.

"Ah!" Chan added a third finger, and you lifted your head to look at him, one knee resting on the bed so he could kneel over you. Eyes flitting down, you noticed the tent in his white pants, and you swallowed hard. You didn't have any metric to go by since you had never been with or even seen a man naked, but-

"That won't fit." You whimpered, not even seeing him bare yet. Chan huffed a surprised laugh, looking at himself.

"I promise it will." His fingers crooked up again, hitting some intense spot inside you and you shivered at the sudden intensity.

"N-no, no, no!" You whined when he removed his fingers, the pleasure had begun to crest and even if it was overwhelming, it did feel good.

"Hold on, love, I'll fill you back up." You propped on your elbows to watch him, the tie of his sokbaji coming undone by his fingers, then the garment fell. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

"Won't fit." You gasped out and he had a hard time controlling his smug grin.

"Let's see about that." He scooped you up in his arms, moving you up the bed so your head could rest on the pillow. The cool silk of the bedding did nothing to quell the fire Chan had set on your skin, especially not when he propped himself over you.

"I love you." He leaned down, nose rubbing over yours and you giggled at the innocent gesture.

"I love you too." Your hands cupped his face, and he kissed you again, gentler than the first. Distracting you with the kiss, he hitched one of your knees over his elbow, his free arm bringing his hands back to your slick cunt. His fingers ran through your arousal, then he pumped his fist over his hard cock, bringing the fat head to your entrance. Chan pulled back from the kiss, bringing your hands up to his shoulders.

"Dig your nails in if you have to." You should have taken it as a warning, not really sure what he meant. When his cock breached your core, the heated burn seared through not just your cunt, but all the way through you. Your back arched, and your mouth hung open in a quiet scream. You couldn't tell whether it hurt or was such an intense pleasure your body malfunctioned. His cock pressed deeper, and you could feel his pulse inside you.

"So tight, fuck, hmm, love your just perfect." He groaned, relishing the sting of your nails digging into his skin. After what felt like an eternity, he bottomed out, the head of his dick kissing your womb.

"Y-you're in my throat." You gasped, trying not to clench around him too much, cunt stinging but weeping, a drop of your slick hitting the bedding.

"Does it hurt?" His hand brushed some sweat-dampened strands of hair from your brow, and you shuddered through some breaths.

"I-I don't know." You had never felt anything like it before, obviously, and your brain seemed to be stopping and starting again over and over. He was being so patient, letting you adjust, but he shifted his weight differently, changing the angle slightly and the sting faded, pleasure rising, and you couldn't get words out again. He must have noticed the change in your gummy walls' pulsing, because he grinded into you slightly and, stronger than before, you came.

"Woah." Chan forced himself to breathe through your orgasm, the tight vice of your pussy nearly sending him over the edge and gushes of your slick shined on your skin as well as his. Your vision dotted with stars and your head swam, you finally were able to gasp for air, panting as you returned to reality.

"Are you okay, love?" He stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you held his hand to your face with your own. You nodded, swallowing a buildup of saliva.

"Y-yes, you…you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Please~!" Your like whimper heightened into a moan as he pulled back just a bit, going slowly back in to make sure it didn't hurt. It didn't. Sure, it felt like he was carving his cock through you, but it was more than good.

"Tell me, sweet, if I hurt you." The next thrust, he pulled back a bit further, and back in harder.

"Please, Chan, you- fuck!" He had picked up the pace just a bit, still going fairly slow, but the stretch of his fat cock was more than enough stimulation.

"D-don't-"

"Don't what, love?"

"Don't…oh, fuck, please, don't stop. Just-!" Your toes curled, throwing your head back, nails digging into the bedding as he pulled out about halfway, then buried inside you hard. He sat up more, slinging your other leg over his elbow as well, rolling his hips against yours. Chan's eyes skated all over you, beautiful and bare below him, and when he got to your face he groaned. Your eyes were hazy, mouth open, drool pooling from the corners of your lips. You had never felt anything even close to the pleasure he was wreaking on you. You couldn't think, and you seemed to lose strength in your body, the crest of another orgasm building.

"Shit- can't hold back anymore love." He grunted and you didn't have enough available thought process to react. He moved his hands to your thighs, pinning your knees up by your shoulders, then he pulled his fat cock out nearly all the way, and started to pound into you. Tears rose in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling, little squeals of delight forced out of you with each thrust and your cunt spasmed. Chan just thundered through your orgasm, not stopping or slowing and your eyes rolled back.

"Fuck, you're just perfect love." He huffed a laugh, "oh, I can't wait to fuck you full!" All you could focus on was the heat of his dick and how much hotter your womb would feel full of his cum.

"Pl-please! Chan, please, fuck!" You gasped, his pace growing unsteady, and he finally fucked as deep as he could, hot ropes of cum filling you and painting your cunt white. Your belly was on fire and a combined glob of both of your releases dripped out from where your bodies met. As Chan panted, looking down at your fucked out state, he smiled.

"You're my wife now, only you."

Daenggi - the ribbon that was tied around a unmarried girl's braid. Sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over their heads. Mun - Joseon Era Korean currency Chon - historical unit of measurement, close to an inch. Dogil - Korean word for Germany, might not be completely accurate for the time. Hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. Goreum - the ties that fastened the top of a hanbok. Norigae - accessories that were tied to the goreum of women's handboks Sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. Binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. Manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place. Sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually…

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Taglist: @huldrelokken, @estella-novella, @astrobebba, @kayleefriedchicken, @rhonnie23, @minghaosimp

[giuseppe-yuki]

emotional support animal

yuki tsunoda x bunny shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 1.3k

warnings: a few curse words, a little violence

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: you're labelled as yuki's "emotional support animal" until you become a little more than that

picture credits from pinterest :)

“ughhh!” yuki groans dramatically into the decorative pillow. as he lies face down horizontally across the sofa, he kicks his feet like a baby throwing a tantrum. you sit stool on the other side of his drivers room, sipping a sugar-free red bull, unimpressed. outside, the sun has just risen above the skyline, marking the beginning of the day.

“get up!!” you scold, “michael says you have to be out of the room and onto the track in the next ten minutes- or else!” 

face still buried in the pillow, he mutters out a response. “do i have to? when i have workouts, especially in the morning, it just ruins my whole day.” 

“um, yes?” you say incredulously. how michael italiano ever got yuki to do anything physically demanding, you would never know. “besides, you’re not even working out today- you’re just doing your track walk around red bull ring.” 

your boyfriend turns around on the sofa, hair ruffled and team kit fairly wrinkled. he stares at the ceiling for a second, as if contemplating something. suddenly, he pushes himself up off the couch and shuffles towards you. “what if… you do that bunny thing you usually do so i can carry you around the track? that way you can come with me on the track walk, and it’ll make it less boring.” 

to an outsider, it sounds like a loving boyfriend wanting to be with his girlfriend. but you knew yuki too well. “you’re only saying that so you have an excuse to leave if michael asks you to go to workout after the track walk, aren’t you?”

he pouts. “no i’m not! i swear” he says unconvincingly.

“okayyy, baby” you reply. "whatever you say." you take one last sip of your drink and turn towards the door. “let’s go.” 

by the time yuki arrived at the meeting spot with michael, you had already fallen asleep in his arms. it was quite comfortable actually, with yuki’s hand cupped protectively underneath your paws, body in loaf position, and head tucked into his side. since it was still early into the day, the heat radiating off his body felt so good against the chilly morning air. his arms rocked you gently while he walked, which only gave you more of a reason to fall asleep. 

it wasn’t until he giggled a little too hard about a joke that michael made about bottoming that you finally awoke from your slumber. 

yuki notices you blinking your sleepy eyes immediately and smiles at you in his arms. he leans forwards, gives you a kiss top off your fluffy head, and whispers into your soft ears, “fell asleep huh? And you were the one getting mad at me for trying to take a nap on the couch!” 

you nibble a little bit on his shirt to show your annoyance, but he just giggles and gives you a few pats on the head.

michael looks onto the scene with an amused look on his face. “i originally wasn’t gonna ask, but what’s up with the bunny?”

“err, well shes my…emotional support animal.” yuki says, giving you a few extra pats for emphasis. 

emotional support animal? that was a new one.

yuki carried you everywhere the rest of race weekend, after the news of his new "emotional support animal" circled around the paddock. people approached you both often, causing you to reach a point of mini stardom with the paddock staff and younger fans, with guenther steiner asking to pet you, suzie wolff wondering if she could hold you, and little girls dressed in full ferrari attire requesting a picture of you. honestly, you didn’t mind it one bit, because you just had to sit in yuki’s arms and you could get free pets and head scratches the whole day. he even brought you to the media pen to keep him company. it wasn’t until a vcarb fan event that it started getting a little rough.

“yuki, may i pet your bunny?” a sweet looking little boy says, approaching him. yuki had placed you on the ground because was mostly signing posters and taking pictures, so you hopped closer towards the boy, as if saying yes. he throws a glance at his mother, who is chatting up your boyfriend about the results that weekend, and then promptly throws himself at you. you hop back in surprise, but he has already caught you in his arms. he roughly pets you, and even yanks on your ears, hard. 

you let out a squeak of pain, and that’s when yuki immediately snatches you back from the boy’s arms. he holds you close against his chest, comforting you. “do not do that.” he chastises the boy. his mother, realizing what he has done, grabs the boy quickly, apologizes, and rushes off. 

if that boy held you for a second more, you surely would have bit his finger off, you thought to yourself. you hesitantly let others pet you, but stayed on high alert. it wouldn’t happen again, right? 

this time, a man in full vcarb attire stumbles his way towards yuki. in his hand is bloody mary, topped with a piece of celery and lemon on the rim of the glass. he’s clearly a little drunk. still, your boyfriend smiles at him kindly and offers to sign the cap that the fan is wearing. the drunk fan yanks his cap off of his head in rush to give it to him, accidentally sloshing some of his drink onto you.

are you actually kidding me right now? you think, a little pissed off. that’s gonna be so hard to get off of my fur!

you turn around, thumping your foot, and nibbles on the fan’s shoelaces as a warning. the fan immediately notices this, and roughly knocks you aside with his boot. 

your eyes widen, and you scurry back behind yuki’s feet.

yuki immediately drops his sharpie and the fan’s hat and picks you up. “bro, what the fuck? you did not just kick my bunny,” he says angrily. “she was chewing your shoelaces because you just spilled your drink all over her!” he points to the red liquid and piece of celery leaf clearly stuck to the side of your fur.

“it doesn’t matter; just sign my hat. i paid a lot of money to be here!” the fan responds, nonchalantly. “besides, its probably some stupid wild bunny that climbed out of the trees from around the circuit. why do you care anyways?”

sensing an issue, daniel, who was signing caps next to yuki, stood up and called security over. fans in line had their phones out, recording the drama that was unfolding. you shrink back into yuki’s arms, a little offended from the fan's words.

before yuki could respond, the man reaches forward and pushes him, hard. your boyfriend stumbles back a few steps, but catches himself. 

you gasp internally. oh there is no way that guy just touched my man like that! you launch yourself out of yuki’s arms and directly at the man, claws out. you scratch and bite every surface you could reach. by the time security arrived, the man had a big cut on his face, multiple bite marks and a torn up shirt. 

when news of the incident circulated around the paddock, you were rebranded as yuki’s “attack bunny.” you laughed when you found out that night, lying horizontal on the plush hotel bed on yuki. you hold out your phone to his face level, showing him the new article on your phone.

“look baby, i’m not your emotional support animal anymore; i’m now your attack bunny!” you giggle, head in his lap.

yuki laughs too, and tucks a strand of your hair behind your face. his face immediately morphs into one of concern though. “are you sure you are okay though?” he asks for the thousandth time that day. “i know i asked you after the incident but i want to make sure you are actually okay, and you don’t have any secret broken ribs or anything.”

“yes, i’m fine,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “that weirdo just scared me, that’s all. i’m pretty sure he’s the one that’s not okay after i was done with him!” 

 “okay,” yuki says, smiling down at you in his lap. “i guess now i know i don’t need security anymore- i have a reliable attack bunny to protect me!” 

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary @mbappebby

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty ⭐︎ Tell me it's love, tell me it's real

Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! slight angst, only a tiny bit of sadness, fluff, lots and lots of fluff, mentions of loss and death, smut, pool sex, unprotected sex, mentions of unrequited feelings

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve get lost in your own little world, a delusion in which you both have what you want, if only you knew how to talk, how to communicate.

Word count: 11.6k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult we've been talking about this moment since February and now we're here aaahhhh! thanks for helping me and for putting the smut idea in my head, it's been living rent free in there for the past few months, thanks for writing with me hehe ily

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

Steve was dying of boredom. Mrs. Click’s voice sounded through the room that was filled with other bored students, the girl next to him that he never bothered to learn the name of was chewing her gum obnoxiously as she was sketching in her notebook, she smelled like weed and a strong perfume, it was giving him a headache. 

He looked at the clock and sighed, forty minutes to go… 

He couldn’t wait for the bell to ring and go home, watch a movie and eat the pasta his mom made the night before. 

Steve leaned back and tapped his fingers against the book he didn’t even bother to open when Mrs. Click told everyone to flip to page 137. He looked to his left, at the girl sitting by the window, listening attentively and taking notes the way he should have been doing too. 

Just the sight of you angered him and he didn’t even know why, but something in his chest burned every time he looked at you and it frustrated him to no end. And yet, he never stopped himself from looking, from taking in the sight of you and how soft your skin looked, how pretty your eyes were, how nice your clothes fit you and how stunning you always were, even when you ditched your pretty dress for sweaters and jeans on some days. 

Today wasn’t one of those days, you were wearing a skirt, a short one that rode up on your thighs, it made his eyes spark with interest, it made him look closer at you, he sat up straighter and leaned his elbows on the table. 

Your eyebrows were scrunched together, your glossy lips puckered, your eyelashes kissed your skin every time you blinked, your hair laid so prettily on your shoulder, curled at the ends, he wondered how much time you spent on it, did you sleep with rollers in your hair? Or did you get up early just to style it? 

Your skin was glowing and he swore that he could smell your sweet perfume even from a distance. Every time you passed him, he breathed in your scent and made the burning in his chest feel worse than before but he couldn’t help it, you smelled so good.��

He kept staring at you and questions started running through his mind. 

Why do you have to be so beautiful?

Why do you have such pretty lashes?

Why do you bite your lip like that?

Why does his heart beat so weirdly every time he sees you?

It’s not fair, it’s bullshit. 

Your eyes, your smile, your hair, your lips, your pretty face, your stupid rings, your scent, your beauty… it’s not fair. 

Your presence always made him huff in irritation and yet, he never bothered to look the other way or avoid you. 

He always stared, every chance he got, he stared, just like now. 

But then, you turned your head and your eyes locked with his, you caught him staring and it made his cheeks heat up. He shifted in his seat as you gave him a look of confusion, your puckered lips turning downwards, your eyebrows scrunching together even more. 

He should’ve looked away and pretended like nothing happened but he didn’t, he raised his brows at you and curled his lips into a smirk, an action that made you roll your eyes before you turned back to your notebook. 

He almost felt disappointed at the loss of your attention, but then you flipped a page and leaned closer to the table, you quickly scribbled something into your notebook, it made him curious and it made him crane his neck a little but he couldn’t see what you were writing. You then ripped the paper out and folded it, you looked at Mrs. Click before you turned back to him and threw the note on his table without giving him as much of a glance. 

Something in his chest stirred as he picked it up, still looking at you before he gave his full attention to the paper in his hand, he unfolded it and furrowed his brows as he looked at your pretty handwriting before he even read what you wrote. 

What are you looking at perv?

Steve almost laughed, he didn’t expect anything else from you. He shook his head and smirked as he folded the note back together and threw it in his pencil case. He ripped off a piece of paper from his own notebook and started writing without thinking. 

You.

A simple ‘you’, that’s all. He wanted to see how you would react, what you would say back, if you would take it as a chance to flirt with the King, if you would use the opportunity any other girl would use. 

He looked around and ignored the curious looks from Tommy as he threw the note on your table, it landed right in front of you and you wasted no time unfolding it, you looked over your shoulder at him, a deadpan look on your pretty face. You sighed and turned back. 

Steve straightened in his seat, he pressed his lips together as he watched you and the way you held your breath, the way you stared at the paper for a moment, tensely and then, you huffed and crumbled up the piece of paper and threw it in your case just the way he did. You started writing hastily and made him more curious when you stopped for a second before you continued. 

His heart jumped when he got the second note, just like the first time, he quickly unfolded it and read it with excitement bubbling in his chest. 

Very funny, are you running out of girls to flirt with, King Steve?

Of course you would not take the bait and give into his curiosity but he found himself craving for more, you sparked his interest, so he picked up the pen again. 

What makes you think I’m flirting with you, Blondie? Maybe I just like looking at you. 

He should have seen the way you halted your breath, the way you stared at the note a little longer than you did at the last one.

And here I thought you only like to look at yourself…

He snorted at that and earned a pointed look from Mrs. Click, he instantly straightened his back and pretended to listen to her, scared of getting caught, he didn’t want this to end just yet. A sigh of relief fell from his lips once she turned her attention back to the book in front of her. 

No, I quite like looking at the skirt you’re wearing today

Steve swore that you grew flustered at this note, you even glanced down at the skirt and took a few deep breaths before you wrote back to him. 

Like I said… perv. 

His shoulders slumped and he sighed. A part of him was amused, the other… not so much but before he could write back, the bell rang and everyone around him started gathering their stuff and hurrying to leave the classroom, including you. You picked up your notebook and got up, you smoothed down your skirt and left without sparing him a single glance. 

But Steve wanted more. He gathered his things and jumped up, not bothering to wait for Tommy, he hurried after you and watched the way your skirt swayed and your hair bounced. He licked his lips and cleared his throat as he caught up to you, he glanced down at you with a cocky smirk on his face, one that made you roll your eyes again. 

“What do you want, perv?”

He chuckled and shook his head. 

“I’m not a perv.”

“You’re not?” You tilted your head at him, cutely. “Then why are you staring at my skirt and making comments about it?”

He shrugged and looked down at it before his eyes moved up your body, “maybe I just really like it.” 

You rolled your eyes again and laughed – a sound that made him feel something in his stomach. 

“I fear you can’t borrow it, it won’t even fit around your big square head.” 

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes and yet, he couldn’t even help but snort at your insult, they were so very different from the ones he threw at you sometimes.  

“My head isn’t square…”

“Yes it is,” you giggled and gave him a smirk as you eyed him. 

Evil. 

“You look like a lego figure, you have a lego head.” 

He shook his head at you, though the amused smile lingered on his face, even as he took notice of all the prying eyes on you and him, he heard the whispers, saw the girls that eyed him and then you before they leaned towards each other to make up some new gossip, a part of him felt irritated and annoyed but the other part of him that loved the attention, couldn’t care less about what they would say about him or you. 

You stopped at your locker and gave him a weird look when he stopped too, he leaned against the locker next to yours and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched you fidget with your lock. He looked at your hands, how much smaller they were than his and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander the way his eyes did as they roamed every inch of you while you were busy putting your stuff into your locker. 

Usually he did not allow himself to see you as anything other than a girl he disliked but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he allowed himself to see you as something other than that, as something more. 

He licked his lips as he looked at your soft skin, his fingers itched to touch your hair, wondering if they felt just as soft as they looked. He breathed in the scent of your perfume and felt something stir inside of him. 

You turned towards him and he didn’t bother to hide the fact that he was staring. Your lashes fluttered as you blinked, your lips twisted into a downturned smile, you raised your brows at him and shrugged.

“Okay, what do you want from me, Harrington?” You asked, the strap of your backpack now over your shoulder and you slammed your locker before you crossed your arms over your chest. “Is this a dare or something or why are you staring at me like some creep?” 

He felt his cheeks heat up a little, a shyness he usually never felt tugged at his emotions but his arrogance was still in control. 

“I’m bored,” he shrugged and let his eyes linger on your lips as his mind continued to wander. 

You rolled your eyes at him and huffed, pointing your finger around you, gesturing to the students, to the girls that stared at you in envy at this moment. 

“Well, I’m sure one of them will keep you entertained,” you mumbled and took a step forward, “they are practically begging on their knees for your attention, don’t leave ‘em waiting.” You patted him on his chest before you stepped away from him. 

He turned to face you, not wanting to let you go just yet. 

“What if I want you to keep me entertained?” He asked teasingly with a cocky, playful smirk on his lips, one that made you blink and sigh. 

“Dream on, King Steve,” you smirked and looked over his shoulder at something behind him, “gotta be more creative with your dares, your stupid friends are way too obvious.” 

He furrowed his brows and turned around to see what you were looking at, he found Tommy and Carol watching the two of you with a smirk on their lips, giggles falling from Carol’s mouth. Steve rolled his eyes at them and sighed. 

“Listen, that wasn’t–” he stopped talking when he found you long gone and away from him and watched as you walked away, “a dare…” He mumbled to himself, he sighed again and looked down once you were out of sight. His notebook and pencil case were still in his hand, your notes tucked safely in the case – where they stayed for a while. 

“Steve!” 

Your giggles make him smile so widely that it makes his cheeks ache but he can’t stop, not when you continue blessing him with your sweet laughter, your hands are on his shoulders, holding on tightly as his fingers dig into your sides, he peppers your neck with kisses, smacking his lips against the skin over and over. 

You are squirming underneath him, your dress riding up in the process as you both lie on the big couch in your living room, the movie playing on the TV long forgotten, your snacks discarded on the table, your attention is fully on each other, your lips locking every few seconds as your hands wander across his shoulders, over his back, down his arms and finally melting into his hands, your heart skipping several beats when he entwines his fingers with yours.

Steve squeezes your hands and he dives in deeper into your neck, kissing and smiling against your skin. 

“That tickles!” You giggle again, your eyes begin to water from all the laughter. 

He chuckles against you and pecks your neck one more time before he pulls back to kiss your jaw instead, then your cheek and finally your lips, humming against you when you kiss him back immediately. Your breaths mingle together, your lips mold against each other, softly yet passionately, you are chest to chest, hands clinging to one another. 

You let go of one hand and place your palm on his back, sliding it up to his shoulder and squeezing it before you sink your fingers into his already messy hair. 

Steve sighs into the kiss and tightens his hold on your hand as he parts your thighs with his knee, not to take this any further but to feel you closer and you welcome him happily, not initiating anything else either, this feels good, this feels nice, this is enough. 

Your whimper makes his stomach flutter, a smile tugs at his lips as you play with his hair. Your hands feel so good on him, so perfect, so right. His heart skips a beat when you push yourself up and press yourself further against him, parting his lips with your tongue, you deepen the kiss in need to feel him even closer. 

Your hands roam his body and his roam yours, sighs and whimpers sound through the room as you make out on your couch, growing more and more breathless, only when it gets too much do you break the kiss and pull away from one another. You lay your head back on the pillow and open your eyes to see him staring at you already, a soft smile on his swollen lips, eyes hooded and laced with softness, his cheeks are pink and his hair is messy from all your tugging. Steve makes your heart flutter when he presses another soft kiss to your lips and cups the side of your face, tracing your cheekbone as he gazes down at you in a way only a special one should do. 

“Hi Blondie,” he whispers sweetly. 

You raise your hand up towards his face, brushing back his spitcurl before you trail your finger down to his lips, “hey, Lego Head.” 

His eyes crinkle in amusement, a chuckle falls from his pretty lips, “wow, way to ruin the moment.” 

You giggle at him and it makes him continue. 

“You haven’t used that one in a while.” 

“Mhmm, did you miss it?” You tease him, knowing how much he hated the nickname you gave him on a random school day. 

“Hmm, it kinda grew on me,” he admits, smiling down at you, “but I kinda prefer it when you call me Stevie.”

“Stevie? That only happens when I’m drunk.” 

“Yeah,” he whispers and tugs your hair behind your ear, still smiling as his eyes trace your features, “guess I gotta get you drunk again.”

“Why?” You giggle and furrow your brows at him, “so I’ll call you Stevie again?” 

“Yeah, and so I can have sweet Blondie again,” he smirks, “you’re so nice and adorable when you’re drunk.” 

Your cheeks heat up at his words but you roll your eyes and shake your head. 

“Are you saying I’m normally not adorable?” You joke and pout at him and push him back so you can stand up, heart beating faster at the groan of protest and the tightness of his hold on your waist when you try to get up from the couch. 

“Where are you going?” He asks, frowning at you when you place your hand on top of his and gently remove it from your waist. 

“I’m starving, I’m gonna see what I have in the fridge.” 

Steve nods and wastes no time to get up and follow you into the kitchen, admiring the way your little sundress fits your body, the way it hugs your waist and sways around your hips as you walk. Your hair matches the state of his own, messy and disheveled from the previous makeout session. 

When you open the fridge, you let out a loud sigh and look over your shoulder, “uh… I kinda forgot to do the groceries.” 

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, chuckling at the expression on your face, he steps closer to you and places his hands on your waist as he takes a look inside, finding nothing more than fruit, drinks, condiments and cheese, “yeah, that won’t do.”

You sigh again and close the fridge, turning around to face him while his hands are still on your waist. 

“Yeah…”

“Well, let’s go out then,” Steve shrugs as the idea of taking you to a restaurant fills him with excitement and giddiness. 

Your lips part in surprise as your eyes widen. 

“W-Where?”

Steve clears his throat, his cheeks take on a deeper shade. 

“T-To eat. We can uh– go to a sushi restaurant, I’ve always wanted to try… Have you ever tried sushi…?” He stutters and blushes. 

“Y-You wanna go out with me… in public?” You ask, cringing at how shaky and small your own voice sounds. 

His lips twitch, curling into a smile as he nods. 

“We uh… We could go out of town, there are no sushi restaurants in Hawkins, Blondie.” His words left his mouth so casually, like his heart isn’t hammering in his chest and he isn’t filled with the same nervousness he felt as a teenage boy. He feels as though he is asking you out on a date… and maybe he is, maybe he’d like to pretend that he is. 

“You mean to Indianapolis?”

Steve nods. He wants to leave Hawkins for a while, even if just for one night, he wants to be able to go out with you without feeling the need to hide, he wants to hold your hand in public and kiss you breathless on the streets, he wants to hold you close and show you off as if you were his. 

He wants it all with you and he wants it here too, in his hometown, where anyone could see but he still doesn’t know how you feel, he feels hopeful but he is still in the dark about your feelings. 

“It's the closest city we got.”

“It’s an hour trip!” 

His heart melts at the bewildered, cute look on your face, the excitement that lingers in your eyes as your lips start curling into a smile. 

“So?” Steve shrugs and squeezes your waist, “we got all night.”

