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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months

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Reader Lore - Born to Break Records

So this is a little filler for between now and the next chapter. This chapter might have triggers for death, abusive parents, and brief mentions of bullying. If these make you uncomfortable, then please feel free to skip this chapter. The synopsis is the reader’s life up until her first race win in F2.

Welcome to Reader-Lore

2003

The cry of a baby filled the sterile walls of the delivery room. Pants filled in the quiet moments, but were mostly covered. The wailing baby was placed into the arms of the waiting mother, the father looking down on the two.

“It’s a girl,” the nurse told them, writing something down in a book.

The atmosphere suddenly changed. The once hopeful air was dampened with disappointment. The father sighed loudly, turning his head to look out the window. The mother, who had held her baby tight, loosened her grip. Her nose was now scrunched in borderline disgust.

The nurse, feeling the off energy, offered to take the baby girl. She made some excuse about needing to weigh her and make sure that she was healthy, things that could have waited until after the parents bonded.

The mother was quick to hand her over, waiving her hand as though it wasn’t a big deal. The father had now moved farther away from the hospital bed.

The baby had started to wail once more after being taken from the arms of her mother. Arms that she thought were safe. Arms connected to the body that had cared for her for 9 months. Arms that suddenly did not hold her tight. Arms that willingly gave her away to some stranger.

Once the nurse and frightened infant left the from, the mother and father looked at each other.

“I wanted a boy,” the male murmured.

The female rolled her eyes, “I know. And so did I. But we don’t have a choice anymore.”

“We do. Could always leave her here. A boy would be able to break records. A girl is useless.”

“And be arrested? No thank you.” The mother rolled on her side, arms around her front. The father just huffed.

“Everything we talked about, our future, is now a wasted memory.”

The mother looked at the door with a sliver of hope, although, it was too small for anyone to see it. “Maybe she can do everything that you wanted a boy to do.”

“We can just have another baby,” the father persisted.

“You heard the doctor. It would be too dangerous for me to have another. What’s done is done. You can walk out now if you can’t commit.” The woman went to say something else, but was interrupted by whimpers.

The nurse had walked back in, now with a swaddled baby. Begrudgingly, the mother held her hands out to take the bundle of blankets. She looked down at the brand new baby, but her heart didn’t swell with pride like she read about. Her heart filled with distain, as if the baby were a Christmas present that she didn't want. But this time, she couldn’t return the baby like she’d return a gift at whatever store it was bought from.

The father had taken a few steps closer to the bed, but kept his distance. There wasn’t a bone in his body that actually wanted the child.

“We still need a name for her,” the nurse stated, clicking her pen.

The mother glanced to the father before saying, “Y/n. Her name is Y/n.”

2008 – Five years old

The air was stuffy, filled with the scent of petrol and burnt rubber. The quiet that could have been was broken by the rattles of engines and throttles. You wished for silence.

You wanted nothing to do with this. But, you’d rather get in a kart then flinch at your father’s hand. You had been allowed to wander around the track. The big boys were driving now. And by big boys, you meant 11- and 10-year-olds. They were bigger than you and drove karts that were so much faster than the little one that you had.

You looked around. There was definitely not a shortage of girls hanging around, but none were dressed like you. Most were the older or younger sisters of the drivers. Their pink tops, paired with shorts or skirts, flowed in the wind. None of them were wearing an old itchy race suit that was two sized too big. They were allowed to wear sandals, while you had to endure the tight racing shoes that your dad had definitely yanked on the laces too much. It wasn’t your fault that you hadn’t learn to tie them yet.

You watched their hair bounce in the tall pony tails tied on the tops of their heads. They didn’t need their hair to be wrapped in a bun at the base of their necks so that it could fit into a helmet.

You wished that your mom and dad would allow you to cut it off so that you could be the boy that they wanted. You knew that they didn’t want you, your little mind was able to catch on to things like that.

You understood patterns. Patterns on the track helped you know what areas to avoid. Patters on the kart taught you where to put your feet and hands. Patterns told you that moms and dads should be happy for their children, and not yell at them. Patters revealed that children did not flinch when their parents patted their heads or caressed their cheeks.

The wind blew loud as the kart race came to a close. You knew that you needed to get back quickly to where you parents were waiting, but you wanted to see the winners, wanted to see them taste a victory that you were so desperate for.

You squeezed past the other boys and looked up at the three on the podium. The one on the lowest step wasn’t rememberable. His hair looked the same as others. His height wasn’t tall or small, just in the middle.

But the boys on the other two steps were. The one on the second pedestal had a shaggy hair cut, with bangs that pointed down. You had seen him before, surrounded by his family. A little brother, a big brother, mom and dad, and then a man who looked at the boy with stars in his eyes.

You wished someone looked at you like that.

“And in second place, Charles Leclerc.” So that was his name. Sharl. His eyes were bright green and filled with light and hope. But a sadness still glazed them as he looked up at the boy on the top step.

The boy who towered over the crowd had blond sandy hair. For a winner, he didn’t look happy. His blue eyes didn’t hold the same brightness that the green eyes had.

“And our winner, Max Verstappen!”

That was a nice name. Max. You wanted to look at the boy winner for a few more moments. Engrave his image into your mind. Because, you didn’t know when the next time you’d be able to do this. Your dad would probably ban you from such things, saying something like you didn’t need to look at something you’d never achieve.

But you were hungry.

You were taken out of your watching by the announcement that your own race was going to start soon. And you weren’t in your kart.

You rushed through the crowd, trying to put on your bright pink helmet on. You could put your gloves on while you got into your kart.

By the time you got there, your dad was already looking at you with a disappointed look. Your mother was nowhere to be found.

“Where have you been,” he hissed, hitting your helmet.

“I wanted to see the podiums,” you muttered, getting your gloves on.

Your dad shook his head. “What have I told you about that?”

“That I shouldn’t look at things that I can’t get.”

“Exactly. Now get in your kart.”

You did as he said. You heart was pounding as you taxied the little thing onto the smaller track. You were able to be seen by everyone, your helmet acting as a little flag. It seemed to say “look at me! I’m the only girl trying to be on par with all these boys! Watch me fail!”

But you were determined to prove them all wrong.

By the last lap, you were right behind one more kart. One more pass and you could win. Prove your dad wrong. Prove everyone wrong.

You watched as he broke your pattern. The pattern that would help you win.

He made a mistake, and you welcomed it with glee.

You passed over the finish line with a significant gap behind you and that boy. At the stopping point, you parked your kart and stepped out, exhaling sharply.

You thought that people would cheer and shout, but the silence that you had wished for earlier had come to haunt you.

You won and there was nothing to celebrate.

2015 – Twelve years old

Everyone thought he was crazy. There was no way that he was going to sponsor a 12 year old in karting, a female none the less.

He wasn’t crazy. How could he not want to sponsor you, a consecutive race winner in your league. He constantly watched you drive circles around the boys who would berate you in their free time. He watched as you would let their words roll right off your back. You didn’t let their words get to you.

But, he was your godfather and he had a sense of responsibility for you. He watched as you climbed out of the kart, looking around trying to find a familiar face.

He could see your eyebrows raise through the visor when you caught sight of him.

“LoLo!” you yelled, quickly sprinting over to him. He was ready to catch you, but not expecting the hit with your helmet.

He let out an oof as you knocked him slightly off balance.

“Hey kid! You did good!” He rubbed your helmet as if it were hair. You quickly unbuckled the pink contraption and took it off, hair sticking to your forehead.

You looked around before your shoulders slumped. You kicked a rock as you spoke, “They didn’t come.”

Lorenzo had noticed a lack of your parents as soon as he arrived. He would have come earlier to help you with your kart if he had known that they weren’t here. He looked down at you with sad eyes, and that’s the last thing you wanted.

You always wished for someone to look at you with so much love and affection that it poured out of their soul. But you only ever got looks of hatred and pity.

He rubbed your shoulder, “It’s ok kid. But you wanna know something?” He crouched down to your level, pant legs getting damp with moisture. You nodded your head. “LoLo gets to sponsor you!”

You gasped, eyes tearing. Even though you were twelve, you knew the weight of the situation. Your parents had told you that because you were winning, you were embarrassing them. And because you were embarrassing them, they wouldn’t pay any more years of karting after this one. You wailed when you told Lorenzo the next time you saw him. And he saw your heart break into itty bitty pieces while you did.

When you left, he looked into every possibly way that he could keep you in karting. The only option was to sponsor you.

And sponsor you he did. He emailed, texted, and called multiple companies, trying to get their support. He would get sponsorship to put on your kart so that you could carry the logos proudly. He had your new one sitting in the back of his old truck, but that was a surprise. It was blue with two proud bulls on the very front. He had done it. He found you a sponsor that would keep you going for a couple of years.

His thoughts were interrupted by you actually knocking him over. He knew his sweater was getting damp, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to see you smile for the rest of his life.

You were too busy whispering thank you after thank you for you to notice the weird looks that you were getting. Looks from the boys that you had just beaten. Looks from the parents who didn’t know the worries of paying for karting.

He quickly picked you up and took you back over to get your cart. He helped you load it on the mover and rolled it over to his truck. You wouldn’t be needing this kart that was almost falling apart. You had a new one, and you’d be all right.

You talked the whole way home, animatedly moving your hands around as you described your latest win. Your hands rolled over the other as you showed him how you turned the wheel, barely clipping the front of the kart who wanted to push you off.