Your heart is racing and everything inside of you flutters in excitement. Your cheeks are burning and you feel the giddiness of a girl that’s been asked out on a date by the boy she likes. You can’t even hide the smile that appears on your face, brightly and happily. 

“I need to get changed then!” You beam at him as you already step away, not giving him the chance to protest or say anything else before you walk out of the kitchen, “I’ll be down in a minute!” 

Steve listens to the sound of your footsteps as you rush up the stairs, leaving him in your kitchen with a pounding heart and a huge smile on his lips. He looks up at the ceiling, an accomplished and joyful feeling rushing through him, he can’t help but do a silent fist pump. 

This is going to be a date, an unofficial one, but still a date. 

He can’t fight the grin off his lips, the giddy feeling settling into his whole body. He walks back into the hallway and takes a look at himself, your lipstick is smudged on his skin and his lips, his hair is a mess, created by you, his cheeks are glowing from all the happiness inside of him. 

He fixes his hair and wipes the pink lipstick off his skin before he makes his way into your living room to turn off the TV and put away the snacks you both had earlier. 

You come back down fifteen minutes later, changed into a new dress and your makeup reapplied, your hair fixed and a small purse in your hand. You meet in the hallway, keys already in his hand, and he’s leaning against the door.

Steve’s heart goes wild at the sight of you in your new sundress, your glossy lips tugged into a smile, the urge to pull you into a kiss pushes him towards you.

He whistles playfully, making you roll your eyes with a giggle. 

“Getting all pretty for me now?” He teases, acting cocky as though his heart isn’t threatening to beat out of his chest. 

You always get pretty for him. 

“I’ve been dying to wear this dress,” you say, flipping your hair over your shoulder as you twirl around to reveal your open back to him, not knowing how crazy you drive him with your action. 

Steve’s stomach flutters, his hands instantly itch to touch your bare skin, you look so beautiful. 

He takes a step closer to you and grabs your waist, humming, “that’s a pretty dress, I can’t wait to see it on my bedroom floor though.” 

Your cheeks burn and despite it, you giggle as you turn around to face him, “is that a King Steve pickup line?” 

He shakes his head, “no, he never said such things.”

“Sure,” you snort and tug at his hand, pulling him towards the door, “come on now, I’m starving!” 

Steve chuckles and nods, reaching for his car keys on the dresser, he squeezes your hand, “yeah, come on, before you get grumpy.” 

“I never get grumpy,” you argue as your lips curl into a pout that he instantly feels the urge to kiss. 

“You always get grumpy when you’re hungry,” he laughs. He loves it. 

Steve opens the door for you, giving you a sweet smile as he looks down at your pretty face. You step out and he follows, admiring the way your dress hugs your body, the way your skin glows beneath the evening sun, the way your hair shines, your perfume lingers in the air and he can’t help but breathe it in deeply, just the way he always did. 

Your hand fits in his so perfectly, like it belongs there… and to him it does. 

You look over your shoulder, giving him a cute smile that leaves him breathless. The golden light that shines down on you turns his breathing shaky, no words could describe your beauty, nothing comes close to it, absolutely nothing. You are stunning, bewitching, you are a goddess and he worships every inch of your being and you don’t even know it.

He wishes he could scream out those three big words, kiss you breathless and show you just how much he adores you but he can’t, he is too afraid, he fears rejection so deeply, so all that he can do is pretend, pretend that you are already his and live in this small delusion for as long as he can. He opens the door for you and winks at you, fighting the urge to kiss your hand before he lets go of you and closes the door only to grab your hand again once he is seated in the driver's seat, you lace your fingers together and squeeze his hand, unaware of the feelings you leave him with, with your sweet action. 

When he turns on the music and a smile appears on your face, you sink deeper into the seat and get comfortable, a content look on your pretty features. You look so perfect sitting in his passenger seat, next to him, holding his hand, enjoying the music as you look out the window when he drives down the road.

This is where you belong, this is what he wants, you by his side, for tonight and for always, he wants you to be his, his girl.

This isn’t enough, it never was, this was never just about sex. 

There was never an ounce of hatred for you in his bones, not in high school and not after. 

He felt bitterness, confusion, denial but most of all, he felt jealousy, he always did and he never understood why you didn’t like him, why you bickered with him, why you laughed at his poor flirting attempts, why you didn’t want him the way every other girl did, why you showed up for Lucas’s game but not a single one of his – that night isn’t one he likes to think back on, it makes him cringe and shudder in annoyance at himself for what he said to you, he let his emotions, his jealousy, his frustrations control the words his mouth left. 

He didn’t know that you were a friend of Max and Lucas, he didn’t know that you showed up for her, and for him, knowing that his friends were too busy with Eddie’s D&D campaign. He didn’t know why you were there, but when he saw you on the bleachers and he caught you waving at Lucas, whose eyes lit up when he saw you, he couldn’t help but feel jealous because why did you show up for a freshman, for a kid? Why did you never show up to any of his games? Why didn’t you give him the chance to show off? 

He felt irritated, even more so when he saw you talking to Lucas in the parking lot, smiling at him and congratulating him on his successful first game. 

He remembers the way he marched over to you, the way he started bickering with you instead of praising the teen he showed up for. 

“Are you so desperate for attention that you go for a freshman now?” 

He cringes at himself, even now, disgusted at the words he threw at you.

You looked so hurt and angry, you pushed him away from you and he never blamed you for it, you could’ve slapped him right there, he deserved it. 

He felt guilty right then and there but that emotion intensified when only a few days later he found out about your sisterly bond with Max and your friendship with both of them, you cared for them and protected them just the way he did. Before he knew that, he made himself believe that you were just a loner, a person too cold to feel anything, even platonic, he wanted to believe that he wasn’t some unimportant person that you crossed paths with, that you were simply unable to form bonds or relationships but that wasn’t the case, you had people you cared for, you had friends you would die for, you just didn’t want to give him a chance, not platonically and especially not romantically. 

He was jealous of anyone who was close to you, who was special to you but back then, he didn’t allow himself to explore the depth of those emotions that always lingered inside of him when it came to you. 

Now he can see them, he can feel them, he can admit that he was jealous and hurt because he is no longer ashamed to like, love you — someone who might not feel the same. But whatever the outcome of this affair will be, he doesn’t regret letting all those feelings in, especially now that you are here with him, like this, holding his hand and letting him take you out and show you off in public. 

He is allowed to feel hopeful now, he thinks. 

Indianapolis is big and no town people, no friends, no prying eyes will be there to see you both but you could have still easily said no to his suggestion because who goes out to eat with their supposedly casual hook up? But then again, what is casual about you both? 

Not even your first night together was casual. 

You kissed and held each other close from the very beginning. 

You stay over, you cuddle, you hold hands, even in public and when you are sure that no one is looking, you sleep in his arms and you make each other breakfast, you make sure that his favorite drinks and snacks are in your kitchen and he does the same for you, his bathroom and his bedroom are filled with things that belong to you. 

This isn’t casual, the signs are there and they are so very clear, tonight especially, when you make it to the city and you walk through the busy streets where it’s much more crowded and louder than it is in your small hometown, you keep close to him and hold onto his hand tightly as you lead him to the sushi restaurant that you have told him about on the drive here, the one you went to with your parents and your sister every time you visited your grandparents in the city. 

So many things go through Steve’s mind and so many emotions rush through him as you walk side by side, hand in hand with the city lights shining down on you both as the sun disappears more and more. He feels free, like he can do anything, like he can kiss you right here, right now, without needing to hide or drag you to a secret corner, he feels giddy, happy, he can’t even hide the smile on his face. 

Once you make it to your destination, Steve lets go of your hand and places it on the small of your back instead, he opens the door and keeps his palm pressed against your body. He is so lost in his happy bubble, he doesn’t even notice the blush taking over your face when he wraps his arm around you and rests his palm on your hip instead as he leads you inside. 

It’s crowded but he didn’t expect any less from a restaurant in a big city, he doesn’t seem to mind though and neither do you, especially when you get one of the booth tables, tucked away in the very back, next to a big window where you can see the city lights. 

You sit down across from one another, smiling from ear to ear as you look into each other’s eyes. 

“Hi,” he whispers, making you giggle. 

“Hi.”

His honey eyes look so pretty in this golden light, his hair looks softer than ever, his smile so big and bright that it fills you with hope, especially when it stays as his eyes trace your face, he is staring at you even though he could be staring at this pretty setting around you, at the decorated room, the string lights over you, the city lights, but no, he is staring at you and he is making you feel special. 

A sheepish smile takes over your face, a shyness that you rarely ever feel flushing through you, the look in his eyes is so intense that you can’t help but be the first to break contact. You lean back and cross your legs, looking around the restaurant you used to eat dinners at with your family. 

Nostalgia comes over you when a family of four catches your eye, sitting at a round table, they seem to be in a lively conversation, the two little girls laughing with their father as their mother shakes her head with a smile on her face. 

Steve follows your gaze when he notices the sad but soft look in your eyes. Something tugs at his chest when he takes a look at the family you are watching and suddenly your eyes aren’t the only ones filled with sadness. 

He leans closer to the table, placing his palm above your hand. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, watching the way you tilt your head at him, the softness in your eyes never leaving. “I mean, are you okay to be here… right now… with me?” 

There is no one else you would rather be with here.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you nod, glancing down at his hand, he is now rubbing circles into your skin, “and yes, I want to be here with you,” you admit, knowing how vulnerable you can make yourself look with such words. 

He breathes out a sigh of relief, his lips curl back into a smile. 

Steve keeps holding your hand, not letting go, not even when he decides to look at the menu, not even when the waiter stops at your table to take your orders, not when your drinks arrive a few minutes later, he keeps holding on and you let him.

Curiosity sparks in him when he notices the way you keep looking back at the family, a look in your eyes that signalizes the feeling of longing. 

“Blondie?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Can I ask you something?” 

You nod, “anything.”

You’re close enough to ask each other questions that won’t make the other uncomfortable and that is something Steve greatly appreciates, knowing that you weren’t here months back, not even close.

Steve blinks, taking a few shaky breaths, he keeps his hand on yours, tracing the ring on your middle finger. He clears his throat and looks down, ignoring the strong beating of his heart and the nervousness bubbling in his stomach. 

“Do you uh… do you ever think about it?” 

You look at him with big, curious eyes and it’s not helping his case at all. 

“Think about what?” 

“Kids.” 

You furrow your brows at his question but you smile softly and you don’t hesitate to nod, not even needing time to think about it. 

“I honestly want to… I miss having a big family, you know?” You pause and look down at his hand, wondering what it would be like if he had a ring on his fourth finger, one that would match your own. “I don’t care if it’s one or many, I just… I really want a family, one that is here with me, all the time.” 

Steve’s big hazel eyes soften and flicker with deep emotions. His heart skips a beat as warmth settles in his chest. 

He didn’t think he could fall even harder for you, even deeper but now as he looks at you, as he holds your hand and looks into your pretty eyes, he knows that he will never stop falling, there is no end, no limit when it comes to his feelings, to his love for you.

A future lies before his eyes, a future with you, rings, cradles, a white picket fence, kids that look like you and him. He sees something, something that is in reach, something that he hopes for, something that he wants with you without a single doubt.

“You will have it all, Blondie.”

You don’t know what to make of his words but whatever the feelings behind them are, you know that they are not what you want them to be, no matter how much his feelings for you changed, no matter how much hope there is in you, no matter how big it is, you can’t believe that the thing you have now, could be one for the future too and not only the present. 

You don’t know what to say without revealing your feelings to him, you want this with him and he can’t know, he just can’t. 

To your relief, the waiter brings your food to the table, taking Steve’s attention away from your face. You let go of each other's hands, thanking and smiling at the waiter. 

“That looks amazing,” Steve murmurs as he looks at the plates in front of the both of you, reaching for the chopsticks, he looks down at them, growing a little nervous, he never used them before. 

“It does,” you nod with a smile on your face, “hey, this is special, Steve. I’m getting my first sushi with you.” You say with a giggle, making his chest flutter. 

“I thought you had some before.” 

“Yeah, stole some from my dad but I never actually had a plate for myself,” you chuckle. 

“Well, I’m glad we share some firsts together then because I never tried them before, at all,” he grins. 

You can tell by the way he is holding the chopsticks wrongly, looking down at them with furrowed brows and pursed lips. He looks so cute like this but a part of you wants to laugh even though you can’t even use them properly yourself. You have seen your dad using them every time you came here to eat, but you never tried it yourself. 

“I can tell,” you murmur, unable to hide the giggle when he tries to pick up a roll but fails to do so. 

He snorts and shoots you a playful glare. 

“Go ahead, and show me then, Blondie,” he smirks at you, pointing at your plate. 

You clear your throat and place your chopsticks between your index and middle finger, you can already feel your cheeks heating up beneath his gaze. You press your thumb against the chopstick and bite your lip in concentration, glancing at him for a second to see him staring at you, making the warmth in your cheeks grow hotter. 

“See?” You grin as you pinch your food gently, growing confident when you manage to pick up the sushi despite the shakiness in your hands. 

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, smiling softly. 

You go to dip it in the soy sauce when your shaky hands lose control and your sushi plops into the sauce loudly, splattering over your plate but luckily not on your dress. You press your lips together and look into his eyes, you stare at one another for a moment before you both burst into laughter. 

“Oh my god,” Steve chuckles in amusement, “you’re a great teacher, honey.” 

“Shut up,” you giggle and try to pick it up again. 

“Guess we gotta learn together,” he shrugs with a smile on his face. 

You do, you learn together and you share jokes and laugh at each other every time you fail, but once you get the hang out of it, you fall into a conversation about your parents, you tell him stories of the times they brought you and your sister into the city and Steve listens attentively, smiling at you and feeling grateful that you feel comfortable enough to bring him here and to talk about them – and you, you are surprised yourself when you don’t feel the cold sadness in you that you always felt every time you even mentioned them, talking about them with Steve feels… comforting, he is comforting. 

His knees touch yours beneath the table, the material of his jeans brushing your bare skin, his hand is close to yours, his pinky touching your own. He smiles at you, he laughs with you, he makes silly jokes and feeds you his food, his eyes never stray away from you, there is only you for him right now and as the realization strikes you, you grow hopeful again, your heart skips a beat at the thought that this could be something like… a date. 

You both want the same thing, though what neither of you realize is that you aren’t acting like two nervous people who finally managed to score a date with that one person, you are acting like a couple, not a single awkward moment follows you both, you are talking and laughing with each other like you’re best friends. 

“I have this theory…” Steve says before he takes a sip of his coke. 

You cock your head to the side, “please continue.” 

He places his glass back on the table and picks up his chopsticks again, he chuckles before he opens his mouth once more, “that Dustin is copying Eddie.”

“What?” You laugh. 

“Hear me out, for the past few weeks… Have you seen Dustin’s change of style!? He is wearing all black now! And his hair? It’s fucking long!” He exclaims, shaking his head. 

You’re a little amused by his sudden outburst, by the confused and slightly irritated look on his face, it’s cute. 

“Well, he sees Eddie as a role model, so?” 

"Excuse me?” He scoffs, not liking your words, not liking that the boy that once looked up to him found someone else, someone better to look up to. 

You squint your eyes at him and lean closer to the table, cupping your cheek as you smile, “Steve, is it just me or are you jealous of Eddie?” 

He scoffs again, waving his hand at you, “nonsense.”

“You’re jealous that he stole Dustin from you.” 

Steve shakes his head at you, “I’m not jealous, I’m just saying that– he is following Eddie like some lost puppy, copying him fully! What if he takes on smoking?” 

A laugh tumbles from your lips and Steve can’t even fight the smile off his lips when your soft eyes glow with amusement. 

“Really? He is fifteen, Steve! You were hosting parties at that age and getting drunk, he is not the twelve year old you once met.”

Steve laughs, he leans back in his seat and sighs, running his fingers through his hair, “yeah, I forget that sometimes, he’s not a kid anymore… he’s a teenager,” he chuckles, furrowing his eyebrows, “but come on… Eddie? Eddie’s sense of style? Is Dustin insane?” 

You roll your eyes at him, still amused by him. 

“So, you want him to wear polo shirts and cardigans instead?” 

His lips part and he pretends to be offended, “hey! You like my polo shirts!” 

“Yeah, not the point here.” 

Steve tilts his chin up, smirking at you, “you admit that you like them then?” 

You chuckle, shaking your head and hiding your face behind your hair as you start blushing again which prompts him to continue his teasing as he begins to reminisce about your shared days at school, leaving out the saddening memories and only talking of the good ones, the funny ones, memories of your childhood, of your time in kindergarten and middle school and how long you have been a part of each other’s lives and when you leave the restaurant after a long time, you reach for each other’s hands and entwine your fingers together without even thinking about it. 

You stroll through the city and kiss on the streets, like he wanted to all night and it makes you both smile, it makes you feel happy and free and Steve can’t wait for the day when he will find the courage to ask you out on a real date, to ask you to be more than this, to be his, like he pretends you are now as you stand beneath the twinkling lights, surrounded by people, surrounded by the sounds of the city and he can’t stop kissing you, not even when you continue your way to his car, he keeps pulling you into kisses, pressing his lips to yours, to your cheeks, to your hands, to your neck, over and over again, making you giggle and blush at his sweet actions. He’s drunk on you, he is so in love with you that he can’t contain it, he has to show it in some way, he has to let it out, even if not in words. 

Steve holds your hand on your way home, he kisses you at every red light and he sings along to The Smiths, you don’t think that you have ever seen him so carefree and relaxed before. 

And Steve, he had never felt this happy before, nothing, no one can compare to you, to the way you make him feel, to the love he feels for you, to the happiness that flickers in him every time you reach for his hand or bless him with a sweet smile after pressing your lips to his. Those three words that are on the tip of his tongue, beg to be released and he is so close to doing it, so damn close. 

You’re waving your hand in front of your face when you step inside his house, the heat of the summer night feeling too warm on your skin and Steve’s hands on your waist aren’t making it any better, worsening second by second, especially when he keeps making you laugh with his silly comments. 

“I need to cool off.” 

Steve brushes his fingers through your hair and tucks it behind your ears, “cool off? Why, am I this hot?” He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

You snort and place your hands on his chest and run your finger down his stomach, hooking it around his belt,  “you’re such a dork.”

Your dork. 

His lips curl into a smirk, he leans down close enough that your noses brush, “mhm, you like it though.” 

Yes, you do, you really do. 

You gaze into his honey eyes, breathing in the scent of his cologne, getting lost in his touch as his hands hold your waist. 

“You know what else I’d like?” You whisper against his lips as you give him a soft kiss, making his breathing hitch and his heart stammer. 

“Hmm?” 

Steve blinks at you, excitement bubbling in his stomach. 

“A cold beer.”

He chuckles, he expected something else but he can’t complain, not when you give him another short kiss. 

You bite your lip and step away from him, letting his hands fall to his sides. You bring your hands up to the buttons of your dress, walking backwards slowly and continuing to gaze into his eyes with mischief in yours, you undo the top buttons, revealing your new bra to him. You almost giggle at his parted lips and the hunger in his eyes. 

Steve gulps as you expose more and more of your skin to him, he could fall to his knees right then and there.

“Don’t take too long,” you murmur, winking at him. You walk away from him and into his living room, humming as you turn on the lights in his backyard before you slide open the big glass doors and step outside. 

The night is quiet and hot, the only sound coming from the crickets and the slight rustling of the trees as soft wind blows through them and then Steve turns on the stereo in the living room, making you smile. You look up at the starry sky and listen to Steve’s footsteps. 

You push the straps of your dress down your shoulders and kick off your shoes, looking over your shoulder to see Steve rushing out with two beers in his hands. 

He places them on the table and steps towards you, tutting at you with a playful glare on his pretty face, “could’ve let me take that pretty dress off,” he murmurs and places his hands on your elbows where your straps hang loosely now. 

His hands are cold from the beers he picked out of the fridge, goosebumps rise on your skin. 

“I didn’t take it off yet,” you shrug, smirking as your hands find their way back to his belt, and you waste no time to unbuckle it. 

Steve smirks back at you, tracing your skin with the tips of his fingers as he slips the straps down your forearms and pushes your dress down, bunching it around your hips, he sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes grow darker, lustful. It certainly isn’t the first time he sees you like this, but his reaction never changes, his body always reacts to you, just the way his heart does. 

You look so beautiful, so goddamn sexy that it drives him crazy. 

Not many words are shared between you but the silence is comfortable and your eyes speak enough words as you undress each other, you take his shirt off and place your hand on his chest, staring at him in awe as he pushes your dress down and lets it fall to the ground, his hands touching your bare skin, fingers tracing your lacy underwear. 

With hooded eyes he looks down at you and he pulls you closer, “is this little set new?” 

You nod, your skin heating up again. 

“Looks so pretty,” he murmurs and leans in to press his lips against your neck, “too bad it’s gonna get wet.”

You sigh at the feeling of his kisses, breathing shakily. 

You start pushing his jeans down, looking up at him with pleading eyes, “take your pants off, Steve.”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckles and pushes them down his legs, he quickly steps out of them and bends down, hooking his arm around the back of your knees, he scoops you up into his arms, laughing at the surprised squeal that falls from your lips. 

You throw your arms around his neck and hold on tight, looking at him bewildered while he smirks smugly. 

“What are you doing?” 

He steps closer to the edge of his pool, “what do you think I’m doing?” He chuckles, not giving you time to react before he tightens his hold on you and takes another step forward, jumping into the pool and crashing into the water with you, letting the cold envelope you both. 

And you feel it, you feel the freezing water on your skin, the goosebumps that rise and the shivers that ripple through you but not even this takes away the heat you feel inside of you. You taste the chlorine on your lips and you feel his hands on your waist as he pulls you back up with him. 

“Is that cool enough for you, honey?” He asks breathily as he wipes his hand down his face and shakes his head to get the water out of his hair. 

You giggle and stretch your arms out, “mhm, the water feels nice,” you murmur and tilt your head up, glancing at the stars in the sky, smiling at the sound of one of yours and his favorite songs playing on the stereo. 

Steve starts humming along, his eyes tracing your pretty features, your wet hair that still somehow looks just as perfect as it did before, water rolls down your face, your lacy bra now clinging even more to your skin making his hands itch for you. 

The water sloshes around him as he moves closer to you, wanting to feel your body back against his but you seem to have different ideas because when you notice him inching closer to you, you give him a teasing smirk before you turn around and start swimming. 

“Hey!” 

You giggle at the disappointed sound in his voice, that sighs that follows after. 

You feel his hand brushing your foot but unable to get a hold of you, you pick up your pace and start swimming faster, pushing against the water stronger, “you can’t catch me, Lego Head.”

He shakes his head, letting out a laugh. 

“You think you can get away from me?” He teases, diving deeper into the water, he starts swimming after you, “I was a lifeguard, honey.”

“Yeah, you’ve been bragging about it for three years now,” you snort and dare to take a look over your shoulder, “you must’ve been a bad one, ice cream man.”

He laughs again, amused by your comment and by how you slowed down. 

“You’re so funny.”

“I know,” you smirk and turn around again, thinking you can still get away from him but Steve is close, so very close. This time he catches you by your ankle, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you back, chuckling at the squeal that falls from your lips, he grabs your waist and embraces you with his arms, pulling against his chest, he holds you tightly, chuckling at the pout on your lips when you look back at him with a frown on your face. 

“Not fair,” you whine and wiggle against him which prompts you to press yourself harder into his chest, into his front, you can feel his bulge against your butt, you can feel how hot his skin is despite the cool water, his hot breath on your shoulder, his lips on your neck. 

You breathe in shakily, the heat inside of you rushing into your core, making you press your legs together as a deep longing takes over you. 

“Guess you’re not that fast after all, huh?” He teases, loving the way your bare skin feels against his. “Didn’t even take me thirty seconds to catch you.” 

You hold onto him tighter, glancing at his lips before your eyes lock with his again, “maybe I just let you catch me.” 

He chuckles, adoring the way you look at him. 

“Yeah sure, Blondie.” 

He wraps his arms tighter around your waist as he starts guiding you away from the middle of the pool and towards the stairs. 

“So what now, do you plan on drowning me?” You joke. 

The water gets lower and lower, exposing your upper body to the cooling wind, making you shiver a little. 

“No, too late for that,” he jokes back with a chuckle, “but I am thinking of something.” 

You tilt your head to the side and raise your brows at him. He moves away from behind you and reaches for your hand as he takes three steps up the stairs, enough to still be in the water once he sits down before you. He licks his lips as he looks you up and down with need and adoration in his eyes, he admires your body, your curves, you. He pulls you a little closer, the water is still hiding your hips, your legs that he loves having wrapped around his waist and his head. 

“What?” You ask softly and curiously. 

Steve looks at you with hooded eyes, with cheeks glowing pink and lips begging to be kissed. 

“I want to fuck you, right here, right now, in my pool, and–” he rasps, glancing up at the sky above you, he points his finger up, “under the full moon.”

Your eyes widen at his words, butterflies that never die growing wild in your stomach, your kneels almost buckle and you have to press your thighs together. 

You follow his gaze and frown when you only see the stars in the sky and the quarter of the moon. 

“That’s not a full moon, Steve–” you gasp when you suddenly feel his hands on your waist and he forces you closer, prompting you to straddle his waist. Your knees hit the steps he’s sitting on, your arms wrap around his neck instinctively. 

“You’re a stupid moron,” you whisper with no venom in your voice or your eyes. 

Steve blinks, smirking at you. 

“And you are too naive,” he whispers back, squeezing your waist as you lean into each other, not even noticing that you did as you shared your soft whispers. 

You smile at one another, your noses brushes and you close your eyes as your lips meet in a soft kiss, a kiss enough to steal your breath. 

You move your palm down his strong shoulder, squeezing his bicep and resting your other hand on his back, deepening the kiss as he parts your lips with his tongue, blessing you with the sound of his moan. 

Steve runs his hand down your waist and to your hips, gripping your body tightly, pulling you closer and closer until you’re flush against him. He can’t help but gasp when you grind against his erection, filling him with more need. 

Your soft kiss grows faster, hungrier, needy but still passionate and despite the lack of air, you don’t pull away just yet. You run your hand down his hairy chest, his stomach, making him shiver against you. You tug at his boxers, pulling them down just far enough for you to wrap your hand around his dick. 

“Baby,” he whispers against your lips, continuing to press kisses to your mouth as he tugs at your panties, “let me–”

“No,” you whisper as you jerk him off slowly, pumping him a few times and teasing his slit with your thumb, “I need you.” 

You don’t need no preparation, you don’t need his fingers or his tongue, not right now, you only need him, to feel him, all of him. 

“F-Fuck,” he breathes shakily, moaning at the feeling of your soft hand around him, “please… I want you, I need you so bad.”