Lorenzo only looked at you with pure adoration. A look that you wanted so much, but were too busy to see due to your explanations of your imaginations.

Maybe he was crazy, but he didn’t think so.

2019 – Sixteen years old (F3)

Your eyes were pricked with tears as you read the letter you received in the mail. The big letters of DISOWNMENT flashed in the reflections. They had done it weeks ago, according to the date on the top of the paper. By now, your things were probably thrown away or burned.

You had just finished the F4 category and were making a name for yourself in F3. You couldn’t deal with this now. One of the management people came and knocked on your door, telling you that the race was about to start.

You crumpled the paper up and threw it in the trash. If they didn’t need you, you didn’t need them. That was the lie you continually told yourself. Of course a girl needed her parents. They were the people who were supposed to nurture you and help you.

But they never did that in the first place. At least you didn’t have to constantly buy drug store foundation and concealer and try to explain the black and blue around your eyes after it melted off during the race. No more flinching. No more hiding.

Just no more.

You would call Lorenzo and see if you could stay with him for a bit during the break. You would have to or you wouldn’t have a place to sleep.

Your breath shuddered at the thought.

You told yourself that you knew this was coming. They had cut all contact with you months ago and weren’t spotted when you went home during the last break.

You allowed the tears to fall as you got your helmet on. No one would see the streams as you placed your visor down. You were now hidden away from the weird looks that everyone sent you. No girl had ever made it this far.

Sure as you grew, there were girls in karting. That number seemed to increase in F4. Most of them were from the driver academies. You were still able to participate due to multiple sponsorships that Lorenzo had gotten you.

But with increase, there has to be a decrease. You were currently the only female in F3 and were set to be the only female to make it to F2. Well, that’s what everyone told you. Your stats reflected your need to prove yourself.

Race win after race win helped thrust you through the blockades built by men. They wouldn’t stop you, and you didn’t want to stop. Not now, not ever.

Each race win fueled your hunger in this world. And it only grew and grew.

Your tears were brushed away by the wind brushing through your car. At that moment, you told yourself that you wouldn’t cry over your parents ever again. They didn’t deserve them.

You could cry about other things. Such as passing over the finish line, marking your first win in F3.

You constantly showed the world that you could do it. You wanted to cry again as you listened to your anthem. You wanted to cry when the boys celebrated with each other, leaving you out. You wanted to cry as you walked back to your “motor home,” knowing that it was put up quickly for you.

The time you finally let yourself cry was when you were talking with Lorenzo on the phone. Your eyes were tired and dehydrated by the time you quit. Lorenzo was able to calm you down. He told you that he would take care of everything, take care of you.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to see him much though. The F3 calendar was far busier than the F4 one had. And you knew the moment you entered F2, time for relaxation would be far and few between.

But you had Lorenzo to fall back on when the times got hard. You could always count on him.

2020 – Seventeen years old (F2)

It was too soon. Too too soon. It wasn’t fair either. Your tears had not stopped streaming down your face since you arrived. The sterile smell itched your nose, but you needed to be here. For him.

He had gotten paler in the few moments since you had been there. His breath rattled with each inhale and exhale. And each breath brought more tears. You didn’t want to let him go.

“Please LoLo. I can’t do this without you,” you whispered, knowing that he probably would not hear you. The doctors told you that he was far too gone for that, but you liked to believe that he was still listening. “You can’t leave me like everyone has. I can’t be alone. I need you.” You put your face down in the blankets, squeezing his hand.

The nurses stood in the door, with tears of their own. They were watching a child lose the only family that she had left.

You inhaled sharply, wiping your tears away.

“You know I’m going to do it. For you. It’s only ever been you. You’ve been my best friend and I don’t know how I’m going to get through this scary world without you.” You hiccupped. “But, I know that you need to go. And I’m being selfish for keeping you here.”

You stood and kissed his forehead.

“Thank you LoLo, for everything. I love you.”

His chest rose, fell, rose, and fell.

But didn’t rise again. The multiple beeps from the different machines let you know that he was gone. And he wasn’t coming back.

One of the nurses came and rubbed your back as you sobbed, not caring who heard you. Your tears did not stop.

They didn’t stop on the plane to Bahrain. They refused to dry up during the practices as you set record times. They let up as you gave post-practice interviews, saving you from being embarrassed.

You cried as you put your helmet on. Stickers had been placed on it the night before with Lorenzo’s name and dates of birth and death to commemorate his legacy that would continue through you.

You knew this race was important. You heard that multiple F1 drivers were there to watch. And you’d give them a spectacle, before hiding away to burry your dead godfather. You hoped that the blond kid with blue eyes that had grown up by now was there. He didn’t need to know that you looked up to him. You just hoped that he’d be there. And possibly the green eyed Justin Bieber look-a-like as well, you had followed him too.

You had managed to score a P5 starting on the grid and you knew it would be tough to fight for the front. But you had a feeling that you’d be just fine.

And just fine you were.

You all hauled your F2 car over that finish line, finishing with a gap of 10 seconds. Your crew was screaming in your ear through the radio and congratulations were being thrown everywhere. You pulled into the number 1 spot and climbed onto the nose. You put your finger on the big numbers on the nose of your car, kissed the finger that touched it, and raised it, pointing at the sky. You had changed your driver number to the permanent 89 this season, and for the rest of your career.

One time, Lorenzo had showed you pictures of when he used to kart. The big 89 was visible through the old photographs. He had trophies upon trophies, but was never picked up by anyone. You told him that if he had raced these days, he’d be able to skip everything and would be put into an F1 car immediately. He had just laughed and told you to do it for him.

So that’s what you were doing. After you commemoration, you scrambled down the car and jumped into the crews waiting arms. These days, you did not flinch when they hit your helmet. You knew that these were celebrations for racers and you were thankful to partake. Two boys followed you up and went before you. You didn’t remember their names, only the Australian accent and the odd American accent. But they would remember your name.

You carried your flag high as you walked onto the stage. The anthem sounded much sweeter this time around. The trophy felt a little heavier this time though. You looked up to see those blue eyes that you saw many years ago. Max said a quick congratulations before you raised it as though to almost offer it to the open sky. This time, you let the tears go. You quicky wiped them away and picked up the giant bottle of champagne. You hauled it over your shoulder and sprayed the others, absolutely drenching them.

This time, they did it to you as well.

You knew you made it.

I’ll do it for you, LoLo.

December 2024 – Twenty-one years old

Christian Horner sat in the folding chair, as he did year after year. A camera was right in front of him, with an interviewer to the side.

“Please state your name for the camera.” He rolled his eyes.

“My name is Christian Horner, and I am the Team Principal of the Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 Team.”

“Let’s talk about your driver, Y/n L/n.”

The screen cuts to the pace of your car, passing multiple others in one clean sweep.

“She’s one of the best talents I’ve seen in a while.”

A scene of you holding a trophy, high in the sky.

“What is one thing that you admire about your driver. She has said a lot about you.” Christian smiled. Of course you had. You told him that you saw him as the dad you never had.

“Almost everything she touches, she turns it to gold.”

The scene changes to your first win. The crowds of red cheered your name. Something you didn’t think was possible. You had taken that win from their favorites and you were being praised for it. Slow-motion splashes of champagne hit you from either side as you wiped your face.

The scene returns, but Max is in Christian’s spot.

“She’s different. She’s the epitome of what a rookie should be. I’m just thankful that she’s my teammate and not working against me.”

The screen fades to two Red Bull cars with an Aston Martin in between them.

“Y/n, Max is currently behind the Aston. Gap to you is 1.237 seconds,” Mitch’s voice is heard off screen through the radio.

“Tell Maxie that it’s time to do the old switcharoo!”

Your car suddenly slowed down just enough on the turn, and the crowd cheered as Max’s car went wide, putting him before you. You quickly got in his slip stream and the two of you sped off, leaving the green car in the dust.

Another driver, with green eyes, is now in the seat, answering the same question.

Charles looked up in thought while blowing some air out his lips. “She’s fearless. You normally don’t see that anywhere. Sure, everyone gets scared if they have an impact, especially as big as the one she had, but not her.”

The camera cuts to the violent scene of your first DNF. Your car flipped, you were trapped. People’s faces were adorned with tears including Christian, no one had been able to contact you. Yet, the focus is now on you, wiggling out from beneath the wreckage. You, in spite of it all, raised your fist as though you were celebrating a first win.

The scene cuts to an Australian with a straight smile. He looks semi-uncomfortable in the seat.

“It looked like you and L/n had a tussle in the beginning. Is that true?”

Oscar shook his head. “There was never a tussle. We both made mistakes, but that’s racing. Wheels touch all the time: it doesn’t mean that we have the urge to take each other out.”

The interviewer continued, “But she did take you out.”

The screen fades to a clip of two cars dangerously close together, one orange and one navy.

David Croft’s voice could be heard, “And there goes the Red Bull of Y/n L/n and the McLaren of Oscar Piastri! They are close together around that corner and they aren’t backing down. Are they going to make contact! And they do! Off the track they go, debris is everywhere. And I don’t think they are going to be able to continue.”

You knew that you should not have “never backed down never what-ed.” But Oscar was going for it and so were you. And you felt terrible. You quickly used the halo to climb out. Looking over, Oscar was doing the same thing.

The camera followed you as you made your way through the swarming stewards. You just knew that you needed to check on the Aussie.

The crowds could hear David speak again, “Oh no. Looks like L/n is mad. Does Red Bull have a thing for drivers with anger issues?”