You whimper as his fingers dig deeper into your skin, his words rushing to your heart and your core. 

You push your panties to the side and waste no other second to guide him to your entrance, looking into his pleading eyes that watch you in awe as you sink down on him, taking him slowly and moaning out his name in pleasure as your eyebrows scrunch together. The water pressure making it a little harder to do so, and it is a weird yet not unpleasant feeling. 

“J-Just like that, baby,” he whimpers, his hands holding you tightly, his eyes flickering between your face and your body, the pleasure in him growing deeper and stronger, “you’re doing so well… fuck… you feel so good,” he groans when he feels your warmth enveloping him fully. 

His right hand settles on your lower back, moving up to the middle and the top and then he wraps his hand around the back of your neck so he can pull you even closer, he presses his lips back to yours, pecking them one, two, three times. 

“Steve,” you whimper, tears brimming in your eyes from the pleasure in your body, from the size of him. You bite down on your lip and suppress a moan, when you’re fully seated on top of him, you feel a wave of different emotions rushing through you. His kisses, his touches, his hugs and his compliments, the sweet things he says to you, the sweet things he does for you overwhelming you in the best way possible. 

Something changed, something was different today, this feels different. 

You pull him into an even deeper kiss than before, letting your emotions take full control over your actions. 

Steve doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the sudden kiss, he even smiles into it, feeling his heart beating in joy. 

You start riding him slowly, moving your hips at a torturing pace as you’re still getting used to his size. You’re clenching around him, your slick coating his dick and Steve feels it all so intensely. 

The strap of your bra slips down your wet arm but you don’t bother to fix it.

Steve cups your cheeks as your tongues clash together, your needy whimpers vibrate against his lips but he notices how quiet they sound compared to moans and screams you let out when you’re in his bed. 

“Let them out, baby,” he murmurs as you both pull away from the kiss, your breaths mingling together as your lips keep brushing against one another. He tucks your wet hair behind your ears and slips his hands down your body, settling on your hips, he gives you a lazy smile, his eyes already fucked out, “let me hear your pretty moans,” he whispers, trying to coax his favorite sounds out of you as he starts fucking up into you. 

You gasp and hold on tighter, furrowing your eyebrows even more, the feeling of him splitting you open, fucking you deeper making you whimper in need. 

“P-Public, neighbors might hear, Steve–” You whine as you meet his thrusts, continuing to roll your hips despite the nervousness that lingers in you from not wanting to get caught, but it’s hard to keep quiet when he feels so good. 

Steve couldn’t care less about his neighbors, the bushes around his house hide his backyard well enough, there is no need to worry. 

“Let them hear,” he whispers into your neck as he presses his lips to your delicate skin. 

Your heart stutters in your chest, surprise sparks in you because he wants people to hear you, both of you, he doesn’t care about hiding, he didn’t care about it at all today. 

His strong hands hold your hips, his cock sliding in and out of you, sending waves of pleasure through your belly, his moans echo through the night and you can’t help but get lost in the moment of this. 

You bury your fingers in his hair and your face in his neck, whining as you pick up the pace, riding him faster than before, causing the water to splash around you both. His chest hair brushes against your boobs, his lips suck on your skin, his moans vibrate against you as he kisses you through it all. 

“Just like that,” he hums, satisfaction tugging at him when he feels you drooling over his neck, your hot tears falling down on his skin, “look at me, honey, I wanna see your face.” 

You gather your strength to pull back far enough for him to see you and those tears he caused to fall from your eyes. You’re whimpering and clenching around him tightly, making him match the sounds that fall from your lips. 

His hazel eyes are dark, his lips puffy and cheeks redder than before, his wet skin glowing under the string lights in his backyard. God, he looks so beautiful, especially when he is moaning your name and clinging to you. 

He cups the side of your face and you make his heart flutter in his chest when you lean into his touch. 

For a moment, he leans back the slightest bit just to see you, to watch how you ride him, how you take him, how much pleasure he brings you, how your face scrunches up so prettily, how your lips curl into a pout, how your boobs threaten to spill out of your bra as you bounce on his dick, whimpering his name, over and over again. 

God, he loves you, he loves you so fucking much that it physically hurts him to hide those words from you, everything inside of him screams at him to say them, to let you know, to confess to you, to show you how much he wants you, how deep his feelings for you are. 

His own eyes burn with tears, pleasure and emotions mixing together as he watches you, convinced that there is something behind your eyes as well, feelings, adoration, love. 

There has to be something, right? 

You wouldn’t hold his hand just for the fun of it, you wouldn’t kiss him and let him feel you, have you like this if there wasn’t something in your heart for him. You wouldn’t spend nights in his arms and dinners with him if it was casual. 

It’s not casual, it just can’t be. 

You have to feel it too, you have to feel the love. 

You just have to. 

Your name falls from his lips and when you wrap your arms around him again and you lean your forehead against his, gazing into his eyes with something, you grow tighter around him, making his moans louder. 

I love you. 

He traces words into your skin that he can’t say out loud because he is too afraid to lose you because while there is hope in him, there is also fear, fear that he is misunderstanding something again. 

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

Steve wants to whisper them to you, to say them to you, to scream them out into the open for the whole world to hear. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, making your heart explode in your chest. 

“So are you,” you whisper back, shakily, wishing you could say something else, something more. 

Steve looks up at you as though you’re something special, like you aren’t the girl he once hated, like you are his and it prompts you to peck his lips, over and over again just the way he always does to you. 

Waves of pleasure crash over the both of you as you chase your high together, you moan against each others lips as his hand moves down your stomach and his fingers settle between your thighs, no words are spoken anymore when he presses against your clit gently, rubbing circles against your sensitive nub, your high pitched moans, his deep thrusts and the begging looks in both your eyes are enough. 

You kiss and you both move, faster than before, you cling to one another harder, stronger, deeper than ever, your lips moving feverishly with each other, desperation and love behind all your movements, a searing heat cursing through you both, overwhelming your poor hearts that long for each other so pleadingly. 

And when you both reach your peak, Steve has to press his lips strongly to yours so he doesn’t spill the words that become harder to keep in. He kisses you for as long as he can, he kisses you through your high and through the aftermath, your movements slow down and your hearts beat slower, he still doesn’t pull away, if anything, he tightens his arms around you, not wanting this moment to end, not wanting this night to end. 

He wants to smile, he wants to feel happy but a part of him is so scared, after tonight especially. 

You showed him something that he could lose at any given moment, you made him feel things he didn’t even think he was capable of feeling, you lit the fire inside of him again, you made his heart feel again, you made him love again, stronger than he ever did before, he didn’t even think a love like this was possible, he didn’t think he could love so deeply. 

What will there be if he loses you? 

He experienced heartbreak before but nothing would compare to this, not even his first love could make him feel such excruciating pain that you will curse him with when you decide to leave him. 

His heart pains at the thought, it already begins to break just thinking of the possibility. 

Steve clings to you, when you pull away from the kiss, he buries his face in your neck and breathes you in, he holds you tightly as though he is afraid that you might disappear if he lets you go. 

He needs to feel you, he needs you against him, he needs to savor every moment you still allow him with you. 

Steve can’t bear to lose you, not you, he can get through anything, he can get over anything but not you. 

And while he is filled with fear, inwardly begging for you to stay, for you to be the one to be by his side – you are holding onto him with hope, with a smile on your face, unaware of the fear that lingers in the man that you love with all your heart.

You never thought you’d be in this position. That you’d ever feel like this when it came to Steve. You never thought you would feel confident in this relationship, potential, a future in it. The fear slowly decreases in each caress he gives you, in every touch, in every kiss. A fear you never thought you would lose in your life.

All you ever imagined in this love you had for him was pain. Everything ended in pure heartbreak and loneliness for you. Now, that image doesn’t come to mind. That picture you painted is no longer vivid in your head. 

And this is when you realize that you have a chance. You truly have a chance.

You decide to push it all aside, the anxiety, the fear of rejection, the fear of loss, you push it all away, no longer allowing the sadness and the fear to control you, if today wasn’t the push that you needed then you don’t know what else will. 

All the signs you weren’t sure of are there, they are there, colorful and bright, for you to see so clearly and you no longer move away from them, you move towards them, allowing yourself to feel hope that he can feel the same. 

And when you two go to bed that night after a long shower together, you cuddle and you kiss each other sweetly, whispering words of affection to one another, tracing each other's skin and holding one another tight. 

You make a decision. 

Tomorrow… Tomorrow will be the day you decide to confess. It cannot wait any longer. It cannot be postponed. It is inevitable, and you cannot handle the pain of loving him and being just this item with him any longer, especially not after this night. 

Having him like this is no longer enough. 

Keeping those three words in becomes less possible after every kiss, every touch, every whisper.

Tomorrow your life will change. 

And hopefully for the better. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

[elssero]

project partner

k.bakugo

-in which you and bakugo get paired to work on a school project together ,sfw. angst!!!!! tw no happy endings ..

maybe you should’ve been paying more attention but your hero analytics class was so boring you genuinely couldn’t stop yourself from getting distracted.

it’s not like the view outside the window is any more interesting- at this point your just looking at anything in an attempt to drown out your teachers voice.

you catch a pair of birds on a tree outside- watching as they shuffle around each other awkwardly. god you wish you were one of those birds right now. you really hate this class.

“and yn, you’ll be partnered with uh- bakugo.”

wait what?

oh you’ve got to be kidding me.

you don’t even know what you’ve been partnered to work with him on? some sort of fake hero interview? god could your day get any worse.

you did not like bakugo. not one bit.

you didn’t like his ‘better than everyone’ attitude. you didn’t like the constant stupid scowl on his face. but most of all you didn’t like the way he spoke to your friends.

at the beginning of the year you’d made a conscious effort to befriend most of your classmates. never shying away from a conversation and offering your assistance whenever needed.

you knew what it was like to be strong, you’d always been a step ahead, seemingly excelling in everything you did. you guessed you had that in common with him.

however, what you didn’t have in common with him was his treatment of your classmates. you had never once wanted anyone too feel inferior to you, even if they were.

sure you were teasing- often joking around with many of your classmates but it was all in good faith. nothing like the actual insults bakugo often hurled at them.

you didn’t like him. not at all.

staring at aizawa with wide eyes he only gives you a shrug. you have absolutely no idea why he thought it would be a good idea to pair you and bakugo together- you’d never even spoken a word to each other in this class.

after reading out the rest of the pairings he dismisses the class, encouraging you all too make plans with your partners about scheduling time to work on the project he’d just given you, explaining you had a week to hand in two fully fledged professional looking interviews, one of your partner and of yourself with the other playing the interviewer.

you weren’t worried about your performance at something like this, being friendly and talking to people had never been a problem for you- at least not until it came to the blonde who was now making his way towards you. his signature frown on his face.

he huffs as he attempts to make himself comfortable in the seat next to you, still somehow looking incredibly uncomfortable.

you glance around at the other pairs in the room. brewing with jealousy as you see everyone already getting along- seemingly paired with someone their known to be friends with.

the boy beside you attempts to speak before you cut him off-

“okay look- i don’t want to be here any longer than i need too and i’m sure you don’t either.” you would normally grimace at the harsh tone of your voice- except it’s bakugo, so instead you continue on.

“i’ll spend tonight watching recent hero interviews too see what types of questions are currently trending, i’ll put us both together a series of questions we can ask each other.”

it’s better you do all the work, it means he can’t surprise you with some stupidly rude question. you don’t have to get along with him. you just have to do the project- get a good grade and go back to ignoring him.

“send me a copy of your schedule so i can work out a time that suits us both to film the interviews- they shouldn’t take too long, most interviews only last a little under an hour now a days.”

you don’t look at him as you speak to him, instead opting to drawing little cats in the corner of your page as you explain your plan to him.

“oh um- okay.” he pauses slightly before continuing speaking. “yeah- um i’ll send you my schedule.”

that was oddly easy? of course your glad he didn’t fight you on this, but to say you weren’t expecting at least a little challenge would be a lie.

deciding not to dwell on his weird behaviour you take this as a win- you get to dictate your entire project which is obviously what you’d rather. when the bell rings to signify the end of the day your beyond thankful to it for getting you away from the increasingly awkward silence your having with bakugo at the moment. getting up you don’t even bid him goodbye as you meet up with your friends while leaving the class to make your way to the dorms.

it’s jirou and mina you meet at the doorway- immediately accepting their invitation to join them on their walk home.

the walk isn’t long- you listen as your friends catch you up on the work they’d done with their partners during class- expressing their excitement to work on something more media based.

“so uh- how’s having bakugo as a partner?” you roll your eyes at your pink friend. it’s no secret that your not a fan of bakugo. infact you go out of way to make it very clear to your friends your feelings about the boy.

“it’s weird. he’s totally letting me do all the work- of course i’m not complaining but i thought he’d try to argue with me with at least once.” explaining how he’d acted to your friends you feel just as confused as you did in class.

“wait- you mean he didn’t argue with you once? not even a single time?” confirming minas question you keep walking. it is weird. you don’t think bakugo has ever done a paired project without being utterly horrible to whatever pour soul had been paired up with him.

“i mean are we really surprised? i can’t think of a single time he’s ever actually insulted you.” you look at your purple haired friend as she talks. she’s right.

you don’t know why, but since the beginning of first year bakugo had never once said anything mean to you. not since you’d kept up with him on the quick assessment on your first day.

it’s weird. god it’s so weird and your grateful someone else has noticed it. he’s always so mean. never thinking twice before hurling abuse at the rest of your class while he seemingly never even thinks of throwing some at you.

you rather it that way. it gives you the perfect excuse to never have to speak to him.

“wait your right…” mina currently looks deep in thought before a sly smile erupts on her face. “maybe he’s got a crush!”

you can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your chest. bakugo?? a crush?? even the idea sounds crazy. not once in your three years of being at UA had you ever heard of bakugo even being remotely interested in anything like that with anyone.

“bakugo definitely does not have a crush on me- are we sure he even has a romantic bone in his body?” jirou beside you laughs at that, a small chuckle escaping her. “it’s not the craziest explanation- maybe he’s got a soft spot.” you shoot her a kidding glare.

“don’t be silly guys. i’m sure there’s an actual reason- maybe he just can’t think of anything bad to say about me.” your thankful when the girls next to you both burst into giggles- giving you and opening to change the subject.

the idea scratches the back of your head the whole walk. you can’t stop thinking about it as you make your way into your own dorm, showering and changing before beginning to work on your project- your thirty minutes into the most recent mirko interview when you decide you need a break.

dinner. that will definitely solve your problems. your just hungry.

making your way into the kitchen your hopes of getting your mind off bakugo are immediately shut down as you see his figure behind the open fridge door.

for fucks sake.

it’s too late to turn around now. sucking it up you made your way over to one of the cupboards before taking out some bread- you’ll just make a sandwich. something quick to get you the fuck out of this kitchen.

you nearly make it out- your so close.

“so uh- how’s the project going?” your being punished. your now completely certain someone out there has something out for you.

“um yeah it’s going fine- i have your questions all written out i’m just getting started on mine.” you forced to look at him quickly when you place the bread back into the cupboard. it’s clear he’s just back from a very intense work out. the sweat in his hair makes that evident. he looks good.

what the fuck? you turn away quickly before he notices your quick stare as you pack up your food ready to take into your room.

“you did my questions first?” there’s a slight surprise in his voice as he questions you.

“uh yeah it was easier. there’s a lot more male heros so it was easier to find interview questions compared to females.” it’s a logical explanation- you miss the way his expression drops slightly when he listens to your reasoning.

“is that all your having to eat?” this is weird. is he making fun of you? no that’s not it. there’s not a mean tone in his voice- instead it’s something like concern.

“i’m not really hungry. just wanted a quick snack-“

“you should eat more.”

you need to get out of this kitchen. why is he being so nice to you? okay maybe he’s right. a sandwich is definitely not a hero course student meal but your currently far to confused and far too tired too care.

“goodnight bakugo.”

you don’t wait for his reply as you quickly make your way to the door, desperate to get away from whatever the fuck is going on right now. you debate making your way to minas room to debrief what just happened but decide against it. she’ll probably attempt to try and convince you about her stupid crush theory again and there’s absolutely no way that’s true.

the after effect of your late night hits you like a truck in the morning, after groggily getting up and forcing yourself to get ready you rush to class- nearly missing the bell while you step in only a few seconds before your teacher.

you spend the entire period in complete silence- focusing mainly on keeping yourself awake long enough to get home and go straight to sleep. your keeping your face up with your hand while it threatened to fall when you receive a note from your left.

you okay? you look like your seconds away from biting your desk. -k.b.

why on earth did he sign his initials on this stupid note as if you didn’t just watch him place it on your desk. you decide to take a minute to calm yourself so you don’t end up writing him back a mess of profanities.

you don’t even reply at all, deciding instead to crumple the note up extremely loudly before placing it in your pocket. you miss the dejected look on his face but you do hear the scoff. that bitch.

you can’t wait for the end of this stupid project, hoping that by the end of it you and bakugo will be able to go back to how you were before. he can go back to terrorising the rest of the class while you go back to ignoring him.

it’s beyond weird that he’s starting to talk to you. you assume he feels obligated because he’s your partner but you’d rather he just ignored you outwith strickly work related conversations.

your packing up for class when he nexts approaches you- placing a piece of paper in your hand as he walks by your desk.

“it’s uh- it’s my schedule.” right. you did ask him for that didn’t you? did he put this together last night? it’s extremely detailed- compiling exactly what he does everyday seven days a week, even having slots for studying and meal times.

scanning it over quickly you realise the only free time you share is saturday afternoon- tomorrow.

that works. if you get your interviews completely done during the weekend it means that this weird situation you’ve found yourself in with bakugo will be over by monday- it’s perfect infact.

“i’m free tomorrow afternoon too- i’ll meet you in the common room at 1 and we can spend a couple hours on it. hopefully we can have it done before dinner.”

“yeah um- that’s fine i’ll meet you at 1.” okay great. you take note of the fact this is the second plan you’ve made without bakugo arguing with you.

you leave the class in speed after that- wishing your friends a goodbye as you let them know you won’t be walking with them today, wishing to run straight to bed as your far too tired to spend time with them right now.

it’s hours later when you finally wake up- 7pm your clock reads. you’d really hoped that you would just have been able to sleep though the whole night- it seems the universe has other plans for you as you hear your stomach grumble. great.

your making your way down to the common room when you hear a mixture of voices from behind the wall.

“yeah it’s great- but bakugos the luckiest for sure. he’s working with yn on this and she always does well on this shit. maybe it’ll bring your hero media grade up.” it’s kaminari you hear first. your ears perk up when you listen to a mention of your name.

“yeah bakugo how is it? it’s gotta be great working with her. i’m totally jealous.” you manoeuvre quickly to hide yourself fully behind the wall now. they’ve not realised your here yet. you intend to listen fully to what they have to say about you.

“it’s alright- i guess.” you wish you could say you were surprised but alright? if he calls doing all the work for alright then you’ll never do anything for him ever again.

“come on bakugo there’s got to be more to it than that? you finally get her to talk to you yet-?” huh? what does he mean by that? finally getting you to talk to him?

“shut up shitty hair- it’s- no i haven’t!” he’s getting increasingly more frustrated as he continues.

“every time i attempt to make conversation she shuts me out completely. i- i don’t even know what im doing wrong.” his voice sounds rejected as he finishes his sentence. he’s been.. trying to talk to you?

why? it’s the first thing that crosses your mind. why after years of being in the same class- years of mutually ignoring each other why would he now make the decision he’s interested in talking to you?

you can’t listen to any more of this. forgetting all about your hunger you hastily make your way back to your dorm- attempting not to draw notice to yourself.

somehow finding yourself more tired than you were when you first made your way downstairs you flop yourself onto your bed with a confused sigh.

you just don’t get it. trying to wrack your brain for reasons why bakugo would all of a sudden decide he’s interested in you- you fail to find a logical reason.

maybe you should just sleep it off- after your interviews are done tomorrow you won’t have to speak to him ever again if your luckily. you can spend your days avoiding him during classes and in the corridors. it shouldn’t be that hard.

his friends words repeat in your mind. finally get you to talk to him? had he been interested in you for awhile? and for what?

maybe he had been looking for something to make fun of you for- it’s the only explanation you can come up with.

forging yourself to stop dreading over it you take that as your answer. bakugo katsuki is attempting to get close to you so he can find something to poke fun at you for.

you know in your mind that’s not it. even in your tired state you realise that the excuse your giving yourself isn’t the truth. however your far to exhausted- and apparently still hungry to let yourself stress over it any longer as you fall back into sleep.

your alarm wakes you up at a sharp 10am. it’s your emergency alarm for when you accidentally sleep in. fuck.

you have three hours before your supposed to meet bakugo and your already riddled with anxiety over it. waking up late forces you to miss your work out for the third day in a row- maybe you’ll be able to get one in later tonight.

opting to just start getting ready your able to take your time- an outfit choice isn’t needed, you’ll need to wear your hero costume if your doing “hero work.”

it’s 12 when you begin to start thinking about getting something to eat- your ready to leave now, your aswell heading down to the kitchen early.

your heading to your door when you get a knock, opening it expecting it to be one of your friends your shocked when you see- bakugo?

in his hand is a brown bag- the little logo of a local bakery is crumpled but you can still make it out, in the other is a coffee of some sort.

“you didn’t eat last night. picked you up something after my run.” of course he’d went on an early morning run- your almost jealous of his work ethic.

he got you breakfast? it smells good. you can’t remember the last time you went to that little bakery, you’d forgotten how much you missed it.

“how’d you know how i take my coffee?” his eyes shift to the floor at your question- nervousness clearly evident in his voice.

“i uh- i asked raccoon eyes. she said that’s always what you get.” of course he went to mina- it’s not wonder she keeps making crazy assumptions about the two of you.

you offer his a small smile when you answer him- maybe the first you’ve ever given him. “thank you bakugo.”

his eyes go wide at that- “um yeah it’s no big deal- i was getting something anyway.” did he eat it already? your foods still warm- it feels as though he ran straight here after getting it.

“you ready to go?” your snapped out of your trance when you tell him yes- picking up your bag you make your way to the training room that had been set up specifically for this project.

it looks like a real interview set- in the middle of the room is a long table with two chairs- both situated with microphones with a camera catching them both in shot.

you begin to set up straight away- bakugo insists on working on your interview first as a thanks for doing the rest of the work and you take him up on the offer, settling yourself into the seat of the interviewee as he situates himself beside you.

he looks slightly different from how he normally does- less angry, you think. he’s really gotten himself into character- dressing himself a smart-ish shirt, he’s put on his reading glasses, he looks kinda cute.

the lighting of the set is definitely doing wonders for him- you just hope it’s doing you the same justice. he coughs slightly next to you- seemingly to get your attention.

“you ready to go?” he’s looking at you patiently- urging you to take your time.

“i’m good to go- just try stay on script yeah?” your joking with him- similarly to how you would your other classmates. maybe this project isn’t so bad.

he does infact follow the script perfectly in the beginning- opening up your interview- introducing you to the “audience” as he begins the questions.

it’s the usual stuff- questions you’d answered a million times. who inspires you? why did you decide to be a hero? what type of hero do you wish to be? blah blah blah.

“if we asked your friends to describe what it’s like to be your friend- how would they describe it?” you love questions like these- you feel it gives fans a real feel for not only you as a hero- but you as a person.

“i’m hilarious- obviously. but if we’re being completely serious i’d probably describe myself as helpful? i always find joy in being able to help my friends with things their struggling with- it helps i get too tease them about it too.” you flash the “interviewer” a smile to only be met with a deadpan expression.

did you say something wrong? you thought that was a perfect answer- it paints you as a kind but funny person. what’s his problem?

“why do you do that?” his interviewer tone is gone now- seemingly given up on his part.

“do what?” your voice is laced in confusion but in reality your angry. it had been going so well up until now- no arguments, no insults- just getting the project done and now your going to have to start the whole interview all over again.

“your nothing like that- at least not to me.” he’s grumbling as he says it- looking directly at you with that same frustrated expression.

“what are you talking about.” your firm when you say it- edging him to just get to the point of whatever tangent he’s about to go on so you can get back to work.

“you-? it’s just you! your fuckin’ friends with everyone- it pisses me off.” your mouth is slightly agape- what does who your friends with have anything to do with him? you don’t reply.

“it’s just- everyone fuckin’ loves you- apparently your so fuckin’ great to everyone but i can never get that out of you-“ anger is rising in his voice as he continues- getting more and more frustrated as he keep struggling to explain how he feels.

“your always such a fuckin’ bitch to me- always ignoring me- never giving me the time of day and everything thinks m’ fuckin’ crazy because your just soo good.” your anger is suddenly matching his- your such a bitch to him?? does he have any idea about the way he treats people?

“oh that’s fucking rich coming from you- your maybe the biggest asshole i’ve ever met. no wonder i don’t wanna speak to you.” your furious- who does he think he is?? that he thinks he can dictate how you act towards people.

“what?” the tone is his voice is changed now- the anger that was there a second ago seems to have vanished- now replaced with sadness.

“and you ignore me too!- don’t act like our lack of communication is all my fault.” now it’s his turn to be in shock- he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you act like this before.

“your right bakugo- i am a bitch. i’m a bitch to you because i can’t stand you. i don’t like you, not one bit. your a horrible classmate- i can only imagine an even more horrible person just going by the way i hear you speak to people.”

you take a deep breath before you continue- finally allowing yourself to actually look at him- your vision a little blurry from anger, but you can see it clear as day- the complete expression of hurt written all over his face.

you wish you cared- you wished you maybe felt a little empathy for the boy but you don’t- you can’t. you’ve listened to the way he’s treated people for years and now that you’ve started you can’t stop.

“you don’t do it to me- i don’t know why and quite frankly i don’t care. but i hear it, i’ve heard it for years and i wont shy away from it anymore- i believe you to be a bad person bakugo, you’ll make a great hero- maybe. but that won’t change the fact i truly believe you to be a bad person.”

he still doesn’t say anything- the hurt in his face somehow even more evident as the tears threaten to spill from his eyes.

“right.”

he gets up without saying anymore more- grabbing his coat as he makes a b-line for the door- leaving you alone in this stupid interview set.

he’s such an idiot- and too think he really had a chance- of course you would see him for as he was.

he loved you- he had for years.

and you completely hated him.

[venus-maneater]

a loyal dog’s reward ii. | yan! criston cole

yandere / obsessed ! au

fem! targaryen princess! reader

part i

synopsis. suffering an injury from a tournament, criston has to deal with seeing you alongside his temporary replacement. fortunately, you weren’t interested in teasing too much this time, trying to distract yourself from your sister beginning her labors, and you were happy to cheer your poor mutt up.

note; I’ve decided to make this a series with no real plot lol 😭 if being attracted to criston cole is a crime then lock me up !! this chapter took a mind of its own bc this was not the original plot and it’s twice as long as part i

WARNING(s): obsessive / possessive behavior, manipulation, violence, thoughts of violence, implied murder, blood, injury, JEALOUSY, nosebleeds, talk of bastards and having bastard children, Rhaenyra gives birth, allusions to sex but no actual smut, cole def has a breeding kink y’all

Ser Criston Cole, your ever-so-loyal shield, always said yes when you asked him to enter tourneys. He knew how much you enjoyed them, and relished in your attention as he succeeded in competition. There were only two real downsides to tournaments for him: the hours he had to spend apart from you, and the injuries. Criston had always excelled at anything physical, but he was only mortal. He was just a man who could be maimed or murdered just like any other. It served to remind him of the status gap between you: he was a man while you were born from dragons.

He kept his eyes on your form in the nobles’ box until it was his turn. This was typical behavior from him, he was nothing but devoted to you. Since you’d discovered his true feelings, you gave him more attention than before. You entertained his tendencies, teasing him sometimes but always reassuring him at the end of the day. You wanted no one but him.

“Oh, don’t fret, my Criston.” You’d tut, “I could never replace you. You’re the only guard dog for me.”

You played with his feelings occasionally, trying to get a rise out of him, but he quickly found that he didn’t mind. His reward at the end made all his anger worth it. He never blamed you either, it was never your fault that men didn’t know how to leave you alone.

He wondered now if this was one of your attempts at making him jealous.

The large man who stood obediently behind you was the one taking over Criston’s position as he competed in the tournament. Usually, another Kingsguard member would take over, but this particular Knight had something to prove. He was highborn, from some house in the Vale, with wide shoulders and a somewhat handsome face. The two men looked nothing alike; the Knight next to you was pale, hazel-eyed, and thin-haired.

He doubted it.

You didn’t like men other than Criston Cole guarding you, you’d expressed so before. They’re boring and untrustworthy, you insisted. Your words made his chest puff out with pride. He liked that he was the only one you truly trusted with your life; you knew he would protect you. You chose him to protect you.

To be honest, you didn’t even seem interested in the Knight from the Vale; you looked stiff and bored, which concerned your sworn shield. You loved tournaments, you loved when he won things in your honor. Why don’t you look excited?

Soon enough, it was his turn again. With your flowery red favor around his wrist, he got into position.

You perked up a bit when you saw that it was Criston’s turn once more. You’d been rather stiff most of the event, and you partially blamed it on your boring temporary guard. The man was flat; no personality to work with at all. It bummed you out honestly, he was from the Vale but behaved like a Northman. He was presumably around Ser Criston’s age, but had not even half of his spirit. It wouldn’t have bothered you so much if you couldn’t feel his stare burning into the back of your head. You could give him some credit; at least he’s taking his job of supervising you seriously.

But no, the primary reason for your irritation and lack of focus was your father. He had demanded you to attend this tourney to celebrate Rhaenyra’s labors, not allowing you to be by her side. You and your sister were close, very close, and quite similar as well. To not be by her side when she was in pain had you tense. You didn’t want to be here, not even to see Criston compete.

Criston Cole was facing a member of House Bolton, a rather fierce young man who didn’t scare easy. Most Northerners were like that, but Criston should know best as he just beat another one last round. The tournament today was celebrating Princess Rhaenyra beginning her labors, so competitors have traveled from far and wide. The event had been planned for a month, so it was good news that the Princess was finally giving birth.

“Jessil,” you called to your guard with a smirk, “You should watch closely this round, my shield is competing.”

The man nodded curtly without a word, causing you to roll your eyes. His under-reactions irked you, but you were starting to blame Criston Cole for that fact. He always reacted wonderfully to anything you did, perhaps you were too used to it.

Speaking of your shield, you could see his anger growing the longer you were with another man. It was the only thing keeping you here at this point; waiting to see if he’ll get violent. Criston was the most amusing man you’d ever met, you just knew something was going to happen. There were only two more rounds until the event ended, and he’d been stiff ever since Ser Jessil bent down closer in order to hear your comments about two hours ago.

The two knights settled into their positions across the courtyard from each other, on opposite sides of the tilt. Then, a horn sounded, triggering their horses into a sprint. With their lances aimed, the men collided, wooden splinters flying but neither of them falling. New lances were readily tossed to them and the process repeated. Criston spared you a glance, noticing that Jessil had gotten a few inches closer.

Again, they charged forward. Only this time, when they clashed, Criston was thrown from his horse at the force of the hit. The Bolton fared a bit better, remaining on his horse, but he was hit in the face by Criston’s lance, causing the front of his helmet to cave in just enough to cut him.

What you saw made you shoot to your feet, your hands gripping the railing in concern. Never in your years of knowing Criston Cole had you ever seen him knocked from his horse in a tournament. He was easily one of the best fighters you knew of, it seemed impossible that this could happen. Had you pushed too far with your teasing? You’d never tried anything during a tournament before, perhaps Ser Jessil’s presence threw him off.

The round didn’t end there. Criston was quick to stand despite his obvious injuries, and his morningstar was swiftly given to him. His helmet had flew from his head when he fell, so his bleeding mouth was for all to see. He was holding his right arm close to his body, making it appear broken or incapable of proper use. Although he was right-handed, he gripped his weapon in his left hand and prepared for a fight. The Bolton Knight was also without a helmet at this point, ditching the damaged armor when he jumped to the ground to grab his sword. His nose was bleeding and looked to be broken from the hit.

“Is his arm broken?” You asked aloud, leaning over the railing a bit in an attempt to see better, “he favors his right.”

Jessil ignored your words, but inched closer so you wouldn’t go over the railing, “Princess, you could fall.”

Criston let the other Knight come to him, not willing to waste any energy. He used his time to look your way, not liking the way your guard was holding your shoulder.

The fight began, but didn’t last long. The Bolton may have made a skilled jouster, but not a fighter. He was no match for the angry Kingsguard, even when he had every advantage. Handicapped from his injuries, Criston swung his Morningstar with his left hand, swiftly hitting his opponent in the head while avoiding any oncoming attacks from the sword. The impact knocked the younger Knight out, but visibly broke his brow bone. Due to the force from the spikes, his face was bleeding badly and the area around his eye was caved in, perfectly mirroring the damage to his helmet.

Half the crowd was silent in shock (including yourself), but the other half was cheering loudly at the violence. You were desensitized to such things at this point in your life, but that didn’t mean you welcomed them. You didn’t like that Criston came so close to losing, or that you have to watch some poor Bolton boy bleed out on the ground for no reason, your shield was too injured to continue to the next round anyways. And due to your being a princess, it would be inappropriate to leave early to check on the Kingsguard member. Because your father wouldn’t allow to be with your sister, you’d made Criston your fixation of the day.

The two of you made eye contact as a few servants rushed over to him, helping him limp off to see a maester. It was soon announced that although neither competitor was continuing to the next round, Criston Cole was technically the winner.

“Well that was certainly a show” You cleared your throat, shaking Ser Jessil’s hand off your shoulder and finally taking your seat once again, “I knew something was going to happen.”

“So you did, Princess.” The Knight nodded curtly, recalling your words earlier, telling him to watch closely.

With Criston gone, your mind shifted back to a pregnant Rhaenyra, who was currently giving birth without your comfort. You stiffen up, nails digging into the railing before exhaling deeply and taking your seat. The two of you return to your proper positions and continued to observe the event for the next few hours, clapping dutifully when an insignificant Lannister won.

x

You made it back to the Red Keep in record time, it seemed. Even Jessil had trouble keeping up with you on your horse as you rushed home. You’d refused the carriage ride, eager to see your sister.

You were sprinting up the nearly infinite steps to her chambers, Jessil following close and maids jumping out of the way. A couple of people tried to stop your entrance, but you only shoved them aside and pushed your way towards your sister.

“Rhaenyra!” You gasped softly, a grin finding its way to your face when you saw her cradling her new baby in bed. After the death of your mother, childbirth was a sensitive subject for you and your sister, you hated being apart during this time. She dismissed the women in the room, leaving just the two of you and her first child.

“I’ve decided on Jacaerys.” She smiled at you as you crawled into the bed beside her.

She’d discussed baby name ideas with you before, with Laenor as well, who suggested Joffrey. Rhaenyra was adamantly against it, and you remembered the distaste you felt hearing it, knowing the implications that would come along if they decided on that name. You’d always liked Joffrey actually, unhappy with his death, but almost all of court heard the rumors of he and Laenor. You’d suggested Jacaerys, a Velaryon sounding name. Rhaenyra didn’t seem overly interested, so you didn’t expect her to choose it.

“Oh, Jacaerys.” You cooed, stroking his little head, full of dark locks. That wasn’t good, not really. Hopefully he took after Rhaenyra in his other features, or else questions of his parentage could arise. Rhaenys was half Baratheon, so that could be used as an excuse. But then the baby boy opened his eyes, revealing big brown orbs that mirrored Harwin Strong’s. You liked Harwin quite a bit, not minding. But the court would mind. You and Rhaenyra would just have to protect him.

“Have you slept yet?” You asked your sister, who hasn’t stopped grinning since you first saw her.

“Not yet, dear sister, I cannot stop looking at his sweet face.”

“Has… his father seen him yet?” You both knew who you meant.

“No. But he will soon enough, when I’m well enough to leave the room.” She gave you a knowing smile, which you returned.

Upon leaving Rhaenyra to rest, you were able to successfully escape Ser Jessil’s supervision with the help of Ser Harwin Strong, and went straight to Criston Cole’s chambers. You found out through your favorite handmaiden that he’d been released from the infirmary, and you took the first opportunity that presented itself to you. You didn’t knock before slipping into his room, but you were sure he wouldn’t mind.

Stepping in, your eyes were drawn to his place on the bed immediately. He was lying down above the blankets, with his arm wrapped and splinted in a sling resting above his bare midsection. His ribs were bruised, but it was apparently nothing bad enough that would need wrapping. Both legs were extended out, with his left pant leg pulled up to the knee to reveal his bruised ankle. He didn’t notice you enter, his eyes were shut and he was likely half-asleep. His face was fine, handsome as always, besides a cut on his nose-bridge that was beginning to darken into a bruise.

“Look at you, my poor sweet thing.” You cooed quietly at him suddenly, waking him from his relaxed state. His eyes shot open, head snapping over to the door.

“My princess.” He gasped. His chambers were much smaller and less impressive than yours, he didn’t want you in such an environment.

“Are you well?” You asked, closing the door as quietly as possible, “The maester says you’ve broken bones.”

“I’m well, I swear it to you. It’s a small break in the arm, everything should heal rather quickly.” He tried to reassure you as you approached, struggling his way into a sitting position, his back against the head board.

You hummed at his clumsy movements, stopping to stand at his bedside. Cute. Criston wasn’t an inherently violent man, at least not with you, so it was easy to forget how strong and dangerous he truly was. It was unnerving to see him injured; weak.

“How quickly would you say?” You asked.

“The maester says a month.” He answered quietly, not willing to admit the extent of his injuries. His primary goal was to get back to you.

You knew the Maester had actually said two months.

“Hm. Who will protect me for a whole month in your absence?” You held back a smirk.

You watched as Criston’s body language immediately changed. Clenching and unclenching his jaw, his leg twitched in frustration.

“I am still fully capable.”

Has he always been this attractive or does jealousy just look good on him?

“My father thinks you should take time to heal.”

He scoffed, shaking his head, “I don’t care what he thinks, you saw what I did to my opponent despite my injuries.”

“You ‘don’t care what he thinks’? He is King.” You said in a mock-scolding tone, lifting your knee to rest in against the bed, close to his lap.

“Yours is the only word to mean anything to me. I listen to no King.” Still seated, he leans forward to get closer.

“Though you listen to me? Only me?” You ask with a smile, batting your lashes at him and leaning in. He doesn’t move to kiss you first, he rarely does. He lets you do as you please, feeling the puffs of air from your giggle on his lips.

“Yes. Only you.” He whispers, his eyes begging you to just kiss him already. But nothing is ever that simple with you, and he knows it well.

You grin at him, leaning in until your lips are just grazing his own, before laughing and pulling away entirely. His face followed yours until you were out of reach, leaving him to huff and fall back against the head board once again. He let out a quiet groan, closing his eyes and tossing his head back so he could catch his breath.

“You’re so easy, Ser Criston.” You snickered. His lips quirked up at your joyous tone, but he resisted the urge to open his eyes. After a few moments of stumbling around the room in amusement, you bit your lip to keep quiet.

Criston went stiff when you fell silent, excited fingers beginning to twitch as the urge to touch you increased. But he was a seasoned warrior at this point in life, and could hear every movement you made. He heard you tiptoe back over to the bed before pausing. The mattress dipped as you climbed onto the bed and landed in his lap, straddling his thighs and avoiding his bruised ribs. It was only when you were on top of him that his eyelids fluttered open to watch you. You gave him a satisfied look. He was happy to let you believe you caught him off-guard.

“Criston?”

“Yes, my Heart?”

“There’s something I have to tell you…” You placed your hands gently on his chest and leaned in, your mouth next to his ear, “and you will not like it.”

“You think me incapable of handling such news?” He asked, a bit breathless.

You smiled, “Of course not. You’re my protector, my strong and most loyal servant. You can handle anything I give you, yes?”

He nodded, unable to speak properly with your lips on his ear.

“My father says that Ser Jessil will be your stand-in as my protector.”

Criston’s good hand immediately moved to your waist, gripping it tightly, “You don’t need anyone else to protect you. Only me.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” You kissed his jaw gently, “but you should heal and rest.”

“I will kill him. Do not doubt me.”

“He would just be replaced.”

“I don’t care, I should kill the next as well.”

“You go against my word?” You pulled back, sitting up fully. He hesitated in his response, so you continued, “Ser Jessil will be your temporary replacement, my King father has said this and I have agreed.”

It was a lie, technically; you didn’t exactly agree to anything. But you weren’t about to let Criston believe he had the power here. He’d started to get a bit too bold.

Your faces were close together now, the two of you holding heavy eye contact. Criston said nothing, though his body language revealed his true feelings easily. He didn’t like that you were taking your father’s side over his own.

“I love you.” He blurted out, brows furrowed in emotion.

Your hands moved up to hold his face, “I know that. I just want you well. You must rest and heal so you can be at your best. Don’t you understand?”

Criston nodded slowly, a satisfied shiver running through him at the thought of you caring so much. His health is truly that important to you?

“Good.” You say with a grin, pecking the corner of his lips and reaching up to pat his messy hair down. His long locks grew wild already, but the style worsened from hours of wearing a helmet.

Giving into you, per usual, the Knight sighed and wrapped his good arm fully around your waist, pulling you close so he could tuck his face into your neck. You cooed at him, returning his embrace and giggling in between your praises.

“I know that this upsets you quite a bit,” You began, gasping in surprise when you felt a warm tongue trail over your throat, “but I don’t mind making you feel better.”

“Feel better you say?” He questioned absentmindedly, more focused on the taste of your skin.

You hummed in confirmation, “I can take care of you in places you may need help with. You know….. here?”

Eyes closed, you placed a delicate touch to the bulge in his pants, smiling when you felt him stiffen beneath you.

Criston Cole was always half-hard around you, your presence alone able to rile him up. He often found himself having to control his thoughts when around other people, not wanting them to notice his… state. As much as he wanted to touch you all over— taste you and love you and worship you— he held a higher respect for you than himself. You were not just a Lady, you were a Princess. He would not dishonor you in such a way, at least not until the two of you were married.

“Princess—” he grunted, mouth dropping open in pleasure briefly before pursing his lips. He pulled his upper body away from you slightly, giving you a bit more space to do what you wanted.

“Oh, it’s fine, Ser Criston. I want to.” You reassured, shrugging because you knew he would end up letting you anyways, “You just look so good bruised up like this, all jealous over some loser, nobody Knight.”

You whispered the last sentence harshly, and Criston loved it. He loved when you degraded other men in comparison to him. He was who you wanted, not that loser, nobody Knight. It didn’t matter that he was low-born or sick in the head, you wanted him anyway.

“You prefer me?” He asked looking up at you, “to him? Tell me...”

“I prefer you to him, Ser Criston Cole. I prefer you to all other men.”

Pulling him by his hair, your lips captured his. Whimpering into your mouth, he now does nothing to stop you from reaching your goal. You smile into the kiss at his surrender.

“… but perhaps you’re right.” You pull away from his lips, but stay close enough to tease, “it would be so dishonorable and you’re injured as well. Hm.”

Criston, his mind in shambles, doesn’t say a word, just sucks his teeth and releases a shaky breath. He doesn’t like to argue with you, he won’t. He’s overwhelmed, you’re so close.

“Can’t think.” He muttered so quietly you almost missed it.

A breathy laugh escaped you before you could stop it, “No? And why is that, Ser? Do I possess you so?”

“Possess? Princess, you are torturing me with your affections. I cannot think of anything else, I cannot focus, I cannot stop shaking.” His voice cracked at the last word and he wasn’t lying, his body trembled.

“Do I dominate your dreams as well?”

“Yes.”

You hum, curious. You knew of his fantasies; his plans to run away, marry, and have many children with you. But you never question the details, allowing them to stay fuzzy so he wouldn’t get too ahead with his scheming. Dreams, however, you could create your own world. “Won’t you share them with me?”

“We ah-” he pauses to take a deep breath, likely attempting to control himself, “You call me by name a lot.”

You tilt your head, a bit confused.

“Not Ser, not dog, not thing— just Criston. The sound of my name from your lips is like music to me. It makes me— I never want you to say another’s name ever again. And uh- a daughter. We have a daughter. She looks like you- so much.”

You begin to shift at his words. A daughter? No Westerosi man wishes for a daughter, at least not before a son, “Daughter you say? Why?”

“She will be you, reborn, carrying my blood. I dream of a baby girl that smiles like you. I will call her my little princess as you are my Princess. A child that is ours.”

“A daughter.” You repeated once more. It was… nice to hear a man express desire for a daughter rather than a son. You and Rhaenyra had suffered due to that mindset, spending most of your lives watching your father desperately try for a son, even at the cost of your mother’s life. He no longer felt that way, but it was too late, the damage had been done. He now had Aegon and Aemond, who he didn’t even pay much attention to. Your mother’s life felt wasted.

“Princess—?”

“A sweet thing it is.” You cut him off, “your dreams are endearing. But I must go now, Jessil has no doubt noticed my absence.”

Criston tensed, “Ab—sence” He croaked, jealousy building.

“Mmhm.” I nodded, “I’ve avoided him thus far, impressively. He may report this to my father if I’m gone any longer.”

Just a few minutes more, his mind screams. But he’s good for you, so he only nods. His jaw is clenched and there’s a noticeable twitch in his expression. His fingertips dig into your sides.

“I don’t want to part with you for so long.”

“Perhaps I’ll visit if you behave.”

x

“He’s clearly a bastard.” Criston spoke quietly, but plainly.

You’d snuck him into your chambers after a long day of cooing over Rhaenyra’s baby boy, Jacaerys. It’d been a couple weeks since his birth and she finally brought him to court for all to see.

“It is treason to suggest such a thing, Ser Cole.” You bitterly defended your sister as you brushed your fair, before rolling your eyes, “And even if it were true, what does it matter who the boy’s father is? He is Rhaenyra’s true son and her heir. The boy is a Targaryen.”

At the risk of upsetting you further, he held his tongue. Being rather low born, Criston grew up having to prove himself through his ability rather than his status. But when he was young, at the end of the day, he was still a rank above bastard children. He had that, at least. He knew that it wasn’t exactly fair, you can’t control who your parents are, but it was a mindset he was raised with and couldn’t shake so easily.

“What if my father marries me off to some Lord I do not love? Are you saying you wouldn’t fuck little bastard babies into me? Babes that look just like you?” You ask him, standing up from your vanity to approach his spot on your bed, feigning innocence.

Face twitching in annoyance, Criston grabbed your wrist and roughly pulled you to his level. With your faces were inches apart, he reached up and gripped your chin. The action made you bite your lip to hide a grin.

“I will be fucking little trueborn babies into you. I’ll make you my wife before giving you children.” He took slight offense to your words. How could you suggest that? You should know he would not let you be married off.

“Oh, of course, My White Knight. You plan to steal me away.”

“Hardly stealing.” He muttered, lovesick eyes staring into yours.

You don’t voice your disagreements, you only laugh. You did not belong to Criston Cole, you belong only to yourself. His words make you think that this game had gone a little too far; he’s getting too confident in his possessiveness. His hesitancy was one of his initial charms for you, and it’s leaving him. Perhaps it’s best to stop entertaining his ideas of a future with you, no matter how cute and pleasant you believe them to be.

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t like it, even just a little?” You tilted your head, his hand still holding your chin softly.

“No.” That’s a lie, maybe just a small amount. Everyone knowing you belong to him, having his kids, despite your status. But the negatives massively outweigh the positives. Not only would it put so much dishonor on you, but Criston isn’t good at controlling his jealousy. He wouldn’t be able to handle you being married to another or his children not having his name.

You smiled knowingly, teasing, “I don’t believe you.”

He released his grasp on your chin, letting you fall closer into him, “I could never be fond of an idea where you are not mine.”

“Well I would be, only secretly.” You pointed out.

“I want you to be mine openly, in every way. By name.”

You knew that wasn’t possible, not even across the sea. But you didn’t want to burst the bubble he’d been constructing for the last year. You let it go. A short silence takes over, not an uncomfortable one, but not the kind you particularly liked. The two of you had extremely different thinking processes, and it was something only amplified when you discussed your ideas for the future. Luckily, your partner was delusional enough that he didn’t notice your discontent with running away.

“Criston?” You ask, letting yourself fall to lie flat beside him. He lets go of your wrist and his eyes follow your moments, as usual. He lies back on the bed as well.

“Yes, my Princess?”

“Why do you desire me the way you do?”

He looked slightly surprised at the question, like he’d never expected you would ask. The truth is, he hadn’t. It wasn’t like you to care why. You were quick to accept things for what they were.

“You’re special to me.” He eventually whispered, “I was made to love you.”

“Made?”

“The gods constructed me only for the purpose of worshipping you. You have bewitched me with no effort. I do not know whether to kiss the ground you walk on or fall to my knees and beg for your continued attention.”

You stare into his big, dark eyes silently. He’s loyal, like a dog. And he’s hopeless like one too. “You’re not exactly a poet, but I suppose that will do.”

He grins, and you can practically feel his heart racing, “Not a poet, no.”

You tear your eyes away from him to glare at the ceiling. “Do not call my nephew a bastard again.”

He tensed at your words, entirely disliking that he’d upset you, and nodded immediately. He was embarrassed, “Yes, my love, I’m sorry.”

You sighed and looked back at him, sitting up once more. “I think you’ll find him charming. Rhaenyra says he reminds her of me already.”

“Well I’m sure to be charmed in that case, aren’t I?”

“Oh, yes, since you’re more than quite charmed by me.”

“Charmed,” He smiled, pupils expanding as he began to fantasize, “I hope to be charmed by our own children one day.”

“Our own?” You entertained, “How many? Including this daughter of ours of course.”

“Five perhaps. More if you’d like.” He took a piece of your hair between his fingers to play with.

“Is that what our lives would look like if you had it your way?”

“If I had it my way,” His eyes shifted back to your own, darkening, “by now you’d be chasing around our first two children as your stomach swelled with our third. You’d be called Lady Cole.”

“Ah, yes. Lady Cole with her many Cole babes.”

Criston had to take a deep breath at that, practically vibrating at the mere thought of you carrying his children and living as his wife.

You giggle at his visible reaction, leaning down to claim his lips. He sighed into the kiss, hesitant hands reaching for your hair. He tugs, trying to urge you closer, onto his lap, “My princess, please.”

“He begs, ‘Please please please’. You are the wantingest man I’ve ever met.” You grin into the kiss, allowing him to take you into his lap.

“I will never have shame in begging you. My life belongs to you, I am yours.” His words are beginning to slur slightly, “It’s only natural for me to be greedy when you are the one who claims my heart.”

“Always trying to impress me with your words,” You playfully roll your eyes, “you’re nearly healed, you know. Ready to return to my side?” It was a lie, he had good a bit left of healing to do.

“I never should have left.” He squirmed, trying not to show his anger. He never left, not willingly. He was removed.

“Of course, of course.” You tugged on the dark hair at the back of his neck, “The man who’s been with me is utterly serious. Neither I nor Rhaenyra like him.”

Criston listened to your complain about your temporary shield with a sense of pride and giddiness. He was relieved you disliked his replacement. But the mention of your sister disliking him as well did nothing for him, as the princess Rhaenyra didn’t like most men surrounding you, Criston himself included. She never vocalized it much, but he noticed when she tensed and sneered when he got too close to you. He wondered if she knew about your relationship.

“I’m more your taste, Princess?”

A grin found its way to your face and you nodded, “That’s right, I can do whatever I please to you and you only bask in my attention.”

He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, argue with that. While he had his own boundaries of sorts, they were completely disregarded in your presence and he didn’t even mind it.

To prove your point, you began to kiss his jaw, sweet and gentle kisses. Criston hummed, closing his eyes and tilting his head back only slightly. You nipped at the delicate skin, comfortable with leaving just a few marks because he was still out of action; not many people would be seeing him anyways.

“G-gods-” he choked out.

“The gods cannot save you, I’m afraid.” You giggle.

“I beg them not to.”

You giggle at his dazed voice and expression, blowing cool air on his neck and enjoying his shiver. His hands keep twitching. Just to tease, you kept your face tucked into him, kitten licking at the skin until you felt something wet hit your cheek. Pulling away slightly, you quickly identified the source of the warm liquid; blood was dripping from Criston’s nose, falling over his lips down to his chin.

“S-sorry, your grace. I’m overwhelmed is all.” He muttered, hand immediately going up to face to stop the dripping. But you only pull his hand away with a smirk.

“You know,” you begin, thumbing some of the blood and smearing it over his lips, “in the way of Old Valyria, we share blood when we marry.”

“Please, please,” he croaks, big dark eyes boring desperately into your own. They’re shiny and lack any coherent thoughts, “Don’t say such things to me now— can’t control myself.”

“We use dragon glass to cut one another’s lip,” you take your bloodied thumb and swipe red onto your bottom lip, “then we kiss to show we are of the same blood now.”

His leg begins to bounce and he has to look away from your face. His nose continues to drip blood, but neither of you move to stop it this time.

“You like that idea~ i can tell because you’re shaking.” You giggle into his ear.

“M’not shaking-” he replies, but even his voice trembles.

“Well you’re bleeding, is that not a sign?” You tilt your head, “perhaps you’re unwell, should I stop?”