Oscar looked up and saw you storming towards him, batting away the stewards hands. He stiffened, ready for anything. But what he didn’t expect was a giant hug. He could feel you shaking and he quickly put his hands around you.

“I’m ok.”

The screen flashes back to Oscar.

He huffed, “She did. But the moment she got out of the car, she came to check on me. She batted away the stewards who were desperate to make sure that she was fine, since she took the brunt of the hit. If that doesn’t convince you that Y/n is a great friend and better driver, then I don’t know what will.” The Aussie looked livid.

The scene cuts to now a new face, your manager.

The interviewer asks, “What is something that people might not know about Y/n.” Vito put his hand to his chin. You had already given him the permission to talk about what might be discussed.

He inhaled, “She’s strong. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.”

“Can you give us an example?”

“The kid was disowned in 2019, right before her F3 debut. And you know what she did? She put that F3 car in the P1 spot. She never showed it though. She held her head high, and was squeezing into her place, that was waiting for her, in this sport.”

A quick flash of 16 year old you, holding your first F3 trophy, was shown on screen.

Vito kept talking as the scene changed to you walking around your motor home, greeting everyone who was there. They knew what had happened, and comforted you with words and hugs. You were thankful for them.

“She also lost her godfather Lorenzo in January 2020. It was heartbreaking to hear her over the phone. Her debut in F2 was the next day. I told her that she didn’t have to, but she insisted that she needed to race, to win.”

The camera followed 17 year old you, helmet on and visor down, as you walked to your F2 car, shining with your new number.

“In less than 24 hours, she was back in the car.”

Your car sped down the straight, over the finish line.

“And she won.”

The scene shifted to 23 year old Max Verstappen handing you the big F2 trophy. Tears could be seen in your eyes as you took the cup and thanked him.

“Did you know?”

Max looked at her in bewilderment. “I didn’t. And you would have never guessed it. Y/n has her heart on her sleeve, everywhere she goes, except when she races.”

A quick cut now shows Christian back in the seat.

“The last driver I saw with that mental strength was Charles Leclerc. He previously lost his godfather, and then lost his father. A few days later he won his race. Y/n lost the only family she had in less than a year.” Christian laughed. “These rookies are built different. You’d think they were made for the earlier days of racing, with how much they put into it. But Y/n, I don’t know. Her aura commands attention.”

The scenes now shown are from multiple races.

The camera followed you as you walked through the crowded paddock, trying to get back to hospitality. You thought that it would be different, that you’d have to squeeze through to get by. But with each step you took, the people parted like water.

You flashed a smile at many fans who seemed awestruck to be in your presence.

A new driver is now in the seat.

“She’s almost like Charles, in a sense,” Lando said. “The two of them,” he looked around, “I don’t know. It’s hard to describe.”

“Can you try?” Lando shot her a cheeky grin. “They are basically the F1 royalty. Any driver has a ‘celebrity image’ and people are excited to see us outside. They ask to take pictures, but they also do things against us.”

The scene cuts to multiple instances of booing and pushing drivers.

“And yet, Charles and Y/n bend them to their will almost. They listen to them. The King and Queen of Formula 1.”

A video of you, Lando, Max, and Charles speaking before the Monaco Grand Prix plays.

“Ah, Max. Did I tell you that we have to address them as your highness now?”

Max looked up from his phone and followed Lando’s finger that was pointed at Charles and you, deep in conversation.

“No? Why?” Lando walked over and showed him the edit and comments on his phone.

The caption read “Y/n L/n and Charles Leclerc are F1 royalty and we need to address them as such.” The video that played started with a clip of Charles in Monaco, with the grid and Monegasque royalty behind him. He looked so majestic. It switched over to you in your home country, with a crowd around your pedestal. You hadn’t even won yet, and they looked at you as though you hung the moon. You stretched out your arms and the crowd roared.

Max looked back at the two, who were ignorantly blissed. Max looked up at Lando.

“You’re right.”

The camera is back to Charles.

His eyes were wide with eyebrows raised, “Lando really said that.” He smirked. Shuffling up to good posture he said, “I’m fine with that. Y/n has always been different, but in a good way. She knows what the people wants, but also doesn’t get caught up in all the PR. She’s herself.”

A clip of you with fans plays. Your smile was mirrored with theirs. Everyone wanted to see you, hug you, feel you. And the waves that were emanating from you only made the crowd happier.

Now, the seat is occupied by none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton.

“What do I think about Y/n?” he questions back to himself. “I know that she is one of the best rookies to ever come across in the world of Formula 1. I’ve had the opportunity to share podiums with so many drivers, but her? There’s something different.”

The scene flashes to a podium shared with you, Lewis, and Max. Lewis had been able to take the win, leaving you on the third step. You had almost had the win, but a late safety car ruined it. Lewis looked over at you, expecting a disappointed face. But all he saw was a smile that rivaled the sun.

“She never seems to be disappointed with anything. Even if she was to qualify in last place, she would still smile.” Lewis laughed. “And I think everyone loves her more than they realize.”

A small clip of you and a bulldog flashes across the screen. Roscoe was licking all over your face.

“Roscoe, stop!” But you were laughing, and the dog thought that he should continue. Lewis found the two of you in the middle of the floor in the Mercedes hospitality. A blanket was draped around your shoulders.

“And what are you doing here kid?” Lewis put his hands on his sides.

You shrugged. “Toto told me I could hang out here. Max is having one of those ‘adult meetings’ that Christian says my ears shouldn’t hear. I think they forget that I’m 21 now.”

Lewis just laughed, thinking of how Toto must have let you in and had given you a blanket as well. He just ruffled your hair and sat on the ground with you.

The scene changes one more time. You are now in the seat.

The interviewer asks, “Please state your name and your occupation.”

You smiled, “My name is Y/n L/n and I am a Formula 1 racer who drives for the Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 Team. I also DJ,” you shot finger guns at the camera and clicked you mouth, “Thanks Lando.”

“How was your first season in Formula 1. You obviously showed the world of what you could do.”

You nodded before continuing, “The season went better than I expected. To place third in the driver’s championship as a rookie? Unheard of.” You smirked. “Until now.”

The person behind the camera continued, “You were only 10 points away from Charles Leclerc. How does that make you feel?”

You cocked your head. “It feels wonderful. Charles had a really good season.” You leaned in as though to tell a secret. “If anything, don’t tell Charles or Max I said this, but Max and I would rather lose to Charles than anyone else.”

“And why is that?”

You deadpanned. “Well Charles is Lightning McQueen incarnate and Max’s emotional support rival. Who else would we want?” People laughed in the background.

“Now that you know you could win a championship…”

You cut her off, “Oh I’ve always known I could win a championship. But I also know that I was born to break records. And right now, I’m on a path to help Max break the 7 streak.”

“Ah yes, sorry. What would you do after winning a championship.” You hadn’t seen Max slip in.

“I think I’d pull a Nico Rosenburg. Ya know? Retire while I’m ahead.”

“You would not do that!” Max said behind the camera and you looked straight at him.

“Yes I would.”

“No you wouldn’t. Because you said you were born to break records. Well Kid, if I make a record championship, you need to be the one to break it.”

Oh my gosh, I loved how this chapter turned out. And it is officially the longest chapter I have written so far – 6,077 words. Right now, I have to write the chapter for the last race of F2 and you readers have to pretend that it lands on a weekend that the F1 drivers can attend.

Also! I am pleased to announce that the first few chapters of a new series will be out shortly! It is called “Besties for the Resties” and it’s how you got close with many of the drivers. Not all of them will have their own chapter and not all the drivers are being written about. So please be aware that this will not be going over 10 chapters!

Thank you to all my readers and Happy Thanksgiving!

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @leptitlu @alessioayla @badassturtle13 @kaaale @wcnorris @cool-ultra-nerd @hockeyboysarehot @agent-curt-mega @myxticmoon @cmleitora @sam-is-lost

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x driver!reader #max verstappen x reader #platonic grid x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #formula 1 x you #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #alex albon x reader #george russell x reader #lewis hamilton x reader

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areislol · 7 months

Text

The morning after

►— pairings. genshin men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. some of the characters get clingy really quickly.

►— synopsis. albedo created a machine where it would bring back their creator, who was stuck in another world, back to where they belong. but instead of bringing you here to them, it brought them to where you were.

►— a/n. RAGGHH i was having so much trouble just trying to figure out the title 😭 i hope you guys enjoy this 🩷 I’m very sorry for the lack of action or if it’s simple.. next chapter will be more fun for you guys I hope 🙏🏻

►— wordcount. 4.2k

recommended to listen to: needy - ariana grande or circles - post malone

The next morning, you awoke to Childe’s hand slapped over the side of your face, snoring quite loudly. Groaning, you pushed his hand away and yawned, opening your eyes groggily.

You managed to sit up on the bed and rubbed your eyes, looking around you could see multiple men standing around in your room, Thoma and Kazuha looking out your window, admiring the view, while the others were looking around your room and pointing at the unfamiliar objects lying about your floor and talking amongst one another about what it could be.

“Hey.. see that thing right there on the floor? Do you think that could be used to whack a Hilichurl?”

“… Itto I doubt something as small, petite and cute looking would be used to hit a Hilichurl..” Zhongli heaved a great sigh from Itto’s stupidity (he couldn’t say that though) and pinched his nose bridge from disappointment.

It was a pink, light wand with a red lollipop at the top with a lid covering it. It was candy… not a weapon you can use against Hilichurls.

You could feel your heart skip a beat because ?! Why were all of these guys in your room?! But after remembering what had happened last night, you calmed down.

Right.. that happened.

Suddenly, you felt Childe cling to your side, burying his head into your abdomen as his arms wrapped around your waist. “Mmm..”

You were too tired to even fuss about why he was being so close to you so you decided to just ignore him and his actions. While stretching your arms and yawning, everybody turned their head to look at you.

“Oh, uh.. good morning everybody?” You said, stopping mid-stretch, almost subconsciously shrinking from their gazes.

A collective “good morning” could be heard from everyone as Neuvillette and Cyno walked towards the edge of your bed and started to question if you slept well or not (you did because it was warm), complaining about how when they woke up they found Childe snuggling close to your side and being so clingy towards you.

(Why were they complaining? Easy answer, they were jealous is what. They would rather bury their heads in the sand than ever admit it.)

Nodding your head slowly, you smiled sheepishly and waved your hand at them. “It’s all good, don’t worry about Childe he’s just.. maybe he just likes to hug people?”

Cyno glared at Childe and let out a sigh before nodding his head. “Sure..”

Neuvillette offered his hand for you to take—giving you a gentle smile. “I’m glad you slept well, Y/n. Shall we prepare you breakfast?”

You took his hands and thought about his offer before nodding, offering him a grateful smile. “That would be nice.. but maybe once I’m done getting ready because I’m not sure if you guys are familiar with how things work.”

Neuvillette gave you a simple nod and once you hopped off the bed and let go of his hands you made your way to the bathroom, slipping on your slippers as Kaveh and Xiao with a few others followed you into your bathroom.

It wasn’t so different to theirs but it looked more.. modern for sure. “It looks so.. white and grey. Oh wow! What is this stuff on the wall..?”

Kaveh pointed to the strange object stuck on the wall. It was a toothbrush holder.

“Oh, that? That’s a toothbrush holder, it holds toothbrushes... I mainly use it for my friends if they ever come over.”

Kaveh and Gorou nod their head. “Strange, but unique. I like it!” You smiled at them before turning around and began to brush your teeth before washing your face, all the while they (Kaveh, Xiao, Kazuha and Kaeya) watched you do your thing.

It was a bit awkward, to tell the truth. While you were doing your morning routine they were either watching you or looking around your bathroom.

After finishing everything you needed to do in the bathroom, you bent down in front of the sink and opened the cabinet, grabbing a few packs of toothbrushes and ripping them open before handing them to Kaveh, Xiao, Kazuha and Kaeya.

“Here, use these. I’ll have to go out and buy the rest as well..” you sighed, thinking about how much it would cost.

Making sure they grabbed one, you helped him apply toothpaste on their toothbrush and left them to do their thing while you stepped out of the bathroom and groaned.

Sleeping with Childe and Xiao wasn’t a bad idea but they squeezed you tight through the night. Especially Childe, he just kept on clinging onto you and your arm was sort of sore.

As you stepped foot into your room, you realised that everybody was gone, they probably were in your living room, and you also realised that Thoma was making your bed. When he saw you just standing there eyeing him he smiled shyly.

“Y/n! I decided to make your bed.. as you noticed. How do you like it?” Thoma questioned, patting your pillow down before standing beside there looking like.. a maid.

You smiled at him nervously and thanked him, “well, you didn’t have to do that but thank you, it actually looks pretty nice and neat!”

There was no reason to lie, the bed looked nice and clean. Your sheets were tucked under your pillows and everything looked so smooth and clean.. he even put your plushies aside on the wall!!

You couldn’t help but smile even more as you noticed him leaving your plushies on your bed. But you were snapped out of your thoughts when Thoma then spoke.

“Would you like breakfast now?” You hummed and nodded your head and walked out of your room with Thoma trailing right behind you. And as you moved closer to your living room you could hear the chattering of everyone.

You didn’t know why but just hearing everybody talking and chuckling in your room made your body relax for some odd reason. It made you feel good, it felt as though the burdens were lifted from your shoulders, how weird.

As you made your way through your living room and into the kitchen, the others started to notice you and Thoma following behind you.

“Oh, Y/n! You’re finally here.” Heizou smiled, waving hello at you. You waved back at him and also included the others (even though they didn’t wave first.), smiling so tenderly and waving at them made their hearts flutter—feeling heat rushing to their cheeks.

“Mhm, I’ll make breakfast for you guys.. if there’s enough that is.” Everybody’s hearts nearly burst at your hospitality. Their creator.. offering to make them breakfast? Oh someone please catch them they might faint!

Aether jumped up from the couch and walked towards you and Thoma. “I’ll help!” He chirped, giving you and Thoma a warm smile to which you two returned. “Sure, thanks!”

As you three rummaged through the cabinets, trying to find anything to make breakfast—you eventually settled on pancakes (how did you have so many ingredients for 28 people? No clue.)

It was oddly comforting that you had people in your house let alone help you out with cooking. It felt nice nonetheless, to have company over, even if it was unexpected.

You let the others stare at your TV in awe, wondering what it was. “See that remote thing on the table? Yes, the one that’s black and has multiple colours on it, yup, press on the red one at the top left—yes! Good job, now uh watch whatever you want?”

You could hear the “oohs”’ and “aaahs” s of the men to which you chuckled softly. They acted like toddlers who just found something new in their life. It was adorable.

Breakfast was finally served after an hour or so, the voices of Itto and Childe could be heard thanking for breakfast being served now as they were starving.

“Oh finally!! I’ve been waiting for years for breakfast!” Childe groaned, almost drooling at the sight of the pancakes. “My stomach was growling so loudly..” Itto agreed.

“We could hear.” Could be heard from Dainsleif, Ayato and Capitano. They seemed to be fed up with him and his antics (so was everybody else.)

Everybody began to sit down in the most random spots, well, anywhere they could sit. Your table could only accompany only 8 people so the rest sat down near your coffee table in front of the TV and some eating at your desk.

They also made sure to sit away from people they didn’t want to sit next to. Diluc with the fatui (Capitano, Childe, Dottore and Pierro.), Wanderer from literally everyone else (he sat himself down in the corner like a little child), and Dainsleif from the archons—Zhongli and Venti.

It was a funny sight, to say the least, but, they had to do what they had to do, in this case—eat your pancakes.

As you and Thoma set down the plates and drizzled maple syrup on them, everybody said their thanks and picked up their utensils before digging in, some even moaning from how amazing it tasted.

“Enjoy your pancakes!” You happily said before standing behind the kitchen counter munching on your own pancakes beside Thoma. “Mhm.. it tastes so good! You and Aether are such good cooks!”

For Thoma hear you praise him and Aether made his cheeks flush red. He mumbled that it was “no problem” and quickly stuffed more pancakes into his mouth to hide his embarrassment, unbeknownst to the jealous glares coming from different directions of the room at him.

While you were still chewing and eating your pancakes, you were unaware of Ayato walking towards you and setting himself beside you.

“Y/n-“ Ayato began before you cut him off with a horrified yell. Turning to face Ayato you placed your hand on your chest and let out a sigh, everybody turned to look at you, their pancakes still half in their mouth as they stopped mid-eating.

“Ayato! You scared me..” you breathed, Ayato frowned and held his hand over his heart. “I didn’t mean to scare you, dear.. are you okay?”

You nodded your head and sighed. “It’s all good Ayato, I know you didn’t mean to.” You replied, giving him a reassuring smile to make sure he doesn’t feel bad, but he was already so.

“Did you need anything though? You must’ve come here for a reason..” Ayato nodded before averting eye contact with you, a noticeable pink blush appearing on his cheek.

He held his fist to his lips and cleared his throat. “Well.. this is embarrassing.. but I wanted to..” he stopped mid-sentence and looked back at you with a flustered face.

“Feed you.”

You stared at Ayato blankly, confused about whether or not you should be feeling happy or creeped out.. “wai- feed me?” Ayato nods. “Must I reiterate?”

Shaking your head “no” you looked down at your plate with pancakes, there was only a few left. Wanderer, Cyno, Dottore and Childe could feel their eyes twitching.

The sound of your fork clinking down onto the plate was heard and then your voice. “W-well.. I guess i don’t mind? I mean it’s a bit odd yes but why not? I haven’t been fed since I was a toddler.” You hummed.

Ayato’s lips curve upwards into a soft smile as he happily picked up your fork and stuck it in the cut pancake before placing his palm under your chin.

“Say aaaah~” You opened your mouth and said “aaaah” before chewing on the pancake, humming happily. Ayato slid the fork out of your mouth and smiled fondly at you. You were so adorable.

Thoma peeked his head out to look at Ayato feeding you, he was jealous. Why hadn’t he thought of feeling you before? It was too late now. The others stared at he fed you, suddenly a horde of men came running behind Ayato and chiming in, saying that they wanted to feed you too.

Goodness.. but it was fun to see them all fight to feed you, you had never gotten so much attention before so this was something and, to your shame, you enjoyed it.

Unfortunately, they could not take turns to feed you as that would be time consuming. They all went back to their spots and finished eating their food while sulking. After everyone had finished their food they set it inside your sink, Thoma offered to clean them and you thanked him.

You felt bad for Thoma just cleaning the dishes by himself but even when you offered to help him he shushed you with his finger pressed against your lips and told you it would be okay.