Before he can beg you not to stop, his sharp ears catch the sound of clicking armor in the hall. He tenses, almost forgetting he was in the Princess’ chambers; he doesn’t know how when yours was easily three-times the size of his own. There was no need to panic and hide, people were not permitted to just walk in.

Three hard knocks sounded throughout the room, causing Criston to freeze. Your expression didn’t change, as you’d heard the footsteps.

“Who is it? Do not enter please.” You answered, your eyes not leaving your knight’s. As nervous as he was, Criston maintained eye contact and didn’t move a muscle. With a small grin, your hand traveled back up to his chin, which was now smeared with blood. As your fingers traced his features, you leaned in close to his ear to place a few gentle kisses there.

“Princess, it’s Ser Jessil. Your sister, the Princess Rhaenyra, has sent for you. She is… perhaps you should open the door to let me explain. It concerns your safety.”

Your reactions vary; Criston’s posture is still stiff and he’s growing annoyed at the knight’s presence. It’s almost offensive how this pathetic creature is trying to protect you when that’s his job. But you’re worried, though you won’t show it. Rhaenyra? Is something wrong? But something about it didn’t make sense; if your safety was threatened, then why did Rhaenyra know first and why did Jessil bother knocking at all?

“I’d prefer you explain from where you are.”

You could hear his sigh through the door, an impressive feat, “She is suspicious that a knight of the king is sneaking into your chambers.”

Probably because it was true, you thought, glancing at a stiff and unhappy Criston.

“Let me ready myself and I will speak with her at once.” As you began to shift off of your shield, but he only pouted and desperately hung on. He had the mind to keep quiet, but his heart wouldn’t allow you to leave him.

“… Yes, Princess.”

You turned to him sternly, “Let go, Criston. Don’t be foolish, just hide for now and be gone when we leave.” You quietly scolded and his grip loosened.

He clenches his jaw, the most common hint to his annoyance, and said nothing. He allowed you to pull him up by the hand and drag him over to your wardrobe, shutting him in with a last apologetic kiss.

“Be good.” You uttered, and his gaze softened for a moment before the door shut in his face.

He could hear you shuffle around, dressing quickly to see your sister. He sucked his teeth angry. Did he deserve mistreatment? To an extent, yes, he could admit that. But this wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t you just— stay? Tell him to kill that bothersome knight and be done with him entirely. His fists clenched. He’d kill him— and soon. Right now even. Then he’d take you away and give you a nice little home with sweet little silver-haired babies. Criston was growing sick of waiting, it was eating him up inside. You affected him so severely, it was showing itself physically. He brought a hand up to the crimson liquid that had finally stopped leaking from his nose.

You were gone now— he knew this because he could feel when you were near. But someone was in your chambers, someone closer to his size. He could hear the metal clanking of heavy armor. The person was looking for something, an intruder most likely. But Criston was not the intruder here. The idea of someone who wasn’t him being in your space made him burn with anger. That was fine, he decided, he’d handle it. With balled up fists, he stepped out from the wardrobe.

x

“Has Ser Jessil been good to you, little sister?”

You shrugged at Rhaenyra, your chin resting in your hand as you leaned on the table. It wasn’t polite, but you were comfortable in her presence, “He’s fine, I suppose.”

“But you prefer that dog of yours.” Your sister teased. You could tell she didn’t like that— didn’t like Criston. You understood.

“He’s good, listens well.”

“Not for long— I can see it well. He’s a sick thing, sister.”

“I can handle him, he does as I ask.”

“He’s greedy, an oath breaker.”

You hummed in agreement, “He has pretty eyes.”

Rhaenyra scoffed with a grin at your reply, “He will try to steal you away. Not just that, but he’s also obvious. Painfully so. If I know, someone else does too. He needs to be put out. Be rid of him.”

“I… understand that he’s got troublesome feelings. But he’s become something of a pet to me now.” You pouted and your sister sighed, not fond of upsetting you.

“When I ascend the throne, he will be gone. I worry he’ll be your downfall.” She wasn’t being dramatic, she’d disliked the man for years and saw every bit of concerning behavior he displayed. She saw clearly his desperation to leave with you. When it comes time for you to marry, he’ll go mad.

You knew whatever you had with Criston wasn’t permanent, but to hear your elder sister give away her intentions of getting rid of him really struck you. “He’s brainless, Rhaenyra. Just a dog, truly. He can hardly read. He’s only a threat physically, and he would never hurt me.”

Rhaenyra sighed, wrinkling her nose in distaste for the man. She used to be like you, still was sometimes, but she would protect you from her mistakes. She would not allow any whispers at court of you being a whore and your children being bastards, not like her. Since the birth of Jacaerys, she’d grown just a bit more serious, and much more protective.

“You needn’t be literate to kill a man.” She replied after a brief silence.

You held back a huff. The truth was that Criston could read fine these days, though not nearly at the level you could. You’d only said that to give the illusion of harmlessness. Unfortunately, Rhaenyra would never buy it; she had seen the knights he’d bloodied during tournaments.

“I’ll be harder on him then, perhaps add a bit of distance. But, sister, he is important. As a member of the Kingsguard, his support and loyalty will aid your claim. One more soldier on our side— a good one.”

“I will not sacrifice you for my cause.”

“I’ve told you, he will not harm me—”

“It’s more complex than that—!”

It felt like you were 13 and 14 again, bickering over something that was caused by your sisters protectiveness.

No, you will not be coming with me. You will sleep in your bed and I will wake you myself come morning!

If that stable boy looks at you that way again, I will have father or Uncle Daemon take his eyes— probably Daemon.

No, sister. You are mad if you think I’m letting you anywhere near a wild dragon—!

You sometimes think that Criston and Rhaenyra hate one another because they are a bit similar.

“Nyra,” you groaned, head in hands, “I will fix it, you’re right, he has become a bit… extreme lately. But you must admit he’d be beneficial to our cause.”

Although Rhaenyra was legally the heir to the throne, there were already whispers of putting Alicent’s son, Aegon, on the throne in her place. Criston wasn’t very powerful politically, but he was a brilliant fighter and his words as a Kingsguard held just a bit of sway.

She furrowed her brows, “You’re too fond of him.”

You shrugged, standing up, “Perhaps. But I’m no fool; you come first. I will never flee with him.”

“And when he realizes that?”

You didn’t have an answer. You passed Harwin Strong on your way out, and bit your tongue to stop myself from calling out the hypocrisy.

What was the difference between her and Harwin vs you and Criston?

x

Well for starters, Harwin didn’t murder any man who entered Rhaenyra’s vicinity. Criston on the other hand…

By the time you returned to your chambers, the entire stone floor was red, the liquid seeping into your intricate carpet you’d had since you were a child. There was no body, suggesting that Criston had already gotten rid of it or the victim managed to escape. (But that was unlikely, Criston was a beast in a fight, and his temper was unmatched.)

“Princess.” Criston croaked from behind you, in the open doorway. He’d just arrived, and it took only one glance at him to know what he’d done. Blood covered his hands, arms, and chest. It was splattered from his face all the way down to his knees. He was in his civilian clothes still, rather than any armor due to being put on leave. His eyes were shiny, some sense of desperation in them, and he was fiddling with his red hands. Nervous. Why were you back so early? The sling for his arm was gone, though he surely still needed it.

“Is—” You cleared your throat. “Is he alive?”

But judging by the brain matter on the ground, you knew the answer was—

“No.” Direct and honest. He took a few steps forward, shutting the door behind him. You weren’t scared of him necessarily— you knew well enough at this point that he’d never hurt you. But he didn’t look quite human at the moment, so you took a step back.

Your simple shuffle backwards was enough to send him into a panic.

He dropped to his knees, blood soaking into his breeches as he inched closer, “My love— he was threat! He would’ve found me in here—” He babbled on about protecting you, begging for you not to be afraid. You let him talk, focused on the blood.

“Clean this up.” You finally muttered, patting him quickly on the head to avoid soaking yourself with the crimson liquid.

As much as a part of you wanted to coo at him ‘good dog’, you couldn’t. This was messy— emotional and obvious. Risky. He was a bad dog, a stupid one even. He wasn’t like Harwin— manageable. He was something else entirely. You liked him how he was, violently loyal and protective, but you couldn’t have it.

He quickly agreed to clean it and began to calm down, which led him to notice your own unease. He flinched when he saw how much blood seeped into your shoes and skirt, pulling you into his arms and placing you on your favorite stool.

He was cooing at you, “Sweet Princess, don’t worry about this, yes? I’ll rid you completely of this man, I swear it. I allowed his blood to soil your clothes, I’m sorry.”

Criston kissed at your collar bones down your arms to your palms.

“Criston,” his eyes shot up to meet yours. Big brown heart eyes. “No more of this, not in this castle.”

His hands tightened slightly around your wrists, “But you like it.” He muttered.

“It isn’t about that—!” You held your tongue, deciding to take a smarter approach, “My sweet Criston, the people in the Keep will soon notice a pattern, I cannot let that happen. My sister needs nothing in her way of that crown.”

He nearly scoffed, “Is it always about your sister and her crown? I have protected you again! From-from these perverts who wish to—”

“You’re the pervert-!”

“You love me! You love it! How you affect me— how you can physically see every thought that goes through my head about you! You love how perverted I am for only you! I see you— I love every part of you, even the part that gets off on a Kingsguard soiling his cloak for you!” Criston was shaking, “I am sick, and you cannot get enough! Just as I will never tire of you— I need you!”

There was silence, besides his heavy breathing. You didn’t expect such self-awareness, and you didn’t like it. You liked him better dumb, but it appeared he never was fully clueless. His brown eyes were wide and a shade darker than usual.

“Sit.” You commanded and he did, “Just clean this up.”

x

[taglist] @3abydolll @pearlstiare @caramelcandescence @eilishchaos @watercolorskyy

The Rhaenyra/Criston beef is gonna go crazy in the prequel

im hoping you guys noticed, but this chapter was meant to emphasize the lack of control the reader truly has on criston. like yeah, he worships you and is willing to do almost anything you say, but his urges control him more than anything else ever will. this is going to be a common theme in the future. i also wanted this chapter to show more daily life and readers relationship with rhaenyra compared to part i.

[essiemclaren]

lingering ties

pt 1

College!au

In which reader and Oscar, now broken up, must co-parent their (fur) baby

warning/s: cursing and mention of alcohol consumption

reader's chat with oscar

reader's post on twitter/x

oscar's post on twitter/x

unibros gc

unibro's twitter/x

reader's chat with oscar

part 2

--

a/n: omg??? what?? an oscar smau??? ME?? DOING?? IT?? LFGGG LMAOAOAOA anyway, what do you guys think of this one? 🤔 let me knowwww!! this is my first time doing an f1 smau about oscar, soooo 🤷 DID I ALSO MENTION THAT THIS IS A COLLEGE AU??? different from what i make, but i just want to turn it up a bit 😏 also advance sorry this isnt an update for muo 💔 but i swear, i will be working on it!!

should this be a short series orrrr? i guess we'll never know 🤷

let me know if you want to be tagged!!

love, essie

bored? still waiting for a new part? are you a fan of lando? here's a smau fic i made!

[lnlightning81]

Dinner - Part Two

Series Title : Younger Sister

Summary: Lando takes you out to dinner with some of the other drivers and he picks up on your nervous habit.

Pairing/s: Oliver Bearman x Norris!Reader, Lando Norris x Sister!reader , Grid x Norris!Reader

Warning/s : Mentions of anxiety and food

Word Count : 1.5k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Oliver Bearman Masterlist

Lando Norris Masterlist

Previous

Lando had convinced you to go out to dinner with him and some of the other drivers that he was close with. Which just happened to be most of them. Lando was now walking around the hotel room, waiting for you to finish getting ready.

“Y/N can we please leave?” He whined, throwing his phone on his bed again 

“Wait a second. I can’t get this earring in” Lando rolled his eyes, throwing himself back on the bed, obviously bored of waiting. 

“Okay we can go now” You smiled 

“About fucking time. Let’s go” He got up walking out of the hotel room. You followed behind him trying to keep up with him and his stupidly large steps.

“Lando please slow down” you whined, and he stopped walking in front of the elevator, pressing the button.

“Or just walk faster” He shrugged, and you shoved him. 

“Lando please. I don’t want us to do this thing again” you whispered, stepping into the elevator as it arrived. Lando looked over at you 

“Y/N I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that” Lando wrapped his arms around you tightly. 

“You owe me dessert” you muttered, and he chuckled as the doors to the elevator opened again, and you walked out with Lando’s arms still around your shoulder. Lando unlocked his car, and you got into the passenger seat. You and Lando sang along to whatever song came on the radio, your little disagreement long forgotten.

Getting out of the car, Lando walked in front of you into the restaurant, playing with your fingers. You bumped into his back when he stopped at the welcome table. Lando rested his hand on your shoulder as he led you over to the table where there were at least twelve drivers and some girlfriends. 

Lando sat down, and you sat down next to him. Lando instantly joined in on a conversation and picked up the menu. Pierre’s girlfriend Francisca introduced herself to you as she sat next to you. She gently rubbed your arm with a smile 

“I promise the more you’re around these people, the less intimidating they get. Have you seen anything you want to eat?” She smiled politely, and only now had you realised that you hadn’t even looked at the menu since you got here. Obviously, you looked before you left the hotel room

“I haven’t looked at the menu yet” you replied, and she nodded 

“The spaghetti is really nice if you’re looking for suggestions” She smiled, and you picked up the menu, looking at it. Lando caught your eye as the waitress took everyones drink orders

“Are you planning on going to university?” Charles asked from the other side of the table

“Not just now. I want to follow Lando around the world for a little bit. School is fun but travelling sounds like more fun” You smiled, and he nodded

“I think you’ll love travelling” He smiled. The waitress came back with your drinks and took the food orders. Only ordering a main and dessert, both of which where you go to meals wherever you go to eat. 

“No starter?” Lando asked, and you shook your head 

“There’s nothing safe” you muttered, and he nodded, rubbing your arm. Lando knew exactly what you meant. There was nothing on the menu that tasted the exact same wherever you ate, and most of it you had never tried before. Lando joined back in with conversations with other drivers as you took the time to look around the restaurant, taking in the decorations. 

The lights were dim, which made it quite relaxing. There were plants dotted around the restaurant that looked fake, but they ranged from succulents to pretty flowers. On the table there was little lanterns with some fake tea lights inside and in the middle of all the tables that were pushed together ,a bouquet of flowers, they were fake but beautiful with flowers like roses, carnations, eucalyptus and gypsophila all in a colour scheme that matched the restaurant. 

“So Y/N any fun childhood stories of Lando?” Pierre asked, and you nodded 

“He once sent me to the hospital” you shrugged, catching Lando rolling his eyes. Max laughed, already knowing the story because it actually happened during lockdown while Lando was gaming with both Max’s and some of Quadrant. 

“That’s not a childhood story” Lando exclaimed 

“I was still a child when it happened!” You replied, turning to look at him 

“Not a childhood story” 

“You were twenty. I was like fifteen. Childhood” You argued back

“Okay. What happened, though?” Carlos asked, now interested in whatever had happened. 

“Go on then. You brought it up” Lando pushed, and you rolled your eyes 

“So during lockdown well, it was kinda just after lockdown while you lot were waiting for racing to start again. Lando was gaming and I went in with some snacks for him and to annoy him but he wasn’t happy that I disturbed his game so he pushed me and I fell because I have no balance and I fell into his glass cabinet” You explained and Lando pushed your arm 

“You make it sound so dramatic” He rolled his eyes

“You cut my arm open! It was dramatic. Glass and your stupid helmets aren’t soft to land on” The dutchman on the other side of the table was still laughing as was George Russell who had actually been one person to ask if you were okay after Lando sent you flying. Now, you all laughed about the story. 

“Any other stories?” Alex asked, and you nodded 

“There’s many. Not enough time to tell them all” You were thankful that the food showed up and being high performance athletes they all instantly started eating their starters. 

Ollie, who was at the end of the table next to Liam Lawson, both looked like they had been dragged here by their team members. They were both driving in Free Practice one which is why you assumed they were there. Ollie and Liam were in their own conversation, much like most of the drivers around the table. You didn’t feel like you knew anyone enough to join in on the conversations. 

Lando soon brought you in on the conversation between him, Oscar, and Lily, but you now had to sit and try and figure out what they were talking about. Ah, being at school while connected to F1. Lily explained her experience of random people asking her for her autograph. 

“Any experience like that Y/N?” Lily asked, and you shook your head 

“I actually hid everything about Lando up until graduation when he showed up at it. When he got into F1, I changed my phone wallpaper to a subtle picture of the two of us. Blocked Lando’s main from my instagram following until like the last week of school. I did everything to hide it. Not because I’m embarrassed or anything, just I’m a lot more introverted than Lando” Lily nodded in understanding 

“It’s not easy. I bet everyone freaked out at graduation” She chuckled, and you nodded

“Our sixth form group chat really blew up when everyone spotted him just sitting there. At first no one knew who he was there for until he got a bit too excited when my name was called then the group chat blew up even more especially with the girls who just wanted to date him. The fans were too shocked to do anything” You laughed

“Then Ollie followed me, so the sixth form group chat blew up even more to the point I had to mute it” Ollie looked up as you said his name, and you smiled over 

“I follow you as well” Oscar added, and you nodded 

“Yeah but one you’ve got a girlfriend and two you’re still kinda new to the sport” You shrugged, and he nodded 

“Fair enough” He shrugged as the main meals arrived. You started to eat yours but soon realised that it wasn’t as good as you thought it would be or maybe that was just the nerves of eating in front of so many new people. Lando’s arm rested on the back of your chair as he rubbed your shoulder. You turned to look at him, and he gave you a soft smile 

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, nudging his head towards your plate 

“Just not too hungry” you replied, and he nodded. 

Soon, you were back in the hotel laying on your bed as Lando sat on your bed 

“Are you sure everything's okay? You don’t have to travel with me” Lando turned to look at you 

“I think it was just anxiety. I don’t know anyone too well yet” you replied, and he nodded 

“Okay well I promise I’ll help you get to know everyone. I think Ollie seemed happy to help you meet everyone” He smiled, and you looked down 

“Yeah, I’m sure he would probably” You smiled, and he nodded, moving back to his own bed. You went back to texting Ollie secretly

Previous Next Part

Tag List

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[xerotiny99]

2 AM Call // Our Precious #1

2 AM Call (Our Precious series #1)

M.list ┃Next Part

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader

Warning: dom!yunho, sub!reader, suggestive, sexting, phone sex, a lot of dirty talk (seriously, really filthy), masturbating, etc...

Note: if any of the above-mentioned topics trigger you then you can click off. :) also, do not proceed if you're below 18.

An Extra Note: this is a mini - or - a long series, and I'm too lazy to make a different book for it. Hence, I'll be adding all the planned/written chapters of this series in this book. It'll be in second person pov, but instead of writing [y/n] — cause I'm too lazy, really — I'll be writing Angel. So, the reader's name is Angel for this series. This series revolves around polygamy, which means the reader will be involved with ot8; the chapters will unfold slowly from the beginning and follow a storyline.

Gist: being in your sophomore year of college, you meet a very cute and handsome bookstore clerk. You happen to exchange numbers and on the same night, he's all you can think about. When you decide to ring him up, it's 2 AM and both of you have different things on your minds.

Word Count: 5,471

Lehninger.

Lehninger.

Albert Lehninger.

Principles of Biochemistry.

         You grumble under your breath, shifting your eyes chaotically around the shelves of hardcover books aligned in alphabetical order. The wooden shelves feature biochemistry books, and out of all these, you needed only one, which apparently was too hard for your eyes to search. Scorching sun outside is far less preferable than the air conditioning of the second-hand bookstore you were in, so you decide to stay in and pass a few more minutes looking through the books.

Maybe, you could find something worthwhile in store, perhaps something other than textbooks and thesis unrelated to your university work. Sighing, you bend over slightly to grasp the titles inscribed on the spines of several other books.

"It could be here, maybe." you thought to yourself.

"Hi, how can I help you?" a cheery yet raspy voice cuts through your thoughts, "are you looking for a specific book?"

Your attention turns towards the humbly speaking man, and once your gaze falls onto him, and his smile, you hold your breath. He was...ethereal; clad in a beige coloured cardigan and a white turtleneck under it, the man's demeanour was stoic and poised yet friendly and warm. Towering over and looking down at your petite stature, he smiles widely, politely waiting for you to reply. You take a minute longer to stare and notice all finer details on his face; his porcelain skin, pretty pink lips, a straight nose—almost sculpted, and his innocently shaped doe eyes just boring into yours.

There it goes without saying, you were drooling over him. He was attractive, no doubt, but the way he offered you a benign smile made your heart lurch a bit was far more beguiling than his looks. In all seriousness, it had been more than a minute or two since you had been silently checking him out; you had failed to notice the heap of books he was holding in his arms before, but now that you do, you mentally groan at his bulging arms with prominent veins on the back of his hands.

"Hello—"

"—yeah, no. I mean, I was actually looking for...Lehninger—um, biochemistry?" you stutter and ramble, lastly stringing your words into a question.

"Oh, wait. Give me a minute, I'll check it in our database." Carrying the books in his hands, he nudges you to follow him with a nod.

You do cluelessly follow him but enjoy the view of his rear; you really needed to snap out of it! He guides you to the front desk where the cash register was situated, and a computer was stowed away on the other side of it. Thump the books go, having been put down on the desk by him before he leans over the computer to type. Standing on the other side of the desk, you watch him do the work, with your arms folded over your chest.

In the heat of the moment, you're reeling back to checking him out; silverbluish hair styled in a mullet, the puffy strands kissing the collar of his turtleneck, his eyelashes batting every two seconds at the blaring computer screen—you bite down on your lip when libidinous thoughts swarm your mind. His hands, those sleek fingers pressing down the keys on keyboard...how good would those feel as they're pumping in and out of your cunt.

"Oh, okay. Got it!" he squeals softly, turning to you, "looks like we've got one copy of the sixth edition. Would that be alright?"

You flinch, snapping from your thoughts and realising you really needed to get laid, at least to get your mind straight.

"Ah," you take some time to comprehend his words, "sure. I don't mind, to be honest. Only need it as a reference for my assignment."

"You could've issued this book at the university library, why didn't you?" he asks, stepping out from the counter and guiding you back to the wooden shelves.

You look at your feet, stumbling behind him, unsure of what to say. "I believe it's better to have a personal copy instead of issuing it from the library since I'm going to need till my senior year. Couldn't afford a new one, so I thought why not invest in a second-hand."

He heaves out a gentle chuckle, halting his steps in front of a shelf. "That's fair. So, Horizon University?"

"Yeah," you mumble. "Got a scholarship and everything...how did you..."

"It's the only university close by, and I'm in my senior year there, well, at the end of it—only one more month left till I graduate." he starts rummaging through the racks in the shelf to find your book. "Dance major."

"Sophomore year here, zoology major." he hums, looking at you and pulls out a thick book from the shelf. You continue in a hushed voice, "I've still got two years left in that hellhole."

"You don't like the university?" he questions, as a matter of factly.

"No. Not really. Not that I know I can't make friends for fucks sake," you state.

"You haven't met the right kind of people yet, it's fine. You will soon." he flashes you a toothy grin. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, I'm good." you whisper, "I'll hopefully vibe with someone soon, can't be alone all the time."

"Like I said, you will. Hang in there," he reassures you with his smile going deep in his cheeks, "I'll ring this up for you, come on."

By the cash register, you pay the respective amount while he puts the book in a paper bag having the store's name printed on top of it.

As he hands you the bag, he chimes, "there you go."

You take the bag in your hands, but don't leave just yet; you didn't want to leave him. Drawn to his charismatic presence, you stay behind for a long second. You're staring into each other's eyes, intently lingering onto the disguised inklings in either of your minds. The space around you seems so suffocating, heavy and laden with thick air. In the pit of your stomach, there's an urge you want to act on, you want to tear your gaze away from him and continue on with the rest of your day.

But you can't.

And your heart doesn't want to, thinking there's a possibility of you engaging with him on a romantic level.

From the corner of your eye, you watch his lips twitch into a tiny smile; he scurries his hand on the desk and pulls out one of the store's business cards. He has a sharpie ready on him, and scribbles something on the back of the card.

"Just in case, here's my number. Give me a call, or a text. Would like to hang out with you some time," he slides the cards across the desk to you, "I'm Yunho, by the way."

You take the card and slip it in the pocket of your dress; yes, you wore a clingy summer dress with pockets because pockets are a lifesaver.

"My name's Angel."

"I look forward to hearing from you, Angel."

And you did find something better in there, other than books.

The day rolls by as smoothly as it should, after leaving the bookstore you make your way back to your dorm room in the university to keep the book in your room and grab your laptop as you decide to spend the rest of your morning in the campus cafe. Musty notes of coffee linger in the air while you save Yunho's contact into your phone and work a little on your assignment. All your lectures, you whiled the time thinking about Yunho—his face, his voice, his fingers, his body—you were starting to realise how reprehensibly had this man taken up every fraction of your mind.

You weren't complaining, though. But it was proving to be very distracting amidst your lectures. Coming back to your dorm room, lethargic from the humdrum day of lectures and practical work, you lay in your bed. Mindlessly, you pick your phone and go through your socials, especially Yunho's. He has to have an Instagram page at least. And to your surprise, he does. You come across a public account with few of his photos. You didn't get to see much of him however, as the photos were mostly of him either looking away from the camera or hiding his face behind his hands. Heaving an exasperated sigh, you lock your phone and go on about the rest of your day.

As night dawns in, you're back in your bed after eating dinner. You've done all of your nightly routine and are freshly showered. You wear a dark brown cardigan over your black lingerie; really not in the mood to change into sleepwear because of the buzzing heat of summer. Again, mindless thoughts pop in your head and you grab your phone to check any texts from your nonexistent friends. It's not like you didn't have any friends, you didn't prefer to make friends—regardless, you did have one friend in the entirety of your university. He was a bunny-eyed man with deep brown hair, and a baby yet stoic face; Choi Jongho. But you spoke to him occasionally and only interacted when needed to.

Opening the messaging app on your phone, you almost make sure to have a double take when you see Yunho's name at the top with very recent messages from him. Yep. It was him. You checked it twice only to be sure and it was his contact number. Stifling a squeal, you open your chats.

Yunho: Hey! Just wanted to make sure you got to your dorm room safely. And how's that book working out for you?

[Sent 22:39 pm Read 1:06 am]

So, he needed an excuse to text you. How adorable.

You: Hi Aren't you quick to text me? ^^ It's alright. And... The book makes me want to hit my head against a wall.