To even lay a finger on their grace without their consent was simply unforgiving. But for some reason being by your side made them so comfortable, as if you had been their friends since childhood. Was this the many affects you had on them?

After all of the dishes were washed and Thoma joined you all in the living room, you were sitting down on the couch sandwiched between Cyno and Al-haitham. Thoma noticed how majority of them looked tense and irritated, he eyed them down before seating himself down on the floor beside the others.

What Thoma had missed (somewhat as he could still hear the commotion from the other side) was everyone fighting to sit next to you. They were threatening each other and the taller and stronger men would be holding the smaller men, laughing at them.

Like how Capitano was holding Wanderer in his hand, chuckling as he found Wanderer spitting insults and threats at his face, funny. Which he did not like at all.

And in all honestly they could’ve started a war and use their powers if not for the fact that Childe had pointed out that Cyno and Al-haitham had sat themselves down by your side without them noticing.

Before anyone could’ve gotten hurt or broke anything in your house you calmed them down, telling them in a stern voice that if they broke anything you would never talk to them ever again, and it worked because they were all scared of that happening so they sat down obediently.

Wanderer and Lyney sat beside your legs and somewhat hugged them, almost scared that if they did you would scold them or find them creepy (they just wanted to be by your side).

“Hm.. what should we watch? Is there anything in particular you guys enjoy?” You hummed, skimming through Netflix, trying to find a movie for you guys to enjoy and bond over.

But there was a problem. Everybody had their preferences, some wanted horror while the others furiously shake their heads no. Some wanted rom-com but the others immediately shook their heads no.

“Oooh how about some action and adventure? Like Ant-man?” You said, pressing on the Ant-man movies as they read out the summary.

Everybody agreed on that movie and you weren’t sure if they agreed because you chose it or what.. they did choose it because you wanted it.

Not only that but it also sounded interesting. “Ant-man.. that sounds interesting! Why does he have to be an ant..? Why not a tiger or something?” Gorou questioned, looking up at you as he cocked his head to the side.

God.. he was so adorable!! Even if he didn’t mean to do the puppy-dog eyes, he still did them and he looked so squishable!

“Well I have no clue, but it sounds interesting doesn’t it? That’s why we should watch it!” The others surrounding you hummed in agreement. Standing up you walked towards the wall.

“Where are you going?”

“Turning off the lights to get into the mood.”

After turning off the lights Itto ooh’ed and got all giddy, to which wanderer gave the stank eye to him. You plopped down beside Cyno and Al-haitham and pressed the play button on the remote and set it down on the table in front of you.

During the movie there were tons of reactions, some were laughing from the comedic lines, some were nonchalant and unbothered by everything but they would sit up and lean forward a bit whenever the action would come on.

Some even teared up or straight out sobbed during the sad scenes (ahem you and Kaveh were crying and he just wanted to cling onto you crying but he was so far apart, Cyno and Al-haitham were unsure whether or not to comfort you but you weren’t in your sad feels just.. very emotional over the mother and daughter scene but they still pat you on your head and offered you tissues ahem ahem) while Xiao teared up a little bit but swiftly wiped it away before Zhongli could tease him.

Al-haitham, Dainsleif, Capitano, Pantalone and Diluc were nonchalant during the movie, only moving to get up to get more snacks. Lyney, Childe, Itto and Gorou were somewhat commenting on the movie and only got a smack from Dainsleif when they got loud.

Ayato, Kaeya, Kazuha and Freminet were all very invested in the story, plot and action. Even wincing and laughing when the characters did so too.

Baizhu was coughing every now and then with Neuvillette offering him water to drink to soothe his throat. Unfortunately many did not like how the dialogue would be interrupted by Baizhu’s coughing but before they could yell at him to shush, you would tell them to be quiet and that it wasn’t his fault—Baizhu was grateful for you and almost started to cough even more loudly from gratitude.

Aether, Heizou and Albedo were super into the action and fighting scenes. Occasionally scolding the characters in their head and planning what they would’ve done.

Venti asked you if you had any wine to offer him, you shook your head no telling him that you didn’t drink. Zhongli and Neuvillette’s urge to slap Venti was large but they thankfully restrained themselves.

Wriothesley was the only one that was watching everything going down, and always missing the part that was big in the plot. Reason why? He was watching you in awe of course, as your eyes widened and your mouth formed an “O” at an intense fighting scene or how you gasp or yelp at a jump scare.

But to tell the truth everybody was watching you like how Wriothesley was watching you.

And after one movie after another, you grabbed your phone and looked at the time, thinking you were going to see maybe 1 pm or somewhere in the afternoon, it read 8 pm.

“Already? How quick..” you mumbled under your breath, Cyno sneaked in a glance at your phone and realised it was already 8.

“Should we end the movies now? I mean I think everybody is getting a little tired now..” Cyno states, you peep your head forward and look at everybody on the floor and around you, they did seem sleepy.

“Mhm, okay, I’ll go get the guest bedroom ready and more mattresses.” You got up from the couch and began to get everything. “I’ll put everything away!” Thoma chimed in, standing up as well before putting everybody’s snacks and drinks away.

Cyno and Al-haitham got up, followed by Wanderer and Kaveh, and soon everybody got up, stretching their arms and yawning. “Geez, we watched for so long..” Childe mumbled, blinking his eyes tiredly at the TV.

Soon, Al-haitham began to walk towards your room hoping to find you there to which he did. “Y/n. Do you need any help?”

You turned around and smiled at Al-haitham sleepily. “Sure, I think I need a little help..” you mutter, holding the matter but higher to indicate you needed help with settling everything down.

Al-haitham nodded and walked towards you, grabbing the mattress and setting it down before grabbing the pillows and blanket, placing them on the mattress before glancing at you.

You seemed so tired after watching so many movies in the dark, it’s a wonder how you didn’t manage to fall asleep. Al-haitham sighs.

“Here, let me do everything okay? You get ready for bed and rest, alright?”

You glance up at him as he was much taller than you, you blink at him before furrowing your brows. “You sure? You don’t need any help at all?” Al-haitham shakes his head.

“Well alright then, thank you!” Smiling, you move towards your bathroom and as you stepped foot inside you closed the door shut.

While you were getting ready for bed, Al-haitham was making sure there were enough mattresses for everybody while keeping sure in mind that there was a guest bedroom as well.

You finished getting ready and opened the door, leaving the bathroom and found two mattresses down on the floor that could at least have two people on them. Al-haitham was truly kind and you wanted to reward him for doing something he didn’t have to do.

“You’re done? Well I finished everything so I’ll go call them to come inside. I’ll make sure they don’t make a fuss over who sleeps with you and sleeps on the floor.”

As Al-haitham was about to leave you grab ahold of his muscular arm. You didn’t expect it to be so muscular despite your eyes ogling at it since his release and arrival at your place.

“U-uhm, if you want.. since you’ve helped me how about you sleep in my bed? You don’t have to say yes! I just want to do something in return for you helping me.. I mean you really didn’t have to.”

Al-haitham stared down at you as you continued to hold onto his arm only to release your grip when you realise he wasn’t responding. “Oh, whoops my bad.”

You almost take his silence as a no when he speaks abruptly. “I.. thank you, I’ll take the offer, thank you again.” He replied softly, his eyes focused on you before averting eye contact and clearing his throat.

“I-I’ll Go get them now.” He mumbles, walking off into the living room to go grab them. You sighed and flopped down onto your neatly made bed.

All you were wearing was a tank top and shorts, it was what you normally wore and now that you were sharing a house with men it made you feel somewhat insecure, but still, the best thing in the world was feeling your bare skin touching the cold sheets.

You soon covered yourself with the covers and made yourself comfortable, grabbing one of your plushies and cuddling it, waiting for the men to come flooding in your room.

When are they going to com..

Just as you thought about them, they came through the door like a horde, all fighting over who was going to sleep next to you before Al-haitham stopped them from trampling over the mattresses with his hands like it was nothing.

“One at a time. And Y/n already said I was going to be sleeping next to her.” He said, almost in a smug tone like he was proud of you choosing him and decided to show it off.

“Okay and? There’s still one more slot!” Childe scoffed before Wanderer groaned. “Childe you literally slept with Y/n yesterday you ginger-“ “watch your mouth you purple mushroom head-“

Al-haitham sighed deeply and walked towards your bed, watching as you peeped your head to the side to see Childe and Wanderer yell insults at one another.

“Don’t mind those idiots.” Al-haitham states bluntly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Kazuha, Aether, Heizou and Ayato makes their way around everybody and begins to make themselves comfortable and take off a few of their article of clothings before lying down on the mattresses.

Finally, everybody sorted themselves out and figured out where they would sleep. With you blind choosing whoever would be the other people to sleep next to you which was Dainsleif.

Kaveh, Baizhu, Itto, Wanderer and the rest would be sleeping in the guest room much to their sadness. While Kazuha, Aether, Heizou, Ayato, Zhongli, and all that weren’t sleeping in the guest bedroom made their way to each mattress.

Everybody settled themselves on the mattresses and some even turned on the fan as they complained about it being too “hot”.

Dainsleif climbed onto the bed and took off his cape and a few other things. Al-haitham removed the covers and covered himself with the blanket.

You glanced over at Dainsleif and raised your brows. “I don’t want to be rude but aren’t you going to take off your mask?”

Dainsleif looks over at you before smiling softly, “well of course, I’ll remove it later on don’t worry. Just try and get some rest okay?” You hummed and sank down into the bed, sighing in content from being surrounded by the warmth of two very handsome men.

It’s silent and dark with only the sound of the softly humming fan. Everybody was awake and you knew it. You could hear the soft breathing of Al-haitham and Dainsleif coming from both sides of you. Soon, a thought and realisation pops in your mind.

“Wait, you guys didn’t go shower yet.. right?”

“…. Yeah..”

You sighed, knowing that you would probably have to go shopping tomorrow for clothes and sanitary products aaaand probably go broke.

> ✧ part three

note: THIS TOOK ME LIKE A COUPLE HOURS TO WRITE?? ALSO SPARE ME WITH ANYTHING RELATED TO GRAMMAR AND SPELLING I PROOF READ IT BUT AT THE SAME TIME I WAS TIRED SO.. ALSO. Im glad that you guys are enjoying this series so much 😭😭 honestly didn’t expect so many liking this so thank you guys so much!! I hope I continue to reach your expectations.

(also guys drop some suggestions or scenarios in my inbox that I could possibly add to the next chapters!)

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchijii @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @goldenglow149 @rhwm @urlocalheizousimp @hex-vx @saltylovetale @backintomykpopphaseagain @toramune @oreo-ren @serenity-loves-red @flooofity @minteasketches @amaizverydum @lovelive-animequeen1029 @roseapov @yuraasia @chellazhef @fulldoves @kateybuggi @wanderingconstellations (if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter!)

if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few

liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

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neteyamsilly · 1 year

Text

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 2

summary ;; Your burning determination to prove your father wrong and Jake's wish to teach you a lesson both end up in a pyrrhic victory. PART 1 | PART 3 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; im speechlessly overwhelmed at the sheer amount of love you guys showed me these past couple of days. like. literally never had something like this happen to me before. i got too excited to finish this chapter to give back to yall, there was an attempt to proofread but... i hope it's not too bad, please enjoy! as always, if you see any mistakes, im sorry!

The path further into the floating mountains was all the worse to navigate thanks to the lack of light, the only useful guides you had were the faintly flickering bioluminescent lights from the forest deep below. The branches twisting around each other to create a naturally built bridge from mountain to mountain benefited from this, contrasting as a clear obscured line to your eyes against the glow underneath.

The easiest part of your journey, in hindsight, was just skipping along this line.

You weren’t exactly happy about this.

The more you left behind, the more you were freaked out that Neteyam or anyone else was onto your intentions already and hot on your trail right this moment. Imagining father making a beeline to you in the air with Bob, a cruel, merciless whistling arrow, made you all jittery and almost puking kind of nervous, pulling at the depths of your stomach.

Your rationality told you that it was a half an hour walk to your spot from the tent, and Neteyam would be hurrying the more he thought he wasn’t able to catch up with you along the way, so you had around twenty minutes until the whole family was panicking and raising the clan to look for you.

Tuk had gone missing once thanks to some hide and seek game with Lo’ak (she’d hidden so well and was waiting for her siblings to find her already, blindly sticking to the game for an entire day, not out of stubbornness but childish purity), and this was exactly what had gone down —

the resentful part of you questioned if father thinks of you highly enough to resort to that.

If something happened to you, he would maybe urge your brothers to search for you for a while, and drop it then — leaving you to your own devices happily.

Maybe.

Were you even worth it in his eyes for a search party? You wondered if he cared enough that you disappeared.

But that was a stupid, childish thought you knew you fantasized about a lot — perhaps this was why he’d called you immature. This was no mindset for a strong, independent, confident hunter. The thought father was right, even a miniscule bit was bitter on your tongue, worse than what he called black coffee.

Disappearing so you’d find out just how much he cared was unfair to mom, for one.

She had lost so much in such a short amount of time, the stories she sang poignantly about were hard to listen to without tearing up. Her home. The trees of voices, all the lost ancestors. Her father. Uncle Tsu’tey. Her first ikran, Seze. Loss upon loss you think there’d be nothing left to give anymore, but sky people’s fire was always hungry, always willing to waste more to grow bigger.

You wouldn’t forgive yourself for making her cry in your pursuit to punish father. Never.

You weren’t a child.

Just wanted to be one, sometimes.

Wanted father to babytalk you, pet your head longer than a passing touch as he walked away hurriedly to attend to other matters, make beads for your braids the way he always did from pretty stones he found on ponds, carve you little trinkets when you graciously had to give up your toys to Lo’ak and Kiri’s greed.

Your neck piece was all them in fact, he’d see it if he ever paid enough attention, or perhaps it was all insignificant to him, five kids meant countless belongings for each individual child had been passed down from his hands, it would be a miracle for father to recognize you still wore his clumsy creations. But again, it had been too long since he’d even looked at you affectionately, he wouldn’t See.

He’d transferred those habits entirely to Neteyam at one point in time.

Your older brother would always ruffle Lo’ak’s hair and tease him the way father used to, comfort him in his own playful way, and even though the younger looked discontent at being babied, you knew he was happy Neteyam was quite literally his shadow to look after him through tough times — including shielding from father’s line of fire. In return, he was suffering from being a foil to the older son, you understood the struggle because you were going through the same comparison, you just weren’t obsessed with catching and living up to father as much as Lo’ak did.

Win some, lose some, I guess.

Plus, Neteyam was trembling under the massive planet-weight pressure, he had to set the standard, he had to live up to the older brother title. He was becoming more of a father figure to Tuk as days passed and the Olo’eyktan became more transparent from his family’s life as a dad to five.

Besides, Lo’ak made trouble enough for two people to go around that you felt bad for your big brother, Kiri was thankfully more mellow (despite frequently hanging out together with him and Spider) compared to him that Neteyam could breathe, not having to divide his attention.

You were in awe of her about how disconnected she was from all the changing dynamics. She had her own problems you could never understand, more spiritual than your grandmother, and ever the ethereal soul who you thought would disappear into Eywa if flesh wasn’t holding her down to Eywa’eveng.

You were the teeniest, tiniest bit jealous of her (and Tuk) holding the softer sides of father, the boys thought he was deliberately softer because they were girls — but you were also a girl, so why weren’t you allowed in?

Well, thanks to that, you’d gotten closer with Neteyam and known him better after the whole clan had settled on High Camp, so it wasn’t all that bad. You could badmouth father all day long sitting on some rock and make him laugh abashedly, guilty that he was smiling along with the trashing of the father’s name he respected so much — it was therapy, as Norm had taught humans frequently sought back on earth. It got you trying some things with Neteyam, becoming more of a companion and ranting buddy for him who he could be honest and open with, so that he didn’t have to worry about taking up a larger role in your life to fill father’s missing presence. You were concerned about him more than he could be concerned about you.

That got you contemplating if father had noticed how comfortable his two oldest children were with each other that it was always Neteyam who he sent after you. A girl could dream, no? For one moment, it wasn’t because it was Neteyam’s responsibility, but because father was paying attention to how his kids got along.

The image of him pushed you to be frantically fast to reach your destination as the fear returned with might. If he caught you right now when you had no ikran to prove him wrong, the punishment he was sure to give would be way more humiliating, you at least wanted something in your name to taunt him with if you were going down anyways.

A smile crept up your face at imagining him discombobulated and speechless, unable to pick out one thing that you did wrong.

The carelessness that came with your speed combined with how dark it was to see where to clutch and put your feet on caused you to slip up countless times when climbing, the sharp rocks scraping the insides of your palms and insides of your forearms, lifting your skin up. What you cared about more than the pain was that the blood was now tracking material for your family to sniff you out — you couldn’t exactly wipe the rocks clean, so you carried on with a hammering heart, more afraid of father ruining your perfect moment than whatever ikran that would soon be going straight for your throat.

At least you were able to wash the blood off your hands in the waterfall.

Downside? You couldn’t see shit. With your bare back flushed straight to the wall of rock and your feet feeling out the thin edge, the shrill cry of ikrans and the roaring of water was about to overwhelm your senses too much to pay attention —

and you slipped.

The shriek that ripped out of you at the sensation of falling and the drop of your stomach alone almost made you pass out, and for a split second it was a good thing that you wouldn’t feel the moment you died, but your body, once again, was one step ahead of you, it twisted in the air the last second and your hands gripped the ledge.

The wet rock and your blood made all that your life was hanging on slippery as you dangled into the abyss, swaying with the strong winds at this height.

You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline or the nervousness, but something made you laugh out loud, and the bubbling laughter continued until you were able to pull yourself up safely at the ikran rookery, finally.

Looking around like a fish out of water, how you hadn’t cracked your skull open shooting down to the forest below was a total miracle.

You’d made it?

No one was there to witness what you just pulled off in total darkness. Your whole body was shaking, and you weren’t even chosen by an ikran yet. This was happening. Shit. This was totally happening!

Your excited and terrified, “Hell yeah!” went unheard apart from your aerial crowd.

But.

One among them answered your holler with its own that cut into the night like a battle horn. It was the closest one to you that was apparently watching you the whole time, starting to roar at you and twitching on its feet, shadow in the night informing you of its movements.

You’d seen from Neteyam and Lo’ak’s iknimayas that you only had a few seconds to pull your shit together until it attacked, this was meant to be dangerous, serious, you could end up as a late night snack to them if things went wrong, but you couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear that it had chosen you.

You were chosen.

It wanted you as its rider.

If only father could see you now. The sensation of being the one — being special was unmatched. Now you could somehow get the fraction of the high he must have felt as Toruk Makto.