[Sent 1:07 am Read 1:07 am]

Yunho: Ouch :( I have no idea what works in biochemistry. Sadly. But hang in there! And ofc Thought I'd keep you company since you're a loner.

[Sent 1:09 am Read 1:10 am]

You: I have friends, mister!

[Sent 1:10 am Read 1:12 am]

Yunho: Yeah You do Imaginary friends don't count.

[Sent 1:12 am Read 1:13 am]

You: I do have a friend! Don't underestimate me.

[Sent 1:14 am Read 1:15 am]

Yunho: "a" friend I'm not tbh But who's this friend?

[Sent 1:16 am Read 1:17 am]

You: He's in my department We've got couple of classes together

[Sent 1:17 am Read 1:18 am]

Yunho: well then I'll let you talk to him

[Sent 1:19 am Read 1:19 am]

You felt a pang of pain bubble in your chest, but your mind couldn't figure out why you were hurting over his response.

You: Why do you sound mad?

[Sent 1:19 am Read 1:35 am]

Yunho: I'm not :)

[Sent 1:35 am Read 1:36 am]

You: k.

You roll your eyes and blink away the weirdness. Now, your silly anguish had been replaced with anger and frustration. In fact, you wondered why you felt so silly about this ordeal when he was the one to initiate texting you. They say men have a golden rule of texting, that is, they'd wait three days until texting. But it turns out Yunho was little too eager to talk to you. Shaking your head, you sit up straight in your bed and puff your cheeks. Your eyes glaze over your reflection in the full-length mirror in front of your closet.

An idea sparks your curiosity, and you smirk to yourself. Bringing your phone back in your hand, you angle it at a specific point to get your entire body in the frame. You take a mirror selfie, perched by the edge of the bed, your cardigan loosely hanging over your shoulder to expose your lingerie and a good amount of your cleavage, your hair flowing down on one side of your shoulder, and your eyes remain emotionless. Having no perceivable clue of your behaviour, you slump yourself back in bed and purposely send the picture to Yunho. You wait for a minute to pass when you text him back.

You: *sent attachment*

You: Oh god! Didn't meant to send it to you. Can you delete it, please?

[Sent 1:45 Read 1:45]

Yunho: Oh ... Well I saw it. And it's only fair if you... *sent attachment*

[Sent 1:46 Read 1:47]

You feel the buzz in your head, upon checking out the attachment he sent you. Thinking it'd be a normal photo, you didn't pay too much attention to it, but maybe you should have, and you did exactly at your second take of the photo. It was him, obviously; he was sitting in a gaming chair, legs widespread, wearing his loose sweatpants under a haze of dim lights of his room. One of his hands held his phone as he clicked the picture, while the other palmed his crotch. And then you saw it, his boner, protruding from the sweatpants. You mentally tried to gauge his size by the pronounced outline on his pants. And you were impressed.

The heaviness in your head grows when you notice his sly smirk in the photo, and the bulging veins on both of his hands; he wanted to rile you up, just the way you did. Though, if there could be a difference, you did it out of spite and he was doing it to get back to you. Squeezing your thighs together, you tried to control your urges, the same stupefying urges you got when you saw him in the bookstore this morning. The suppression of your desire leads to you heaving out a deep breath, wanting to get back at him for ruining your peace with that photo.

You: someone's all worked up. what were you thinking about?

[Sent 1:50 am Read 1:51 am]

Yunho: Just something Or someone

[Sent 1:51 am Read 1:52 am]

You: I wouldn't mind taking a peek in your head ;)

[Sent 1:53 Read 1:53]

Yunho: Do you really want to know what I'm thinking about?

[Sent 1:54 Read 1:55]

You: Yes Unless you don't want to.

[Sent 1:56 Read 1:57]

Yunho: I'd be the one to ask you that Are you sure you want to know?

[Sent 1:57 Read 1:58]

For some reason you could picture him with a conceited smile on his face, still sitting on the chair and his legs wide apart while he rubs his cock through his sweats.

You: You like teasing don't you?

Yunho: Oh I love it

You: I'll tell you what. I've been thinking about you since the morning

Yunho: Hmm Likewise I've been thinking about all the things I'd do to you if you were here with me

You: and what would you do?

You draw in a sharp breath, chest heaving up and down when your mind fogs with the thoughts of him doing filthy things to you.

Yunho: For the starters... I'd gently kiss your lips While ripping the buttons off your sweater Taking it off Letting my hands roam your body

Reading his texts, you pull at the buttons on your sweater, one by one and eventually shrugging it off from your body. You tremble slightly as you proceed to text him with one hand.

You: Go on...

Yunho: I'd pin you to the bed Make sure your hands are above your head Kiss you so hungrily. use my hands to feel all of you. And take off whatever that's remaining on your body Id tease you a hell a lot Fukc Ferl your bdy shuddre under mine when I drg my fingerss down to yor wet pussy Pusj my fingers deep in you knuckles feep Make you mewl as my fingers pumped in and out ... Fuck I want you so bad

That was the point of no return for you, you were deeply invested in this game, in this stupid act of desperation where all you could think about was his texts. It brings your colourful imagination to mind, visualising his texts as you rub your fingers on your now-aroused cunt through your dripping wet panties. you noticed the typos in his texts, probably from him typing with his one hand while his other remained busy. 

Taking a deep breath, you rest against the headboard of your bed, your legs spread a little to make it easier for your hands to rub you. You bite your lip, thinking more of him, thinking of his sleek fingers sawing you out while he's knuckles deep in your cunt.

You: I want you too So so bad I want your fingers in me I want you to loosen me up nice for your cock to pound into me

You finally decide to push your panties to the side, while ghosting your fingers over your clit before you let them submerge in your heat. Your arousal coats your fingers as they slick back and forth, at a steady pace, in your cunt. Your mind is already long gone to the end where you were only yearning for him to make you feel good. Noticing how your phone hadn't buzzed for a long time, you shift your attention to it and instead of his texts, you see him calling you. Hesitation knocks at your door, but you're too far gone from rationality to think about it. As you answer his call and press your phone to your ear, you hear his ragged breathing. It brushes your ear and tickles you, springing up goosebumps on your skin, as though he was right next to you in your bed.

"You really know how to make a man all worked up, don't you?" he hisses, "don't worry, princess. I'll make you feel good."

You take in another deep breath through your mouth, bringing your fingers out of your cunt. Hovering them over your chest, you push the cups of your bra down and grope your breasts; you pinch your nipples, fondle and knead your tits to get yourself in the mood. He doesn't know about it, but your fantasies run wild—with him as he fills his hands with your tits, groping and fondling them, maybe even more.

"What is my Angel doing right now? Are you touching yourself at the thought of me pinning you down to the bed and fucking you relentlessly?" he asks, and your mind pictures it word to word.

"Yes. I want you to—I want you to fuck me foolish—make me—make me see stars—while—while your cock rams into me..." you stutter, struggling to strip yourself out of your lingerie.

"Pretty filthy thoughts for a beautiful face like yours, Angel." His tone is teasing as he continues, "wanting a stranger you just met to do all these vile things to you...you're a cum-slut aren't you?"

Dirty talk was never your cup of tea, it made you cringe internally but there was something about Yunho's deep and sultry voice that made you wet, insanely wet. You bite your lip, conscience half gone to the sound of his trembling breathing, and rub your clit—the sensation only brings butterflies in your stomach, because in your mind those were his fingers and not yours. In your mind everything you did to yourself was replaced with him, and it was enough to get you started.

Biting back on a moan, you reply, "yeah...I want you to—I want you to do all the vile stuff to me."

You hear certain shuffling in the background alongside a long pause and then, your ears catch up on his soft little grunts. Nothing prepared your imagination for what you were thinking; him in his bed or just in his gaming chair, with his cock out, stroking himself at the thought of you.

"Your—your wish is my command," he growls, his deep voice resonating in your ear, "would love to finger your tight little cunt, drawing out these pretty moans from your mouth..."

You slide one finger down your slit, and eventually ease it in your hole; it brought discomfort at first, a little, but when you started moving it deep within you, you felt your walls clench slightly around it.

"Fuck...yes, I want you to spread—spread me open with your fingers."

He did not need to know that you were fingering yourself, your voiceless grunts and whispers were enough for him to imagine it. Picturing you plunge your fingers into your cunt, he increases the pace of his hand stroking his cock; though, he keeps himself steady. He couldn't really help himself and gradually increases the rhythm of his movements.

"Add another finger, baby." he mumbles, closing his eyes and leaning back against his chair.

You oblige, adding another finger in your hole.

"How does it feel?"

"Good—feels good, Yunho." You mewl his name, scissoring your fingers inside of you.

"You're doing great, princess. Now, curl your fingers..." he manages to squeak out in a whisper, pumping his cock with busy motions.

His chest rises and falls rhythmically to your moans, and you do as he says; curling your fingers inside you, you feel a certain warmth lingering in your stomach. You were getting close to your climax, without even having to anything more—the knot strikes a jolt of tightness in the pit of your stomach, and you moan out loud. Really loud.

"I want you to feel me, Yunho." you breathe out, aroused. "I want to feel you too—feel your cock sliding in and out of me—fucking me good with it."

"Oh baby," he goes silent for a second, focused on stroking himself, "I'll fuck you good—I'll fuck you till you're begging for me to stop..."

"Ah fuck," you arch your back off the mattress, trying to chase your high.

Your fingers plunge in and out, increasing tension in your stomach and gut; your tightness was gradually easing up, and so you decide to insert another finger in. The stretch stung, however, pleasurable, making you whimper his name out loud.

"Yunho...!"

"Yes, baby, I know." he winces in diversion. "Hold on a little longer, I'm close—I'm close too."

He breathes out, increasing the pace of his hand; his cock slick with his precum and it spreads along the shaft as he continues to pump himself. You could hear the strain in his voice, indicating you, he indeed was close to his own climax; you were too, knowing your fingers were hitting your sweet spot every time they thrusted in you. Keeping your phone on loudspeaker, you set it on the nightstand and use your other hand to rub your clit. You increase the pace of your fingers, flesh squelching, your juices lightly lapping against your fingers—the knot tightens delicately in your stomach as your tempo remains constant.

Yunho bucks his hips into hands, composing himself as he thrusts his cock into his hand, thinking about your tight cunt. He has a colourful mind too, picturing himself rocking his hips so that his cock hits all of your deepest parts. His lungs convulse, fighting the urge to moan but it breaks out of his lips anyway. He moans your name, shaking and struggling to hold his phone next to his ear—he does the same as you, sets his phone aside while keeping it on speaker.

"Such a dirty little slut, fingering herself to the thought of my cock thrusting into her," his voice gives you a push, fuels your soul with the fire it lacked. In retrospect, he needed something too, to tip him off his edge as he fucked his hand. "Fuck...needs my cock to make her happy..."

"Yes, please," you cry, tears rolling down the side of your face as your fingers do their work.

Your high was approaching you, so close, almost there. The limit to hold it in was past the point, he could say something and you would be riding down your orgasm—you needed him, his voice, his words. On the other hand, Yunho's patience was running thin, he wanted to finish it off—feeling the warmth of his hand pushing him to his edge, he smirks to himself and throws his head back.

"Are you close, princess? Cause I am..." he grunts.

You nod your head, pursing your lips together to make a gentle sound of humming. You didn't realise it yet, but you were bucking your hips to your fingers, letting them curl and slip in deep inside you; grinding your hips against your fingers, you let out a satisfied groan—the tightness in the pit of your stomach comes undone. Rummaging your hand to hold the headboard behind you, you brace yourself as your high washes over you with a vehement intensity. You let our shaky breaths, well beyond being breathless, as your fingers slowly make their way out of your heat. Your chest rises and falls, tremors spread under your skin with your juices dripping down your inner thighs.

"Fuck, princess..."

His groan is a little static, coming from your phone as it leaves your imagination to run wild. You picture him slumped in his chair with his load spurting out to stain his lower abdomen and clothes. In reality, Yunho breathes through his mouth, letting it fall agape when his high comes crashing down onto him. He had never felt such rush of satisfaction by only indulging himself with you on call; he had never felt himself cumming so hard for anyone with any real action, but here he was, panting and shaking, stroking off his climax as he grimaced at his hand full of his cum.

There's a long moment of silence between you two, and in that silence, the post-orgasm clarity sinks deep within you. The thought of you being so indecent with a man you met in the morning, not even knowing him for more than a day, brought some coherence to your mind. Though, the best is to let it go and keep it in your bounds of inadvertent thrills of late night.

Your body feels languid, and tired; wondering the same for him.

"That was..."

"It happened in the moment," Yunho breathlessly pronounces, "we're just two strangers who have nothing to do with each other, right?"

"Well..."

You sit straighter in your bed, staring at your phone as you bite your lip; you were waiting for him to speak.

"Well what?" he mumbles, a sly smile stretching his lips.

"I thought...never mind. I'm way over in my head." You shrug it off, pulling the sheets over your body as the embarrassment drowned you out. "It's fine, we'll pretend this never happened."

"What? Are you crazy?" his voice is much clear now, with the obvious tone of bewilderment. "Gosh, Angel. You don't know how hard I came for you. I can't pretend this never happened; instead, I wouldn't mind giving us..."

He trails, dragging his words in a whisper with hopes of you completing him. "...giving us a try, like just keeping our relationship exclusive to sex?"

"If you're down for it." he mumbles, "I don't want to do anything that you're uncomfortable with."

"I'll think about it."

You smiled to yourself, thinking about that possibility. When the sun rose to a new day, you found yourself pondering. Not exactly in the 'deep venture' of it, but you just kept your mind busy with Yunho's proposal and thought of the consequences if you were to ever agree to it. Friends with benefits with a soon-to-graduate hot senior? That sounds tempting, a lot, it also fuels your infatuation with him. But on the other hand, you didn't want to go down that road with him. There were second thoughts in your mind, of course there'd be—you maybe, sort of, liked this man, after all, he does give off the vibes that he'd be a great boyfriend. You didn't want to ruin that possibility with him.

The rest of your day goes as scheduled, you attend a few of your lectures in the morning. Currently, it's afternoon and you have last of your classes to attend. Amidst all the excitement and stress, your friend, Jongho texts you, asking you to get him your lab-coat for his practical class. You find him standing in front the chemistry department, smiling and engaged in a chatter with someone else. And upon noticing it from afar, the person who he was talking to was Yunho. It was such a contrast, both were happy-go-lucky kind of guys, but Jongho seemed more innocent than Yunho (after the night you had spent with him, it was hard to picture him being anything but innocent). You could make it out from his tall built, and silver-bluish hair styled in a mullet, regardless with his back facing you. Hesitation stricken, you somehow manage to make your way to him; because Jongho had already noticed you even before you turn around and run away.

"There she is!" Jongho glees, and Yunho turns around, meeting your eyes. "Thank you so much for bringing it, I really despise prof. Yuen when he gets all judgmental about 'forgetting' to bring a lab-coat to his practical class."

"Hey, no worries," you smile at him, handing him your lab-coat. "I have his practical class day after tomorrow, till then the coat is yours." You laugh it off, awkwardly glancing at Yunho.

Jongho notices the out-of-ordinary ogles you made at Yunho, chiming in, "oh right, Angel, this is Yunho. I live with him and six other guys. But that's not important and ummm.." he looks at Yunho, scratching the back of his neck, "she's Angel, my only friend in this university."

Yunho smiles warmly at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he does. "Oh so, it's her you can't stop chattering about?" he chuckles lightly, "and what do you mean 'your only friend' aren't we your friends too?"

Jongho rolls his eyes, "you guys are nothing but a pain in the ass. Just today, in the morning Wooyoung and San drank all the milk and kept empty containers back in the refrigerator. I had to crunch on cereals before heading out for my morning classes."

"So, are you tainting all others because of those two individuals?" Yunho retorts.

You purse your lips together, ineptly crossing your eyes between them; you were aware of Jongho's living condition, but you could have never expected Yunho to be one of his flatmates. It was true, Jongho lived with seven other guys from the university, some of them having a full time job, and at times he would complain about them to you. Though you never really focused too much on what he had to say, or even catch their names.

"Uhhh..." you trail, offering them a tight lipped smile.

"Angel, come on, back me up." Jongho grumbles.

"I can't say anything about your flatmates, Jongho." The chestnut-haired man rolls his eyes, and you continue, "but I've always listened to your rants."

"I bet you're a good listener, Angel." Yunho taunts you, "and an even better friend to him."

"She is," Jongho breaks out in a smile. "Hey, you should totally come over on Thursday. We've got a game night planned."

"Uh, Jongho, I don't think I'd want to play board games with eight guys." You mutter under your breath.

"Who said we play board games?" Yunho says, drawing his brows together. "Though, it'll be fun for a while, having a girl over."

"Yes, Angel. You should consider it. Just—just think about it okay?" the enthusiasm in Jongho's voice isn't hard to ignore. "Now, I've got a class, so I'll see you in a bit."

With that he disappears, leaving you and Yunho stranded alone with nothing to talk about or a lot to talk about.

"What a lovely coincidence," Yunho begins, smiling at you, "the girl he talked about was you all along; well, he painted a pretty picture of you in our heads."

"I see Jongho as anything but more than a friend." you pout, "and this game night, should I even consider coming?"

"Well, it depends on you, princess," he smirks, "it depends on whether or not you could keep your hands to yourself. Because I'll be there."

"Oh, don't put yourself on a high pedestal, mister." You roll your eyes, "I'll think about it."

"Don't you have a lot to think about already?" he steps closer to you, towering over you as he leans close to your ear, "I don't think I can go on without touching you for the entire time you'd be there, so really do think about it."

He straightens up and mumbles one last time before leaving you completely high and dry.

"And if you do come, I will really fuck you senseless."

Next Part ┃ M.list

[httpsdana]

Hey! Have you thought about writing for hector fort.

Him and his girlfriend are cuddeling and she starts tracing his tattoo. Just a cute moment with him enjoying the feeling. You could make them talk about their future together or something.

Feel free to ignore!

Tattoos~Hector Fort

*GIF isn't mine. credits to the owner*

I decided to write this hector fic then start with the series. I got a few ideas but I'm still not sure who it will be about. enjoy this <3

@hectorth wrote something similar before me go check it out too 🫶🏻🫶🏻

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

player/drivers I write for

Hector had a day off before going back to training, so he took this as a chance to sleep in while settling in the arms of his girlfriend. However, she had other plans. She was an early bird, waking up by 8 in the morning. If she tried to move, Hector would wake up, and that's the last thing she wanted to do.

She turned in Hector's arms, resting his head on her chest and an arm draped over her waist. Sitting there for a few moments she got bored quickly. If she tries to reach over to her phone Hector will wake up.

Subconsciously, her fingers started tracing the tattoo which she adored oh so much on Hector's arm. Her fingertips moving softly on the ink on his skin. The small gesture made Hector stir a bit in his sleep. She didn't stop though. Her fingertips kept dancing on his skin until he opened his eyes and looked up at her.

"mhm buenos dias amor" he mumbled, his voice deep from the slumber he woke up from

"good morning baby" she said back, pressing a small kiss in his curls.

"how long have you been awake, why didn't you wake me up?" he asked her, sitting up a bit.

"you needed this sleep I didn't wanna disturb" she ran one hand through his curls, the other one still on his tattoos

"don't be silly, wake me up next time" he said, resting his head back on her chest

"you know I'm gonna add a tattoo for you" he said. y/n smiled and looked down at hi

"will you?" she asked, failing to hide her huge smile

"of course, and when we have kids I'll add a tattoo for them too" he looked up at her with a smile

she slapped his head gently in a joking manner, trying to hide her blushed cheeks. He chuckled softly at her actions

"I see you already planned our future have you?" she asked with sarcasm, a smile still on her face

'of course, I even planned the names of our kids, and the wedding and our house. don't worry everything is planned out" he said

y/n laughed and shook her head at him.

"tell me your plans" she urged him to speak

"well first of all if we have a girl she'll be called Lucia Alexia Fort. how does that sound?" he looked up, an excited smile on his face. Her heart melted and the joy and excitement on his face. She leaned down and pecked his lips a few times

"I like it, Lucia is such a cute name, why Alexia though?" she asked

"well just because she's a girl doesn't mean she's not gonna be playing football. Alexia just a motivation for her to be like Alexia Putellas" he said. y/n pouted at his explanation, realizing how lucky she got with her boyfriend

"aww you're so cute...I assume the boy's middle name will be Lionel right?" she asked, Hector sat up immediately and nodded his head

"yes! I'm not sure about the first name but Lionel is definitely there" he said, a wide smile spread on his face

y/n sat there, admiring how passionately Hector spoke about their future together. He kept talking about their wedding and house, while she admired every single feature in his face

"i love you" she interrupted him, making him raise his eyebrows, blood rushing into his cheeks. He dropped down on her chest, hiding his red face from her. She giggled softly, kissing the top of his head

"i love you too" he mumbled into her chest, refusing to look up at her

[loverleah]

in between | leah williamson

- “(s)he laughs at her eyes, at her smile, the glasses on her face.”

in which: you rewatch all your favourite moments with leah.

warnings: hella fluff, swear words

-

you were a footballer. an outstanding one, to say the least. but on the side you took up vlogging, where you would film and post your favourite bits and pieces of your life.

leah was a frequent participant in your videos, which had over a hundred thousand views on average. your supporters seemed to love your content when she was included, so what once was your vlogging channel soon turned into a “leah williamson fan page” according to the blonde herself.

on one particularly boring thursday, you had decided to rewatch all of your vlogs (the ones leah were in). you had stayed home from training due to “coming down with a sickness”while leah left to see her physio. with nobody to speak to and nothing to do, this was the only way you could entertain yourself.

VLOG 16 | gingerbread disaster ft. leah

“leah! stop it!” you scolded, slapping the taller girls fingers away as she previously attempted to tickle at your stomach.

“what? you won’t let me love you ‘cause you’re bloody camera is on?” she said sarcastically, hand on her heart. “i’m hurt, baby. truly.”

you turned away from her and rolled your eyes at the camera, mumbling a few incoherent words to yourself. you were both dressed in christmas sweaters and had santa hats on, you two were building gingerbread houses for the video.

“seriously lee, i’m halfway through mine and you haven’t even started building yours!” you exclaimed after looking over leah’s shoulder only to see she had been eating the chocolate you had bought.

“chocolate is supposed to be eaten!”

VLOG 23 | lazy saturdays

“hey everyone. this is for those of you who think leah is all tough and scary and that she wears the pants in the relationship.” you whisper out to the camera, shifting your arm so it is pointed directly at leah.

the defender had her hair sticking out in all different places, her mouth open and full body laying on top of yours. it was early on a saturday morning, you both decided on a relaxed day at home the night before considering you two had nothing on.

“she does this all the time, by the way. always sleeping. not as energetic and serious anymore, ey?” you giggle to yourself, squishing leah’s cheeks.

this action seemed to wake the girl up, her eyes widened at the sight of your camera right in her face.

“fuck fuck! no, get rid! get rid of it!” she wails, hurriedly stumbling to her feet as she chased you out of your shared bedroom.

“that’s going on all my social media, lee!”

VLOG 25 | day with the arsenal

“okay, so this is how you hold it.” you explain to kyra, your best friend and national teammate, “make sure the camera is straight and facing you, so they can see clearly.”

“uh, okay.” the younger girl nods, fumbling with the camera in her hands.

“honestly ky, you’re hopeless!” leah teases, yelping as kyra reaches for her ponytail. “ah! help, y/n, help!”

you grab the camera from kyra’s hands, hysterically laughing while you film the two girls wrestle as beth and vic chant “fight, fight, fight!”

“poor alessia looks like she’s going to shit herself,” viv laughs. you smile as you shift the camera to face alessia. the blonde stood behind lotte, grimacing as leah and kyra continued to yell and shove each other.

“let go of me you rodent!”

“you first, willy bum!”

a series of “ooo’s” and “oh no’s” were heard as kim entered the locker room.

“what is going on?” she yells, eyebrows furrowed as the group fell silent. you hid your camera underneath cloe’s elbow as katie and caitlin made room for kim to walk through.

the older captain grabs both the girls on the ground by their ears as they complain and point fingers at each other.

“kyra tore my top!”

“you bit my finger!”

the rest of the arsenal girls stifle their laughs as both kyra and leah were dragged by their ears out of the locker room.

“time out for the rest of break!”

VLOG 28 | special 200k QNA ft. leah’s horrid cooking

“-so that’s why i wear number 24 on the back of my shirt! i also wanted a two digit number and it kinda just stuck up until now-“

you were cut off by a loud shriek and a loud crash. you were situated in your room, where you had a bowl full of printed questions next to you which leah had handpicked from the poll you had put up earlier. she had told you she would be in the kitchen, where she never usually is, so you assumed she would wait there for you and not actually cook up a storm.

“fuck!” you swore, hurriedly grabbing your camera behind as you ran downstairs.

you swore you could have died laughing at the sight before you. leah was dressed in your apron, which was two sizes too small, considering your height difference. her hands were covered in ginormous oven mitts, and her hair was sticking up in all different places. the kitchen, if even possible, was in a worse state. there was flour everywhere, and egg shells in the sink. the oven was wide open, revealing two layers of cake and a whole lot of smoke.

“turn the smoke alarm off, lee!” you giggled, slapping her ass while she reached up and turned it off.

“fuck, this wasn’t supposed to happen- are you honestly filming this right now?” the blonde exclaimes, making a move to grab your camera.

“oi! this new camera was expensive i will have you know!”

“oh, trust me i do, considering i payed for it!”

you roll your eyes and placed the camera down, grabbing a tea towel and swatting the remaining smoke out the open window.

“well, this was a nice surprise. thank you for trying, babe.” you smile, grabbing leah’s now bare hands in your own. the older girl leaned down and pecked your lips, brushing your hair out of your face.

“yeah, yeah,” leah’s smirk fell as she faced the camera, “shit, i forgot you were filming! don’t put that in!”

“oh put a rest to it, will you? let’s get that chocolate cake out of the oven before it turns a completely burnt black!”

“…that cake was supposed to be vanilla?”

-

you smiled as you added the remaining videos which included leah to a folder on your computer. little did the blonde know, you were going to play these at your wedding in three weeks.

-

A.N (AUTHORS NOTE)

this is my first ever fic, so please be nice 😭😭

i absolutely love leah fics and have literally read all of them so i decided to make some of my own content!!! requests are open!!!!

[peavhyshy]

𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗬𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡. (oneshot)

Pairing: Prince!Rafe Cameron x Princess!Reader

Summary: Royal/Arranged Marriage AU - in which you find yourself thrust into an arranged marriage with a handsome yet unpredictable prince.

Warnings: mild language, explicit language, period typical language, dubious consent, smut, angst, fluff, suggestive/sexual language, power dynamics/manipulation, classism, misogynistic behavior, possessive behavior, traditional gender roles/expectations around marriage, character development, rough sex, oral sex, fingering, dominance and submission, hair-pulling, marking/biting, and unprotected vaginal sex

Words: 10,863

a/n: this has been in the works for a while, it's kind of long but I hope you enjoy and I also want to make blurbs for this on the side because I didn't want to make this into a series with parts because that too much work and I'm lazy.

Outer Banks Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Honeymoon (song it's based off by lana del rey)

The sunlight filtered through the windows of the lavish bridal room, its gauzy white curtains blowing softly in the afternoon sea breeze. You stood before the three-way mirror, your dress and hair only half done as your friends flitted around you, pinning and primping. Your eyes looked anxious despite your gentle smile. 

"I don't know if I can do this, girls," You fretted, brow furrowed. "Rafe seems so...intense. And our families barely know each other! What if he doesn't like me?" 

From behind you, Sarah chuckled as she twisted your long curls into an elegant updo. "Trust me, my brother likes what he sees well enough. He may be a cocky jerk sometimes but he could do way worse." 

Kiara added dryly from the window seat, "Yeah, like get stuck with somebody boring instead of a kind heart like you. Try to relax. Just be your sweet self and I'm sure you'll win him over."

You sighed. "I'll try. It's just all so much pressure, you know? An entire life and future riding on a few short hours." You turned to peer at your reflection, barely recognizing the woman in the gown. "Do you think I look okay? Not too plain?"

Your friends assured you with smiles. It was almost time. For better or worse, Rafe Cameron would soon be your destiny. You steeled your nerves and prayed this royal match may prove to be no prison, but a partnership made in heaven.

You held your breath as your mother swept into the room, eyes scanning your gowned figure in the mirror with a practiced critical eye. 

"Hmm. The dress is adequate I suppose, even if a touch too modest," Lady Smith observed. Her gaze shifted to your face, tightening slightly. "And do try to look a bit happier, darling. A man does not want a sullen bride, no matter her dowry. Remember - you are representing our entire family today. Do strive to be pleasant."

You swallowed back a sigh. "Yes, Mother. I will do my best to charm Prince Rafe and make us all proud."

Your friends' faces radiated empathy. Even they knew how rigorous Lady Smith's standards could be. But then the older woman surprised you all with the barest hint of a smile. 

"Have faith, my dear. A marriage is what you and your husband choose to make of it. Now, come - it is nearly time. Chin up and smile as if you've won the lottery. Which, in a way, you have."  

With that, she whisked from the room, leaving you to draw a steadying breath. Your friends gave encouraging smiles and squeezed your hands. This was it - for better or worse, your future began now.

The ceremonial hall was awash with sparkling lights and fragrant flowers as dusk fell. Rafe stood tall by the altar, tugging irritably at his stiff collar. His gaze roamed restlessly over the assembled guests while Rose droned on beside him about proper etiquette. 

"And remember to look her in the eyes when you say your vows," Rose nattered. "The audience will be hanging on your every word."

Rafe scoffed under his breath. As if he gave a damn about any of these stuffy traditions. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ward approaching, lips pursed in that familiar disapproving frown. 

"Try to pay attention, son," Ward rumbled, handing him a small scroll. "These are the terms your betrothed's father expects you to agree to. Mind you, hold up your end of the bargain." 

Rafe scanned the endless stipulations with a curl of his lip. As if he was some prize mare to be sold to the highest bidder. But he knew better than to argue. 

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, tucking away the scroll. His gaze fell on Wheezie's small form near the front, watching him with wide eyes. At least one Cameron was on his side, the innocent little dove that she was. 

The trumpets sounded then, signaling the bride's arrival. Showtime. Straightening his uniform jacket, Rafe pasted on his most rakish grin and steeled himself to meet his political match. 

His gaze drifted to the double doors at the end of the hall, anticipation and annoyance battling within him. No doubt some meek little flower they'd chosen to shackle him to for the sake of power and status. Still, a small part of him was curious to lay eyes on this Y/N Smith his advisors claimed would make such a perfect royal match.

When the doors swept open, Rafe straightened and schooled his features into a haughty mask of indifference. But the sight that met his gaze gave him pause. There, being escorted down the aisle on your father's arm, was a vision in ivory silk and lace. His brows lifted in surprise at the beauty gliding toward him with eyes demurely downcast. This was his intended bride?

The closer you came, the faster Rafe's pulse raced. Your cheeks were flushed, lips painted pink. Your curls spilled over your shoulders, begging to be toyed with. His gaze roamed lower, taking in the enticing curves and dips of your figure through your gown. A slow smirk spread over his face. Perhaps this evening would prove more enjoyable than anticipated. By the time you lifted your gaze to meet his at the altar, Rafe's ice blue eyes gleamed with heat and the thrill of the hunt. No meek flower here - only a rare, exotic bloom ready to be plucked. And if your quick intake of breath was any indication, the feeling just might be mutual. Excellent. 

Rafe's smirk widened at your reaction, noting the pretty blush that rose to your cheeks. His gaze swept over you appreciatively as you took your place beside him, leaning close to murmur in a low, husky tone for your ears alone. "Well now, aren't you a tempting morsel? I do believe I'll enjoy unwrapping my gift later this evening, Mrs. Cameron." His eyes flashed suggestively at the way your breath caught, enjoying how flustered you seemed by his proximity and blunt words. Perhaps the little dove wasn't quite so meek after all. All the better.

Rafe barely paid attention as the pompous old minister droned on, too focused on watching emotions flit across your expressive features. Annoyance, uncertainty, even a spark of temper in those fathomless eyes. His new bride was no giggling debutante, that much was clear. When the time came to recite your vows, his were short and to the point. But the words he chose made your gaze snap to his in surprise.

"To have and to hold, for better and worse, as long as we both shall live. I vow to worship you with my body, protect you with my sword, and share with you all the spoils of my conquests. You are mine, now and always." His thumb brushed your wrist in a possessive caress as he slid the ring onto your finger. "With this ring, I pledge to you my heart, and swear you shall never want for passion."

Rafe couldn't resist adding in a husky undertone as the minister pronounced them man and wife, "Pucker up, princess. Time for the fun part." His arm slid around your waist and he dipped you dramatically, sealing your vows with a searing kiss as your audience erupted into raucous cheers.

Your eyes went wide as Rafe's arm wrapped around your waist, and before you could protest his lips descended onto yours in a scorching kiss. Your first instinct was to squirm away, unused to such public displays of affection - but his strong arms held you in place, and after a moment you found yourself melting into the kiss. By the time Rafe lifted his head, Your cheeks were flaming and you were breathless.

Rafe's smug chuckle brought you back to yourself. "Cat got your tongue, wife?" He teased, eyes gleaming. You huffed, straightened and attempted to smooth your disheveled hair and gown.

"Must you always be so…so…" You struggled for the right word, and Rafe quirked a brow.

"Charming? Irresistible? I can't help my natural talents, love."

You rolled your eyes. "I was going to say incorrigible."

Rafe laughed, the sound rich and warm. "Ah, there's that spark I've been waiting to see. Don't worry, I'll have you swooning in my arms soon enough."

"You're certainly confident in yourself, aren't you?" You remarked dryly. Rafe's grin only widened.

"With good reason. But come now wife, no need to be shy." He leaned close, breath fanning your ear. "The bedding ceremony awaits us, unless you'd care to give our guests a show right here?"

You gasped, shoving at his chest though your heart raced at his words. "You're despicable!"

Rafe caught your hand, bringing it to his lips. "All part of my charm, princess. Now, shall we?" He offered his arm, eyes dancing with mirth at your discomfort.

You huffed, pulling your hand away. "Must you be so arrogant and crass? There are proper ways to speak to a lady, as I'm sure you know."

Rafe's grin only widened at your annoyance. "Proper is boring. I prefer to speak my mind, and right now it's full of how ravishing you look in that gown. Can you blame a man for being eager to peel it off?"

Your cheeks flamed at his bold words. "You forget yourself, Your Highness. We've only just met."

Rafe leaned close, breath hot on your ear. "We're man and wife now, pet. No need to stand in the ceremony." His gaze swept over your figure appreciatively. "I always get what I want, and right now that's you in my bed. But we'll take things slow…at first."

You bristled at his arrogance, grasping for a retort, but found yourself speechless. Your heart raced with a mix of irritation, anticipation and uncertainty. You knew your duty here today, had steeled yourself for a political match and indifferent spouse. But Rafe Cameron seemed determined to sweep you off your feet, whether you willed it or not.

Rafe chuckled at your loss for words, offering his arm. "Come, the revelry awaits us. And after…" His eyes gleamed suggestively, "The real fun begins."

You swallowed hard, slipping your arm through his. Your mother was right, this marriage was what you chose to make of it. But something told you life with this wickedly charming scoundrel of a prince would be anything but boring. For better or worse, your destiny was sealed - and as Rafe led you into the cheering crowd, you couldn't deny a thrill of excitement amid your doubts. Your story was only just beginning.

Rafe guided you into the lavish ballroom, nodding at the trumpeters to announce your arrival. As the first strains of a lively waltz filled the air, he turned to you with a roguish grin and swept you into his arms.

"Time for our first dance as husband and wife, princess. Try not to swoon, I know I'm irresistible." Rafe's eyes gleamed with mirth at your huff of annoyance, though you had little choice but to follow as he led you in the steps of the dance. His hand rested scandalously low on your back, holding you close as you spun and dipped across the floor.

By the time the music ended, You was flushed and breathless in his arms. Rafe smirked, enjoying your flustered state, but before he could tease you further a throat cleared behind them.

"If you don't mind, I'll take over from here."

They turned to find your father, Lord Smith, eyeing Rafe sternly. Rafe gave a curt nod, handing you off to the grim-faced man.

"Of course, father-in-law. I was merely warming her up for you." Rafe's sly undertone earned him a reproachful glare from you before you allowed your father to lead you in the next dance.

Rafe stood back, crossing his arms over his chest, when Rose appeared at his side. "Must you provoke her so? She is your wife now, try to be kind."

Rafe scoffed. "She knows my nature well enough. Life would be dreadfully boring without challenges." His gaze drifted back to you, a smile tugging at his lips when you dared a glance in his direction. Rose sighed, patting his arm.

"Be gentle to her.” Rafe's gaze landed on Ward approaching, lips pursed in disapproval as usual. Before his father could lecture him, Rafe turned to your mother with an exaggerated bow.

"Lady Smith, your daughter is a vision. I trust she'll make a fine princess." His charming smile didn't reach his eyes.

Lady Smith's gaze was coolly assessing. "Indeed. Do try to behave yourself, Your Highness. My girl is gentle bred and undeserving of your…roguish tendencies."

Rafe's smile turned wolfish. "Not to worry, I'll be on my best behavior. In public, at least." His suggestive undertone made Lady Smith's eyes narrow.

"Mother, must you provoke him so?" You sighed as you rejoined them. Your gaze shifted between Rafe and your mother anxiously.

Rafe chuckled, sliding an arm around your waist. "No need to fret, princess. I was merely exchanging pleasantries with your charming mother."

Ward's voice rumbled behind Rafe. "If you're quite finished, the receiving line awaits you both."

Rafe suppressed an eye roll, turning to greet his younger sisters. Sarah's gaze was assessing, while little Wheezie beamed up at the newlyweds.

"You look so pretty, Y/N!" Wheezie gushed. "I hope you'll still come visit me, now that you're a princess."

You smiled, bending to embrace the girl. "Of course, whenever I can. And you must come see me too."

Rafe watched the exchange with a mix of fondness and annoyance. His littlest sister had always been too softhearted. But seeing your sweet nature with Wheezie gave him hope this match may not prove entirely intolerable.

Ward cleared his throat, Rafe bristled at his father's impatience, but couldn't fault Wheezie's enthusiasm. His littlest sister had always been too softhearted for her own good. Still, seeing your sweet smile as you embraced Wheezie gave Rafe a flicker of hope this match may not prove entirely intolerable. If you could win over even his most skeptical family members, you just might stand a chance.

Rafe turned to his father with a mocking bow. "As you wish, Your Majesty. Mustn't keep the adoring masses waiting." His sarcastic tone earned an eye roll from Sarah, ever the voice of reason. Rose simply sighed, patting Rafe's arm as he passed.

"Behave," she murmured. Rafe just chuckled, offering his arm to you.

"Shall we, wife? Our public awaits." You glanced between your families anxiously before accepting his arm. Rafe patted your hand, pitching his voice low. "No need to fret, pet. I don't bite…hard." His roguish wink brought a blush to your cheeks.

As you made your way to the receiving line, Rafe found his gaze drawn again and again to your expressive features. Your reactions were simply too amusing. While your guests and courtiers showered you with congratulations and well wishes, he watched emotions flit across your face - uncertainty, annoyance, even curiosity. His new bride was an open book, though your courteous smiles revealed none of the thoughts behind your fathomless eyes. Rafe was determined to unlock all your mysteries, one by tantalizing one.

Rafe allowed you to guide him to your seats at the head table, though his gaze strayed often to his friends at a nearby table. Topper and Kelce were regaling each other with tales of previous sailing adventures, no doubt in anticipation of the race Rafe had every intention of winning. His competitive nature chafed at being stuck here making polite conversation when he could be out on the open water.

You seemed to sense his restlessness, offering a gentle smile as you tucked a napkin into Wheezie's lap. "There now, all tidy. I do hope you'll save room for dessert, little dove."

Wheezie beamed up at you, her new sister-in-law. "I will! Cook always makes the best cakes. Are you excited for your wedding trip?"

Your smile turned rueful. "I suppose so. Traveling somewhere new is always an adventure." your gaze flitted uncertainly to Rafe.

Rafe snorted. "Adventure is what I live for, pet." His gaze swept over you boldly. "Though I daresay our wedding night will prove enough of an adventure."

Your cheeks flamed at his innuendo, gaze darting to Sarah in appeal. Sarah rolled her eyes at her brother's antics. "Honestly Rafe, must you be so crude?"

Rafe just chuckled, leaning back in his seat as servants began delivering the lavish courses of their meal. His attention drifted often to his friends, ignoring the disapproving glares of their parents discussing terms of the marriage arrangement. There will be time enough for politics and responsibility tomorrow. Tonight was meant for revelry and chasing whatever pleasures caught his fancy. And at the moment, his new bride was proving an intriguing diversion.

His gaze slid back to you, watching as you laughed with Sarah and Wheezie. Rafe picked at the lavish dishes set before him, paying little mind to the chatter around him. His gaze kept straying to you, noting how animated you seemed speaking with Sarah and Wheezie. At least his sisters appeared taken with his new bride, if the way they hung on your every word and laughed at your silliest comments were any indication. Their obvious delight gave Rafe hope this match may prove more tolerable than anticipated.

Still, his restless nature chafed at the forced pleasantries and pomp of this grand occasion. He longed to be out sailing with his crew, chasing the thrill of adventure on the open sea. As if sensing his wayward thoughts, Kelce leaned around Topper with a sly grin.

"When's the race, man? This fancy shindig is dreadfully dull."

Rafe smirked. "Patience, Kelce. We set sail at first light, and not a moment sooner. Wouldn't do to abandon my own wedding feast, as tempting as it may be."

Topper chuckled. "Think of the gossip that would stir. The new princess, jilted on her wedding night by a scoundrel of a husband!"

Rafe snorted. "As if I'd miss unwrapping that particular gift." His gaze slid suggestively over your figure, lingering on the curve of your neck and the stray curls that had escaped your elegant updo. Anticipation thrummed in his veins at the thought of finally claiming his passionate new bride.

Kelce followed Rafe's gaze with a grin. "Can't say I blame you, mate. Seems you've landed quite the prize, for a political match."

Rafe's smile turned wolfish. "Aye, and she'll make a fine figurehead aboard my ship."

Topper laughed and Rafe's attention kept straying to you, watching as you chatted and laughed with his sisters. Your sweet smile and gentle manner seemed to put even the most hesitant guests at ease. Though he'd never admit it aloud, Rafe found himself grudgingly impressed by your poise and social graces. You were clearly in your element, greeting courtiers and chatting with servants alike as if you hadn't a care in the world.

A nudge at his elbow drew Rafe's gaze to Kelce, who had abandoned all pretense of propriety and was lounging in his seat with a goblet of wine in hand. "So when's the real party start, eh mate?" Kelce grinned with a suggestive waggle of his brows. "Looks like you landed a lively one. Bet she's a wildcat behind closed doors."

Rafe snorted, taking a swig of his own wine. "Wouldn't you like to know. A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."

"Since when are you a gentleman?" Topper scoffed from Kelce's other side. Rafe shot him an obscene gesture, earning chuckles from his uncouth friends.

"Perhaps we'll have to arrange a private showing for you two scoundrels. I'm sure my bride would be delighted to entertain." Rafe's sarcastic remark was rewarded by Kelce's bark of laughter.

"Now that's an offer I might take you up on!" Kelce's eyes gleamed with mischief as they drifted to you. Rafe's gaze narrowed, a spark of annoyance flaring to life.

"In your dreams, mate. This one's all mine." Rafe's arm shot out to grasp Kelce's shoulder in a bruising grip, smile turning dangerous.

'So, Rafe what's your plans with my lovely Y/N?'' Your father asks.

Rafe's gaze snapped to Lord Smith, who was eyeing him expectantly across the table. He suppressed a scowl at the interruption, forcing his grip on Kelce's shoulder to relax as he leaned back in his seat.

"I plan to show the princess the time of her life, of course," Rafe replied with a roguish smirk. "Starting with a grand tour of my kingdom. She shall want for nothing as my wife."

Lord Smith's eyes narrowed slightly. "See that she doesn't. My daughter is gentle bred, and I'll not have her spirit broken by some scoundrel of a husband."

Rafe bristled at the insult but kept his tone light. "Not to worry, father-in-law. Your daughter is in capable hands." His gaze slid suggestively to you, watching in amusement as you seemed to sense the scrutiny and glanced between them uncertainty.

Lord Smith snorted. "Capable of chasing anything in skirts, so I hear. I warn you now, if any harm comes to my daughter through your…philandering ways…"

"You have my word as a gentleman," Rafe cut in through gritted teeth. "Y/N shall remain untouched by scandal. My duty is to her and her alone now."

Lord Smith seemed unconvinced, but gave a curt nod. "See that you remember that. She is still young, and deserves a chance at happiness." His stern gaze swept over Rafe in assessment. "Do not make me regret this match."

Rafe shrugged off the threat, patience already wearing thin. "If there's nothing else, I believe I shall steal my bride away for a dance." He stood abruptly, pushing back from the table to stride around its length and offered you his arm with an exaggerated bow.

"May I have this dance, princess?'' *Rafe turned back to Lord Smith with a mocking bow and dangerous smile. “Not to worry, father-in-law. I always take excellent care of my possessions.” His suggestive undertone brought a scowl to the older man’s face.

Before Lord Smith could retort, Rafe grasped your hand and tugged you from your seat. “Come, wife. I’ve been patient long enough.”

You glanced uncertainly between Rafe and your father. “But, the toasts…”

“Can wait.” Rafe’s grip on your wrist tightened, brooking no argument. Your gaze narrowed at his peremptory tone but you allowed him to lead you onto the dance floor.

Rafe smirked at your obvious annoyance, spinning you into a lively waltz. “You’ll have to get used to obeying my commands, pet. I’m not a man who takes no for an answer.”

You huffed, attempting to pull away, but Rafe’s arm around your waist held you in place. “Unhand me, you arrogant beast!”

Rafe chuckled at your fruitless struggles, leaning close to purr in your ear. “Now is that any way to speak to your husband, wife?” His breath fanned hot on your neck, and Rafe felt a thrill of satisfaction when your breath caught. “Best get used to my beastly ways, pet. The night is young, and I’ve only just begun to claim what’s mine…”

You gasped at his audacious words, cheeks flaming. “You forget yourself, Prince Rafe!” Your protests only made Rafe’s wicked grin widen.

“Not at all, princess.” His eyes gleamed with heat and the thrill of the chase. “I know exactly who I am, and what I want.”

As the final courses of the lavish meal were cleared away, Rafe turned to you with a roguish grin. "Well wife, time for your tour of our kingdom. I have a surprise for you." He signaled to a nearby servant, who approached with a bow. "Take the princess for a turn about the grounds and gardens. Show her all our kingdom has to offer."

The servant nodded. "As you wish, Your Highness." His gaze slid to you with a familiar smile. "Your Highness."

Your eyes went wide with recognition. "JJ? Is that really you?" You grasped the servant's hands eagerly. "Oh, it's wonderful to see you! I had no idea you were working here."

Rafe lifted a brow, not having anticipated this happy reunion. Evidently his bride and this JJ Maybank were already acquainted. "You two know each other?"

You smiled. "We grew up together, before JJ's family moved into the city." Your gaze shifted between Rafe and the servant anxiously. "I do hope it's alright for us to catch up…"

Rafe waved a hand dismissively. "By all means. You're free to go where you like, I have other matters to attend to at the moment." His gaze slid pointedly to where Kelce and Topper were already deep in their cups, toasting loudly to his good fortune. You followed his gaze, cheeks coloring slightly.

"Thank you, husband." Your courtesy seemed strained. Rafe simply inclined his head.

"Enjoy your stroll, princess. I'll come find you later this evening, there are more…private celebrations in store." His suggestive tone brought a blush to your cheeks as he strode off to join his friends.

As JJ led you through elaborate gardens and courtyards, your anxiousness gave way to delight. "Oh, it's so lovely here! All these flowers, and fountains…I can see why you enjoy working in the palace gardens."

JJ smiled, patting your hand. "Aye, it's peaceful work. I'm glad to see a friendly face, even under these circumstances." His gaze turned sympathetic. "How are you faring, Y/N? I was worried when I heard of this arrangement."

You sighed. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. Prince Rafe is…not at all what I imagined." your brows furrowed, uncertain how much you dared confide in your old friend.

JJ snorted. "No doubt. He’s got a reputation for being wild. But don't you worry, I'll keep an eye out and make sure he treats you well."

You smiled at his protectiveness. "Thank you, JJ, but I'm capable of handling my own husband. It may take some getting used to, but this match could secure a bright future for my family. I have to at least give it a chance." your gaze drifted back toward the distant palace, where even now Rafe was likely carousing with his friends.

JJ followed your gaze, brows pinching with concern. "Just…promise me you'll be careful. There’s a dangerous streak in him. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I appreciate your concern." You squeezed his arm. "But Rafe is my husband now, for better or worse. I have to make my own judgments, and hope this marriage becomes more than just political."

JJ sighed, realizing your mind was made up. "You always did see the good in people.”

You nodded and bid JJ farewell with a wave and a promise to visit him again soon in the gardens. As you made your way back toward the palace, a young maidservant approached and curtsied.

"Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but it's time to prepare you for the evening. If you'll follow me, please."

You nodded, allowing the girl to lead you to an elaborate set of chambers. Your eyes went wide taking in the lavish space, draped in silks and velvets of deep red and gold. At the center was an enormous canopied bed, and adjoining the main room were a dressing chamber and bathing room aglow with the light of a crackling fire.

The maidservant curtsied again. "The prince bid me draw you a bath and help you...prepare for the evening, Your Highness. Please, disrobe and I'll assist you."

You blinked at the girl, cheeks heating at the implication. You were no stranger to the wedding night obligations awaiting you, but to have it stated so boldly...

With shaking fingers you began removing the heavy layers of your wedding gown, aided by two more maidservants who appeared. In a matter of minutes you stood in just your thin shift, anxiously clutching the fabric as the servants poured steaming water into an ornate tub and added fragrant oils.

The lead maid turned to you with a gentle smile. "The water is ready, Your Highness. Do not be afraid, we are here to help you bathe and make yourself presentable for the prince's pleasure."

"You look beautiful, my lady," one maid assured her. "The prince will be most pleased."

You swallowed hard, allowing the servants to help you step out of your shift and sink into the hot, scented water. As they began bathing your hair and softly chattering about how beautiful you looked, how pleased the prince would be, your anxiety gave way to anticipation.

"There now, you look exquisite." The head maid gave an approving nod.

Your apprehension slowly melted into calm as the maidservants gently bathed your hair and skin. The warm, floral-scented water soothed your nerves, as did their soft reassurances. When they finished, you stepped from the ornate tub and allowed them to pat you dry with soft towels.

Smiling encouragingly, the maids led you into the adjoining dressing chamber. Lacy smallclothes and a gossamer nightdress were laid out atop the silken sheets. With deft fingers, the maids slid the delicate garments over your frame, then bid you to sit before the vanity while they brushed out your damp curls.

"Just a touch of color for your lips and cheeks, my lady," the head maid murmured, dabbing rouge onto your mouth. "There now, perfect. The prince will be beside himself when he sees how lovely you look."

You studied your reflection, almost unrecognizing yourself. But the muted excitement in your eyes was unmistakable. However brash he was, Rafe's obvious desire flattered your feminine pride. And despite your differences, you had to admit a spark of anticipation for what was to come.

With a last few primping touches, the maids curtsied and took their leave. Alone now, you sat perched on the edge of the bed to wait. Your heart pounded and you twisted the wedding rings on your finger. Whatever happened tonight, your life would be forever changed.

As Rafe strode into the lavish chambers prepared for your wedding night, his gaze immediately found You perched on the edge of the massive bed. The sight of you in the sheer nightdress, hair spilling over your shoulders, sent a bolt of desire through him. His hungry gaze roamed over you, taking in the rapid rise and fall of your chest, your knuckled grip on the bed sheets. Smirking, he shrugged out of his formal jacket and began stalking toward you.

"Well now, what a tempting little morsel we have here," he purred, bracing his hands on either side of you and caging you in. "You look good enough to devour, princess."

He noted how your breath caught as he traced a finger along your collarbone. "What's the matter, love?" Rafe chuckled darkly at your wide-eyed look. "Not to worry, I'll have you singing for me soon enough…"

With that promise, his mouth descended on yours in a ruthless kiss. His large hands grasped your waist, pulling you firmly against him. Breaking the kiss, he murmured hotly in your ear, "I've been waiting all night for this. To finally make you mine…"

Rafe's hands slid slowly up your sides, his gaze never leaving your wide eyes. With a sinful smirk he inched the nightdress higher, exposing more of your thighs. The tips of his calloused fingers grazed your  bare hip, relishing how you shuddered at the intimate caress.

"So soft…Have you any idea how long I've waited to get my hands on this sweet body?" Rafe's husky voice dripped with lust. 

With tantalizing slowness, he urged you back onto the plush mattress. The silk sheets enveloped your  bare skin as Rafe's solid frame covered yours. His mouth found the frantic pulse at your throat, nipping and sucking a mark into the tender flesh. 