The, “Let’s fucking go!” that left you kept echoing into the night as you lunged at it, dodging to the left when it snapped at your head, hooking one arm around the ikran’s slender neck and clamping your legs around it the moment it started thrashing around wildly.

You didn’t know why father had made a big deal out of it. You formed tsaheylu in no time, breaking Neteyam’s record — and you didn’t even have the rope to hoop around its neck and jaw.

Firstborn daughter excellence.

Confidence restored and triumphing wildly to the pulse of your heart, the flickering smile on your face in wonder turned into a full-fledged smirk. At that moment, nothing mattered. It was just you and your victory. Proving father wrong.

Feeling the ikran’s lifeforce through the bond, a shiver went down your back as his beady eye looked up at you, pupil shrinking and expanding rapidly while you both took a minute to catch your breaths after the fierce wrestling.

“Gotcha,” you panted. “You’re mine now.”

The adrenaline made everything sparkle and shine, your spirits soaring high and unbothered about literally anything else in the world, and for one glorious moment, lost in the memories of your brothers’ iknimayas boasting with cheers from the clan and sometimes encouraging, sometimes fearful screams of your parents, your spirit sought them out to be soaked in the same pride — forgetting that it was night and nobody was there to celebrate you.

You were all alone.

The smile dropped from your face and crashed down like paper thin porcelain upon the slightest movement.

Right.

You’d forgotten you were doing this out of spite. It snuffed every twinkle of magic away from the previously shimmering milestone of your life.

Your ikran felt the crushing disappointment through your connection and chirped at you, almost like an excited sibling pulling on your arm to show you something, weirdly comforting. Mom’s ikran was a spitfire, but also nurturing — this one felt different somehow, you felt him bouncing from wall to wall in your head, hyperactive and cheerful.

Flying! He wanted to fly!

The first flight sealed the bond, after all.

You weren’t alone even if none of your family members were here to share the joy — you had your new buddy. And the drop of gravity was thrilling this time, not the terrifying chaos that had your asshole shriveling up as it was when you’d missed your step.

The flights with mom were something you looked forward to, drying up in frequency as you aged, you’d missed the wind on your body and the greenery dancing below as you maneuvered in the air — but mom reserved nighttime rides for father only, and after the move to High Camp, the skimpering chance you could get your way if you begged cutely enough was gone too. You’d never flown at night.

The sight was out of this world. The stars leaving a glowing trail above you, the forest pulsing with faint purple, green and blue lights underneath, everything was elevated in beauty because darkness let them shine.

You made loops in the air with your ikran, got as high in the air as you could before your breath thinned, and scraped at the tips of trees before shooting up again, all the while laughter you’ve never screamed before bubbled out of you.

And you were all alone. There was no mom to gleefully taunt your ikran with hers to get both of you dancing in the air. There was no father to watch on with a small smile he was fighting. There was no Neteyam to stop you from dipping too close to the ground, and no Lo’ak to challenge you to get closer to race with him — no Kiri to complain how all of you were being so childish, how stupid this was all the while she was the worst of you all, instigating all the chaos.

No Tuk in your mom’s lap whining about you guys leaving her off the fun.

Instead, there was the scent of a bogey in the air, snapping you out of the haze of sorrow.

When had you ventured out further into unprotected territory?

Linked with your thought process, the ikran stopped advancing forward and started beating his wings downward to stay unmoving, you observed the surroundings to get a better feeling of where you were, and noticed this was around the old shack, artificial lights were gliding between the leaves and branches that obscured your view of just who was roaming the grounds at night, definitely not a natural part of the forest’s flora.

Father’s voice materialized in your head, drilled into you and your siblings’ heads over and over again. If you come across any threat at all, do not engage, fall back and inform me. Got it? You call for me first.

And that split second of being afraid was your death sentence — that father would be so angry at you for your ignorance, amateurism, carelessness and idiocy that he could throw you out of the family for almost leading the demons to base simply by being there that they could figure out what direction you’d come from. That moment of weakness was enough for someone to snipe you out, and get you falling down from your ikran straight into the forest below, the cries of your new friend falling silent on your ears as you did your best to hug giant leaves to cushion your fall to the best of your ability. .

Barely any time was left for you to shake the disorienting motion sickness off, you couldn’t even attempt to run into the accepting, protective hands of the forest before whoever just shot at you was onto you, harshly gripping your arms and raising you up.

Father’s gonna be so mad if he finds out. Shit, I gotta get out of this.

But… Avatars? In full camo, armored, even. You hadn’t heard of this from anybody in camp!

“Damn! Didn’t actually think you’d be able to land the shot from all of that tree, man! Up-top!”

Two of them high-fived, you were actually going to be sick.

Thumb between his belt and stomach, another Avatar strutted towards you. The saunter and confidence meant that he was their leader. “Now, now… What do we have here?”

“A native.” You were being pushed down on your knees, one hand being grabbed and shown like a trophy. Just how many were there? You couldn't calm yourself enough to focus! “Four fingers.”

The speaker this time was a woman. “How unusual. Those monkeys don’t leave their coven at night.”

“Where were you flying, little bird?” The leader, a sleazy smirk on his face, leaned down to take a good look at you. “Leading away from the nest, perhaps?”

“She don’t understand, Colonel, don’t bother. Ya think Sully could ever manage teaching one word of English to those?”

“Watch how she learns in three seconds.” He yanked on your queue so hard you saw white light in this hour of darkness — and when your vision came back, a screen with your father’s face was being shoved to your face. “Jake Sully. Toruc Mactoe. Where is he?”

You screamed when he pulled with increasing strength, keeping up with the act you didn’t understand. And the state of pain and terror massively helped, contributing to you looking frantic and lost, only knowing that you were being zapped to your core.

“Seems like I don’t need to ask you.” His fingers snapped your head back to get a good look at your earpiece, late to notice you had it on at all because of the dark. “Can directly ask the man himself.”

All you could form to think was, ‘Father’s gonna kill me for this. He’s actually gonna kill me this time.’

You weren't terrified of what the Avatars would do to you. You were afraid of him.

One empty shell from the reloaded machine gun flew away, tinkling hollow when it fell down, and rolled until it stopped in a small pool of water that had formed on the jagged ground of the cave systems. In the scarlet and orange glow of the campfire he’d haphazardly put together right outside of their home out of impatience after Neytiri had basically thrown him out, Jake almost mistook the liquid for blood.

An ominous cloud of dread settled on his shoulders, a paranoia every father tended to go through.

“Big Brother, this is Devil Dog. State your status, over.”

Neteyam didn’t miss a beat to answer, thankfully. “Devil Dog, this is Big Brother. I’m still en route to Foxcove, over.”

“How much longer?”

“Ten minutes at best, sir. Over.”

What he wanted to say was how come he hadn’t met you halfway, but it was empty talk. No need to stress the boy out. “Devil Dog signing out.”

This girl was half the reason for the wrinkles on his forehead, Jesus Christ. He was basically waiting you out like a father sitting in the dark to ambush his daughter who had snuck out at night, for that single glorious moment of yeah that’s right, you got caught, after the light would come on to ruin that moment of relief of successfully making it back in.

His mate had scolded him to be nice and understanding, a Marine was anything but, the closest he could compromise was not being as mean to you than he had to be. Sassing, “So how was your Iknimaya?” like he planned was out the window — Neytiri was spot-on to say the girl would simply give the same mean energy right back at him, and that could only mean another erupting volcano of a fight and a good night’s sleep ruined for him, overthinking where he went wrong and how else he could have salvaged the situation.

He’d just make you tend to the ikrans for a week for some patience practice, cleaning shit for hours on a daily basis would certainly throw the temporary whim of the rite of passage hyperfixation out of your system. The possibility of you shouting you hated him was unavoidable, but Jake had to get his point across, no matter how terribly it nauseated him to hear something like that from his child.

It was strange to remember he couldn’t care less for what people thought of him in the past. Some shithead he wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about hated Jake’s guts? Good. He was living in their head rent free, it was fun even — Neytiri too, Jake absolutely enjoyed her hating game at first.

Being legitimately resented by his very own child, though, was a heartbreak he didn’t expect to hurt him the way it did, knocking air off his lungs the first time he heard it. A burning stab right in his heart that wouldn’t go away until he had to hear it for himself you hadn’t meant any of what you said.

Because that said hate actually stemmed from hurt Jake must have inflicted. Because you could actually despise him, and never allow him to reconnect with you again if he could ever manage to garner the courage to reach out to you — a mightier challenge than hunting Toruk in the sense it actually scared him.

His teenage daughter. Scared him.

Jake didn’t know what to do about it, he couldn’t even show what exactly this made him feel, too ashamed and proud for it in the first place.

The growing distance between you and him was an uneasy, frightened bird he tried to shush and calm in his heart in favor of other pressing matters that drilled small holes in the depths of his stomach, and over time, those little holes had fused together to create one big pit with greater gravitational pull than the sun — until Jake didn’t know how to stitch them back together anymore.

He told himself he would talk to you later, for sure. The morning after every argument, every fight, every jab from you he snapped at he would try to make amends for, definitely.

And then he didn’t.

“What is this, are you palulukan ambushing prey? I told you to make up with her, not prepare for hunting.”

Jake shook his head, dropping the machine gun back inside the crate. The warmed metal was some sort of consolation to his nerves. Marine habit. Always felt safer with a gun near. (Or was it the American in him?) “Neytiri,” he acknowledged, bobbing his head. “I’m just passing time.”