Rafe's strong hands glided up to cup your breasts through the thin nightdress, thumbs teasing your nipples into stiff peaks. The sensation tore a gasp from your lips, only encouraging him further. Grinning wolfishly, Rafe ground his pelvis down, letting you feel the rigid length of his cock straining against his trousers.

"Feel what you do to me, sweetheart…You're mine now, to take whenever and however I please." His hungry gaze devoured you, eyes burning with lust and primal need. "Say it," he demanded. "Tell me you're mine…" 

A shudder tore through your frame at the feel of Rafe's hardness grinding against your thigh. Your wide eyes flickered between desire and apprehension as his hands slid higher, rucking up the diaphanous nightdress to bare more of your skin.

"So perfect…and all mine," Rafe rasped, ducking his head to capture one nipple between his teeth. You gasped at the exquisite sting, every nerve in your body hyper aware of his Rough palms gliding over your skin. As his mouth blazed a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your quivering stomach, your nails bit into his shoulders.

"Rafe, I—" Your breathy protest was cut off with a squeak as his fingers hooked into your lacy smallclothes, tearing them off in one smooth motion.

"Shh…just feel, princess." Rafe's smirk was pure sin, eyes blazing cobalt as he nudged your thighs apart. The first stroke of his tongue against your pussy tore a strangled cry from your lips. Without mercy, be he devoured you, growling his satisfaction as your hips rocked unbidden against the delicious onslaught.

"Let me hear how much you want this." Rafe's rasping words vibrated against your aching core. Your head thrashed wildly on the pillows, coherent thought lost in a haze of overwhelming sensation. Soon you were re keening and trembling on the brink, utterly at his mercy.

The look of utter surrender in your eyes stoked the fire in Rafe's blood. His tongue lashed your stiff clit as you trembled, thighs clenching around his shoulders. So close now, teetering on the edge.

Rafe slid two thick fingers into your slick folds, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot. You wailed, arching violently as your orgasm crashed over you. Rafe groaned as your pussy walls clenched and spasmed around his pumping fingers, milking them greedily.

Grinning wolfishly, Rafe rose up over you. His heated gaze raked over your flushed, perspiring body as you came down from the high of ecstasy. "That's just a preview, darling," he rasped, fingers swiftly unlacing his trousers to free his straining cock. "Now for the main event…"

With a groan, Rafe buried himself balls-deep in one swift stroke. So tight, so wet and hot for him. He gave you no time to adjust, setting a brutal pace right from the start. Your legs locked around his pistoning hips instinctively. Your broken cries sent a vicious thrill through him.

Rafe fisted his hand in your damp curls, yanking to expose the delicate curve of your throat. His teeth sank into the tender flesh, marking what was his. "Tell me you belong to me now. Say it."

When you only whimpered and clawed at his sweat-slick back, Rafe snarled. His arms caged you in, hips snapping harder. "Say it!"

You yelp and wince when he pulls your hair whimpering and burying your face in the crook of his neck still shaking from the force and intensity of your soft lips part to whimper out.

"I’m yours, only yours Rafe…" just barely above a whisper

Your hands grip his shoulders for support, your body limps under his as you pant  softly raising your hips to meet his powerful thrusts.

Rafe gentled his hold in your hair, fingers massaging your scalp in reward. You were learning. His other hand slid under your hips, angling them up to take him deeper on each brutal thrust. Your breathy pants and cries were music to his ears.

"That's it, good girl," he panted gruffly. Your compliance pleased him, stroked his dominance. He could feel your body gradually yielding, soft thighs parting wider, hands clutching him instead of pushing away. Rafe kept a relentless pace, pounding into your  tight pussy as the headboard slammed against the stone wall. His mouth found yours, swallowing your whimpers in a ravaging kiss. 

When he finally spilled with a shout, Rafe made certain to grind against your aching clit, determined to drag you over the peak with him. As you shattered again with a broken wail, he groaned his satisfaction. Your mingled release soaked the sheets beneath you. Rafe remained buried inside your trembling body, chest heaving  he stared down at you with possessive intensity burning in his  eyes.

"You're mine forever now, Never forget who owns you…"

Your head falls back breathing raggedly, wincing at the burning pain between your thighs. Your body feels used and exhausted. You blink slowly staring up at him with glazed eyes. You knew that your life would never be the same. That this man..this husband of yours would use your body as he pleased from now on. That intense stare of possession makes you shy away, turning your head and closing your eyes.

He grinned wolfishly as you shyly turned your face away, unable to meet his intense gaze a moment longer. Rafe didn't mind; your demure submission pleased him, as did the colorful marks and love bites his rough passion had left on your throat and breasts. His little wife was well and truly his now. Rafe gentled his hold, fingers almost tender as they brushed the damp curls back from your temple. He pressed a chaste kiss there before murmuring gruffly, "Sleep now, You've earned your rest tonight."

He grinned against your heated skin as you gave a whimper of relief. Gathering you close against his chest, Rafe settled you amidst the rumpled sheets. One leg draped possessively over yours, holding you pinned beneath him as his hand splayed wide over your belly. You were caught, well and truly.

As your breaths evened out in exhausted slumber, Rafe nuzzled into your tousled hair with a satisfied noise.

Early morning sunlight filtered into the lavishly appointed bedchamber, sitting up, you drew the silk bedding around your bare form as you gazed around the empty room. Aside from yourself, there was no evidence Prince Rafe had even been there save the lingering ache between your thighs. You couldn't deny a pang of disappointment he hadn't lingered to greet you this morning. Then again, perhaps it was for the best; after last night you felt uncertain how to act around your new husband.

With a sigh, you rose and donned a silk robe left draped across a nearby chaise. You made your way to the window overlooking the palace grounds, hoping the fresh sea air might clear your mind. Your thoughts drifted back to the prior evening. This marriage would require much patience and understanding on both your parts.You  nurtured a glimmer of hope. With time and care, perhaps you and Rafe could build something beautiful.

After taking a moment to appreciate the ocean view, you turned and began getting ready for the day ahead. You dressed yourself in a pale blue gown left for you, simple yet elegant. After tidying your hair you ventured out into the opulent hallway in search of familiar faces.

It wasn't long before you happened upon Sarah, Wheezie, and Kiara chatting together in one of the palace's lush sitting rooms. You hesitated in the doorway, suddenly feeling shy. But Wheezie looked up and broke into a delighted smile.

"Y/N! You're finally awake, come join us!" The young girl bounded over to catch your hands, leading you inside. Sarah and Kiara both greeted you warmly as you settled onto a sofa beside them.

"We were hoping you'd surface today," Sarah said with a knowing smile. "After the…activities of last night."

You felt your cheeks heat at the implication and Kiara swatted Sarah's arm. "Oh leave her be, I'm sure she doesn't want to dwell on all that." Kiara's kind eyes settled on you. "How are you feeling today?"

You offered a shy smile. "Still a bit overwhelmed, I suppose. This is all so new." your gaze drifted around the elegant room and you exhaled. "I don't think it's fully sunk in yet that I live here now."

Wheezie took your hand, giving it an excited squeeze. "Isn't the palace marvelous? I can give you a full tour later if you'd like."

You laughed softly at the girl's enthusiasm. "I would enjoy that very much, thank you Wheezie." you felt yourself relaxing, warmth swelling in your chest to be surrounded by supportive faces both old and new. Whatever uncertainties awaited in this unfamiliar life, at least you needn't face them alone.

You smile and say "So..um..did you three hear much noise last night?" you asked embarrassed.

Wheezie tilts her head confused but Kiara and Sarah exchange a look, Kiara says "These walls are quite thick don't worry" she reassures.

Sarah smirks and says "I'm sure my dear brother was a perfect gentleman" sarcasm in her voice,

You felt your cheeks flush hotly at Sarah's teasing remark. You cleared your throat, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear self-consciously.

"Well…I mean, of course everything was proper," You stammered, avoiding direct eye contact. In truth, Rafe had been anything but a gentleman once you were alone together. The memories made you shift in your seat.

Kiara shot Sarah a scolding look before turning a sympathetic gaze on you. "I'm sure your first night together was an adjustment. But you know you can talk to us about anything, right? We're here for you."

You nodded, giving your hand a supportive squeeze. "Don't let my scoundrel brother intimidate you. He may act the rogue, but you have a strength in you as well. I saw it at your wedding." Sarah's eyes were earnest. "You're family now. We'll help you figure each other out."

You nodded, offering a small but grateful smile. Perhaps in time you would feel comfortable opening up about the complicated feelings Rafe stirred in you, the exhilaration and uncertainty. But for now, his vulnerabilities were yours to guard.

Wheezie, bless her smiled brightly. "I'm so happy you're my new sister! We're going to have such fun together."

You laughed softly, warmth swelling in your chest. With Sarah and Kiara's wisdom and Wheezie's sweet spirit, you knew you could face this daunting new future. You were no longer alone.

Just then, the head housemaid approaches the women, curtsying politely. "Pardon me, Your Highnesses, but His Majesty King Ward has requested Princess Lila's presence for a private brunch on the veranda. Shall I inform the kitchens to begin preparations?"

You blink in surprise but nod to the maid. "Yes, please let the king know I would be honored to join him." You turn back to the other ladies after the maid departs. "Well, it seems my father-in-law wishes to speak with me alone. I suppose I should change into something more proper." You stand a bit nervously. This would be your first real interaction with the imposing monarch.

"Father can seem intimidating but he appreciates sincerity. And don't let him bully you into anything you're uncomfortable with."

You bid farewell to your friends and made your way back to the bedchambers to ready yourself for the impending brunch with King Ward. Your stomach fluttered anxiously as you  mulled over what he could want to discuss in private.

After freshening up, you carefully selected an elegant mint green day dress with billowing elbow-length sleeves from the wardrobe. You style your hair in a simple yet tidy braided updo and affix a minimal amount of jewelry - a delicate silver pendant necklace and teardrop pearl earrings. A hint of rose gloss on your lips completed the refined look.

Smoothing the skirts of your dress, You exhaled a steadying breath as you regarded your reflection. You hoped your attire properly conveyed the right mix of grace and poise while still retaining your own simple style. As you made your way through the opulent halls towards the veranda, you tried to quell the butterflies in your stomach. You had no reason to be so nervous; after all, you would one day be queen beside Rafe. Proving yourself an able partner who could hold your own was crucial.

Upon arriving at the sunny veranda, you were greeted by the sight of King Ward already seated at a table lavishly arrayed with brunch fare. At your approach, he stood and offered a formal bow.

"Princess Y/N, thank you for accepting my invitation. Please, sit."

You dipped into a curtsy before taking the seat opposite Ward. you met his gaze evenly, resolving to show no weakness. This may be just a brunch, but you sensed the king was assessing your mettle. You would rise to the challenge.

"The honor is mine, Your Majesty. To what do I owe the pleasure of this private audience?" Your tone was polite yet confident. The gleam in Ward's eye told you this was exactly his intent - to take your measure beyond the pomp and flair of the wedding. You straightened your spine, ready to prove your worth.

Ward looks at you curiously before taking a sip of his tea "I wished to speak with you privately, away from the commotion of the palace to get to know my new daughter in law better. This marriage was quick and sudden, but binding our families will be good for the kingdom." He explains.

"Now.." he folds his hands on the table and looks at you intently "Tell me about yourself Y/N, what are your interests?" He asks kindly, wanting to understand your personality and character better.

You relaxed slightly at Ward's polite small talk, offering a gracious smile as you prepared your tea. "Of course, Your Majesty. I appreciate you taking the time to get to know me better outside of all the wedding bustle."

You take a thoughtful sip of your tea before continuing. "Well, I've always enjoyed reading and learning whenever I can. Our library at home was my favorite place to spend long afternoons." A wistful look crosses your face at the memories.

"I also love music - singing, playing the harpsichord. Art and photography are passions of mine as well. Capturing a moment of beauty to appreciate again and again." Your eyes brighten describing your hobbies.

"But I also recognize the importance of being an active participant in the community. I assisted our local orphanage regularly and enjoyed volunteering at functions." You meet Ward's gaze. "I believe those in positions of privilege have an obligation to use their place to aid others. I hope to continue that here."

You pause, glancing at Ward hesitantly. "I know I have much to learn when it comes to politics and courtly matters. But I'm eager to play my role serving the people, and to support Rafe's reign as a strong partner."

You fold your hands in your lap. "I may seem simple on the surface, but I have layers yet to be uncovered. Given time, I know I could thrive here as a princess." You kept your chin lifted, showing sincerity and determination in the face of Ward's intense scrutiny.

Ward considers your words carefully, looking thoughtful as he sips his tea. Finally he sets down his cup and leans back in his seat, steepling his fingers.

"A commendable answer. You show wisdom beyond your years, Y/N, as well as a refreshing earnestness." One corner of his mouth quirks upward. "Far better than the vapid socialites I feared Rafe might foist upon us."

You had to suppress a smile at Ward's dry humor. The king regards you keenly.

"My son has always followed his passions, often recklessly. He will need a partner of substance who can balance his…impulsiveness, and check his wilder whims. From our limited interactions, I believe you may have the mettle needed to temper his nature, in time."

He tilts his head, eyes assessing. "The question is, do you have the will? Rafe can be stubborn, even cruel when provoked. This role will require patience and resilience.

You meet Ward's gaze levelly. "I understand the challenges, Your Majesty. But I intend to face them. Rafe may be impulsive, but he needs compassion to steady him, not control." You keep your voice firm but respectful. "I believe we can forge something stronger together."

Ward stares at you pensively before cracking the barest smile. "Well said. Perhaps you are the making of each other." He lifts his teacup in salute. "I look forward to seeing what unfolds between you two. The road will not be smooth, but you strike me as a girl who finishes what she starts."

You dip your head graciously at the veiled praise, hope blooming in your chest. If you can earn even this guarded man's approval, perhaps you truly have a chance to thrive in this strange new home.

After the brunch you go for a walk around the palace grounds, you hum softly looking at all the flowers. You find a bench under a willow tree near the royal cemetery. Sitting down you close your eyes enjoying the warm breeze. After a little while you hear leaves crunching behind you and turn to see Rafe approaching. His hair is windswept, eyes tired, and his shirt is half unbuttoned. He looks stressed about something. Noticing you sitting there he stops and sighs running a hand through his messy hair. "oh..hey.." he greets plainly, unsure what to say.

You look up in surprise as Rafe approaches, taking in his disheveled appearance and the tension in his frame. You offer a tentative smile. "Hello. Enjoying the gardens as well?"

Rafe drags a hand through his already tousled hair, gaze darting away almost guiltily. "Yeah…I just needed some air. Place was feeling a bit stifling."

You nod in understanding, gesturing to the empty space on the bench. After a pause, Rafe settles beside you, though his posture remains rigid. Silence stretches between them, the atmosphere oddly awkward after the passion you had shared.

Wanting to break the tension, You glance sidelong at Rafe. "I had an interesting brunch with your father this morning. He…seems satisfied with me as your choice of wife." You keep your tone light, hoping Rafe will open up about what's troubling him.

He snorts softly. "Of course he scrutinized you. The great King Ward misses nothing." There's an edge of bitterness to his words. Rafe's shoulders slump slightly as he gazes out at the sun-dappled lawn, tension leaking from his frame.

"I know you two barely know each other. This whole situation is less than ideal." He rakes another hand through his hair, messing the dirty blonde strands. When he looks back at you, his eyes are troubled. "I just hope…well, that you can find some happiness here. Despite my family's meddling."

Your expression softens the sincerity in his words. Gently, you rest your hand atop his where it rests on his knee. "This may have begun unusually, but the future remains unwritten. We have a say in what happens now."

Rafe's eyes widen slightly at your touch, but he doesn't pull away. Tentatively he turns his palm up to lace your fingers, the gesture intimate.

Your heart flutters hopefully. Perhaps your new husband isn't as aloof as he pretends. You sit in more comfortable silence for a moment, hands entwined, gazing out at the peaceful view.

Finally Rafe clears his throat gruffly. "We should head back soon. But…thank you, for understanding." He squeezes your hand gently before releasing it and standing. The air between you feels lighter somehow as you head back to the palace together.

You nod and stand up, smoothing out your dress. You smile softly up at him "Of course..I know this is all still new." As you walk you tentatively slip your hand in his, giving it a little squeeze.

When you reach the palace doors Rafe pulls his hand away abruptly, his face becoming cold and distant again. "I have business to attend to..I will see you later at dinner." He mutters before walking off not waiting for a response.

You watch him hurry off confused and a little hurt by his sudden aloofness again after the tender moment you just shared. Biting your lip anxiously you head inside to find Kiara and Sarah, hoping they can provide some insight on Rafe’s mercurial moods.

Making your way through the lavish corridors, you eventually locate Sarah and Kiara chatting in one of the palace sitting rooms. They both greet you cheerfully, but their smiles fade at your obvious distress.

"What's wrong? You look upset about something," Kiara asks in concern, guiding you to sit beside her on an embroidered settee.

You smooth your skirt, unsure how much to confide about your mercurial new spouse. "I'm just…having some difficulty figuring Rafe out. One moment he seems open and tender, the next he's cool and distant."

Sarah nods knowingly. "Yes, my dear brother has always been moody. Passionate one instant, petulant the next." She pats your hand. "Try not to take it personally. Rafe has trouble reconciling his heart and his duties."

"He's under immense pressure as future king," Kiara adds sympathetically. "It likely makes him feel vulnerable, so he compensates by being remote."

You consider this, comforted by your friends' wisdom. Perhaps Rafe's moodiness stemmed from feeling inadequate, not indifference toward you.

Sarah smiles encouragement. "Keep being patient and meeting him where he's at, Y/N. In time, he'll realize you're a safe place to share his burdens."

Kiara agrees. "Just show compassion and understanding. Your open heart is your greatest gift."

You smile, buoyed by their sisterly advice. If Rafe is skittish of closeness, you would have to coax him out gently, not take his distance personally. Your future depended on bridging this chasm, no matter how long it took.

You smile gratefully "You both give such wise counsel, I don't know what I'd do without you." you say sincerely.

Sarah waves a hand "Oh please, what are friends for? Besides putting conceited brothers in their place that is." She jokes, making you laugh.

"Would you both accompany me to dinner tonight? Having you close by keeps me calm when I have to interact with Rafe and his family. It's all still so intimidating." you admit.

Kiara loops your arms together. "Of course! We'll be right by your side the whole night." She reassures you.

Sarah nods in agreement. "Rafe may be stubborn but he'll come around. In the meantime, we'll make sure you feel welcome here."

Your eyes mist over with gratitude at their unconditional support. With such true friends at your side, you feel able to endure Rafe's unpredictability and find your place in this unfamiliar world.

You spend the afternoon with Sarah and Kiara, their lighthearted company bolstering your spirits after your confusing encounter with Rafe. By the time evening falls and you make your way to the grand dining hall, You feel much more centered and calm with your two dear friends accompanying you.

As you enter the spacious hall, You instinctively seek out Rafe's tall form. Your husband stands stiffly beside King Ward near the head of the table, face an impassive mask. But you notice faint circles under his eyes, hinting at his inner turmoil.

Sarah gives your arm a subtle, reassuring squeeze as you take your seats. Kiara offers an encouraging smile from your other side. Bolstered by their quiet support, You straighten your spine and meet Rafe's shuttered gaze evenly when it drifts your way. You will not cower from his moods.

Dinner passes uneventfully, full of empty courtly pleasantries you have little patience for. Throughout the meal, you make subtle attempts to catch Rafe's eye, hoping to convey mute understanding across the table. But he remains withdrawn, jaw tense as he interacts minimally with the guests.

Your heart sinks at his continued distance, but you refuse to let it show. When the meal concludes, you excuse yourself politely before exiting the hall, chin held high. Your friends move to follow, but you still them with a slight shake of your head.

"Stay, enjoy the festivities. I just need some time alone to clear my head." At their understanding nods, You gather your skirts and make your way out into the moonlit gardens.

The fresh night air soothes you as you find that stone bench under a willow tree again. You tilt your face up to the stars, seeking guidance. Patience and empathy were your only weapons against Rafe's barricades. You could not force him to meet you halfway. Sighing softly, You close your eyes and make a silent wish upon the moon. Bring down your walls, my guarded prince. Let me inside.

As you sit peacefully under the stars, you gradually become aware of footsteps approaching on the garden path. You open your eyes to see Rafe striding towards you, still dressed in his formal dinner attire. He looks surprised to see you there.

"Oh..I didn't realize you'd be out here," he remarks, seeming conflicted about whether to stay or turn back. After a brief hesitation, he moves to sit beside you on the bench, staring straight ahead into the darkness.

"I suppose I don't blame you for wanting to escape that dreadful affair either," he mutters, mouth twisting wryly. "The noble court can be rather insufferable."

You study  his tense profile curiously. There is obviously something he wants to express, but is struggling to find the words for. You decide to take a gentle approach.

"The night sky is quite beautiful here. I enjoy having this serene place to collect my thoughts when things feel…overwhelming." You keep your tone soft, hoping he might open up.

Rafe's jaw works, eyes fixed ahead. Several moments of tense silence pass before he speaks again, voice low. "I… apologize for my poor company today. You deserve better from your husband." He finally meets your gaze, remorse flickering in his eyes.

Your expression softens. Gently, you reach over to cover his hand with yours in a gesture of understanding. "I know this transition has been challenging for us both. But we will figure it out, together."

Rafe's eyes widen slightly at your easy forgiveness. After a beat, he turns his palm over to tentatively lace your fingers. You feel your heart lift as Rafe opens up, however hesitantly. You give his hand a gentle, encouraging squeeze, hoping he will continue.

After another strained silence, Rafe drags his free hand through his hair, leaving it endearingly mussed. "I just…I want to be the man they need me to be. My father, the kingdom." He lifts his eyes to the moon.

You feel your heart swell as Rafe opens up, the ice in his gaze melting to reveal vulnerability beneath. You give his hand another encouraging squeeze.

"It's alright, you don't have to be perfect. Just be yourself." Rafe sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"I wish it were that simple. But certain things are expected of me, duties I can't shirk." His shoulders slump under the invisible weight.

You nod in understanding. "I know. But you don't have to carry it all alone. I'm here now, to listen and support you. We're partners in this." You trail your thumb over his knuckles, hoping he understands you won't abandon him to his burdens.

Rafe turns to look at you fully, eyes searching yours. He seems startled to find only sincerity and care reflected back at him. "You deserve a medal for putting up with me," he says wryly, but gratitude shines through the humor.

You just smile. "I don't need medals, just your word you won't shut me out again."

Rafe considers your request, then nods solemnly. "You have it. Thank you for…being you." He gives your hand a gentle, meaningful squeeze.

You share a tender smile under the moonlight, the air between you lighter somehow. There is hope for you yet if you continue reaching out in understanding. You know the road won't be easy, but you're willing to walk it with this complicated man who is now your partner. With patience and care, your arranged union could blossom into something real. For now, this moment of connection beneath the stars feels like a promising start.

You smile softly and say "Of course, that's what partners are for. Now…" You stand up smoothing your dress. "Why don't we go for a walk? The gardens are beautiful at night." You suggest wanting to spend more relaxing quality time with him.

Rafe runs a hand through his hair and smiles a little. "I'd like that." He agrees and stands up, offering his arm to you politely.

You loop your arm through his and you begin walking at a leisurely pace admiring the flowers and fountains illuminated by moonlight.

For a time you simply walk in comfortable silence, appreciating the nocturnal blooms and gently babbling fountains surrounding them. You breathe deeply, filling your lungs with the sweet floral scents on the night breeze. After being cooped up in the palace much of the day, it feels freeing to be outside enjoying nature's beauty.

You sneak a glance at Rafe and find the tension gone from his features, replaced by a look of contentment. His eyes seem brighter beneath the stars, and the hints of a smile play at his lips. Seeing him relaxed and unguarded makes your heart flutter with hope.

Eventually Rafe's voice breaks the silence. "Thank you for this. I can't remember the last time I just…existed, without pressures and duties weighing me down."

You smile. "Of course. We all need room to breathe." Timidly you reach over to give his hand a gentle squeeze. Rafe glances down in surprise but doesn't pull away.

The moment feels suspended in time, just the two of you and the hushed music of the garden. You wished you could stay here forever, away from the complications of family and royalty. But for now, this stolen moment of tranquility together feels like a step toward healing.

Keeping your hand covering his, you scoot a little closer, your sides now pressed together.You rest your head on his shoulder tentatively.

"Can we just stay out here a little longer? I don't want this moment to end.." You whisper not wanting the peaceful feeling to disappear once you have to go back inside.

Rafe looks down at you surprised by the contact but doesn't move away. The scent of your floral perfume surrounds him, making his heart skip. No one has shown him such tenderness before. Slowly he rests his head against yours.

"Just a little longer.." He agrees quietly, closing his eyes. For now all the stresses and responsibilities melt away as you sit together under the stars. He wishes he could freeze this feeling and live in it forever.

Rafe's thumb strokes over your knuckles, touch feather-light. The caress sends a thrill through you even as it soothes. You angle yourself closer, memorizing his warmth, his scent, the rhythm of his breathing. This gentle side of him feels like a gift, one you will safeguard.

The hour grows late, the moon sinking low. Reluctantly you lift your head, meeting Rafe's drowsy gaze. "We should head back," you murmur. He nods, reluctance shadowing his eyes. But the new bond between you remains as you slowly rise and retrace your steps out of the garden. Whatever comes next, you will face it together.

As you reluctantly make your way back inside the silent palace hand in hand. Pausing outside your bed chamber door you turn to him. "Thank you for tonight..I haven't felt this content in a long time." You admit with a soft smile.

Rafe rubs the back of his neck "Yeah..me too.." Glancing around awkwardly to make sure no one is around he takes both your hands in his. "Y/N I…I know this whole situation is less than ideal..but I'm grateful to have you as my wife. You've shown me more care and patience than anyone." He says sincerely, gazing into your eyes. "I'll try to be the man you deserve from now on.." He promises softly.

You blink back tears, deeply moved. "All I want is for you to be yourself. The rest we'll figure out together." You offer a tremulous smile.

Rafe searches your face before nodding slowly. Still clasping one of your hands, he reaches up to tenderly tuck a loose curl behind your ear. The affectionate gesture makes your breath hitch.

"Together," Rafe repeats. He starts to lean in, then hesitates. Your eyes flutter closed in tacit permission. A moment later, the barest brush of his lips grazes your cheek in a feather-light kiss.

As Rafe pulls back, your eyes open to find him watching you, desire and uncertainty mingling in his gaze. You give his hand one more squeeze in reassurance before slipping inside your room.

Alone in the darkness, You press a hand to your tingling cheek. Tonight was a turning point for you guys, you feel it. With open hearts, this arranged union just might transform into a true marriage.