“What do you think will happen when she comes back and sees you waiting for her like this?”

Ah, like the old times when Jake couldn’t do one thing right in her eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” he said playfully, but with no mirth behind it, closing the crate with a muffled thunk. With nothing to do with them, one elbow went to his knee and the other hand’s fingers started a rhythm on the lid he’d just shut.

His mate’s hand gingerly came down on his shoulder, kneading the nerves. “Just talk to her, Ma’Jake.”

“I don’t know how to,” he admitted, he covered her fingers on her shoulder with his, and she immediately held his hand back. “Don’t know what to even tell her.” He gave an exhale from the deeper, tired parts of his soul, gazing at the path leading away from their tent. “With Neteyam and Lo’ak, it’s easy. I tell ‘em what to do and they—”

Neytiri took a seat next to him, gathering their hands together. “Suffer just the same.” Jake was about to brush her off, but she didn’t relent. “What you’re doing is hurting them.”

This now was about all of their children rather than you, specifically. Neytiri was trying to get him to see the bigger picture first before moving to cover what he did wrong with each child of his, they had had this conversation countless times before.

Here we go again, Jake thought.

“Doesn’t matter if that’s what it takes to keep them safe.”

“Does it?” Neytiri leaned in, and calmness washed over him despite the disturbing nature of what she was saying. “Does it keep them safe? Or push them to act out more, get in worse situations?”

He grimaced. “I have to—”

“You feel like you have to.” His mate shook their clasped hands, rattling his bones. “I keep my children safe with trust and honesty. Transparence, Ma’Jake. So that they listen to me when I mean it because they See me. You shut them out.” Her lips bared to show her pearly teeth as she was practically beseeching him. “You don’t get your children’s trust by treating them like a squad.”

“They trust me plenty.”

“They trust Olo’eyktan. Toruk Makto. What about their father?”

“I make sure they’re safe.” Neytiri dropped his hands with an agitated snarl, she thought they were back at the beginning again, he couldn’t make her truly understand no matter what he did. He poured his heart out through their tsaheylu everytime, but her values and beliefs were wired so differently from his at the end of the day. “I make sure they stay where I want them to stay for their own good.” Jake shook his head, his voice soft, hushed. No force behind it when Neytiri was heated in return. “One day they’ll understand.”

“They won’t if you never tell them.”

“Tell them what?” Jake asked. “That I’m being harsh on them to prepare them for war? You think they’ll take it seriously after this?”

“Na’vi were in war long before you. There will be wars after you. No parent sullied his child’s happiness for the price of becoming a warrior. You still don’t get our ways even after all these years.”

“The sky people’s way,” Jake emphasized with his arms. “I have to teach them how they think, what they go through, so they know what they’ll be facing, okay? I can’t simply teach them by telling them.”

“You’re deluding yourself, Jake. Contradicting.” Neytiri was gentle in her cruelty, the flickering flames burned less than her amber eyes. “Tuk and Kiri are getting none of this. I know your heart isn’t allowing you. Why can’t you do the same for your other children?”

Because he had gone too far already with the older three.

Trial and error.

He couldn’t take back the things he did and say back — and quite honestly? Jake was being pulled from all sides to sit down and rethink his parenting. All he thought anymore was how to protect his family, frequent nightmares of losing his children in gruesome ways were haunting his every step.

A father protects his children, that’s what gives him meaning.

Jake had his own desperate ways to do so.

He opened his mouth to say something back, anything, but was interrupted by the communication line coming on. “Dad.”

Jake immediately knew something was wrong, body sitting ramrod straight. If the frantic breathing and barely controlled voice wasn’t any indication of it, his eldest’s behavior was. Neteyam didn’t slip up in the codenames like Lo’ak did, dropped all formalities only when he was borderline panicking.

“Dad. I’m sorry, dad, sir, I can’t find her, dad, I’ve looked everywhere around here, I thought maybe she was hiding underwater, behind rocks—but I can’t, I can’t—.”

“Slow down.” Jake could barely contain his own panic rising from the state his son was in. The boy wasn’t able to see it, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in as if Neteyam was right in front of him, and started gesturing with his hand. “Slow down, son.”

“Dad—”

Jake tsk-ed. “Neteyam, slow. Slow.”

Neytiri took his elbow. “What is it?”

He told her to wait with his gaze, and turned his attention back to Neteyam. This could only mean one thing, he was praying to be wrong — needed clarification. “Now tell me calmer. What’s going on?”

“She’s never been here. She never came here in the first place. There’s no sign of her. No trace. I’ve tracked.”

Jake’s instant response was fear. Domineering, ice-cold, cutting fear. Bodily and emotionally both. You were clockwork, similar to him in having unchanging routines and patterns. Angry? Went for a walk. Depressed? No talking to anyone until it passed. Happy? Wanted to go to the forest to spend time with your siblings and always craved sweet fruit. Didn’t want to be around anyone? Hid in the little bioluminescent cove with a pond two little mountains away, always. Always.

Neytiri sensed this, observing the change of demeanor in him.“Ma’Jake?”

“Okay, son.” He seized back control. One missing child was enough. “Stay right there and don’t move. I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Jake,” Neytiri hissed finally, at the end of her ropes.

“She didn’t go to the cove,” he said, face icy neutral as always, but his eyes showed dizzying concern. Neytiri put a hand on her mouth as Jake wasted no time in changing channels. “Night Owl, this is Devil Dog. Come in.” He couldn’t even wait two seconds before trying again. “Night Owl, what is your status? Where are you?”

Silence.

The more fear dug deeper into his skin, the more his anger and annoyance soared up, his tail was whipping the air erratically, the finger on the earpiece could send the metal right into his brain with how hard he was pressing on it. “I know you can hear me. This is no time for playing games. You know what you did to your brother? Do you know how panicked he was, not being able to find you—”

Then Jake remembered what Neytiri advised, he didn’t change strategies because she was right next to him to dig his eyes out, but because his heart was picking up its pace by the second. “Tell me where you are, I’ll leave you alone, I promise, alright? If you’re somewhere open, get to safety, I’m only asking this from you. Or else—”

“Don’t.” Neytiri raised a warning finger at him, voice just above a whisper so they could hear their daughter if she decided to cut in. “Threaten her.”

He couldn’t stop her from snatching the communication device off of him. “Ma’ite, it’s mom. Can you talk to me at least?”

His ears twitched at picking up on you responding, not quite making out the words.

Jake’s eyes shut close for a long time as his whole eyebrow line migrated upwards, he physically had to get a few steps between him and the earpiece so the obliviating worry that’d almost blinded him wouldn’t cause him to say something he’d greatly regret later. He could feel himself deflating. A migraine could be coming anytime soon.

You wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence but the moment your mother interrupted, you did? Fine. Fine. He didn’t care. Jake could live with it. At least you were alive.

A rippling shudder shook him the moment that thought hit him, an image of you lying dead in a ditch, pale blue, flashing in his mind, he had to run a hand down his face.

When Jake looked back, irked by the silence, he found Neytiri standing completely stock-still. And all of a sudden, her petrifying glare was on him, ears pinned all the way back, hands gradually starting to tremble.

“Neytiri?”

She wordlessly handed him the device, and with a deep frown, Jake put it back in his ear.

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

And the ground disappeared right under Jake’s feet, plunging him into hell itself.

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#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #irma: 📝#📖: light

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alastor-simp · 2 months

Text

Alastor with a female reader who is Selectively Mute Part 3

❥Summary: A certain overlord intrudes on both you and Alastor. This situation is going to become very tense, once you realized who exactly this is.

❥Tags: Selectively mute reader, fluff, fluff and romance, friends to lovers, demi-romantic alastor, alastor frowns, vox being vox, alastor is not used to feelings, comedy, alastor and vox rivalry, spoilers of episode 2, protective alastor, confessing feelings, fem reader.

❥Notes: This is the final chapter of this series. I hope you all enjoyed it :).

"Well well well, if it isn't the Radio Demon." You felt Alastor tense, and the static in the air began to increase. Turning around, you noticed there was another demon standing behind the both of you. He stood as tall as Alastor, sporting a dark blue tuxedo and large red bow tie. The most striking thing on him was his head. It resembled a tv screen. On the screen was a pair of striking red eyes and blue colored teeth. His eyes were filled with immense hate, while sporting a cocky grin.

Alastor slowly turned around, smile strained immensely on his face, which you noticed. Did Alastor know this man? "Ah! If it isn't Vox! The piece of shit television himself?" Alastor snarled back at the TV, teeth sharpening the more he spoke. Ohhh this was Vox! You never saw what he looked like, but you knew about the rivalry between him and Alastor, especially since you heard Alastor mention him in his last broadcast. He was part of a group called the Vee's, which consisted of overlords Valentino, Velvette and Vox. The only Vee you knew about fully was Valentino since he was Angel's boss and you really didn't like him. Vox's eye twitch at Al's insult, but the grin was still present on his face. "HAHAHA! Even after 7 years, you still remained an a**hole. Took you a while to show your ugly face back here. Finally decided to join my team?" He approached closer, arms crossed in front of him, as his eyes were locked on Al, ignoring you. Al's head flew back in laughter, before it snapped back into place, as he let out, "HA! No!"

The both of them were locked in a stare off, with the sounds of static and whirring penetrating the air around you, making you a tad bit nervous. Soon Vox broke the stare, and turned to look at you, eyes widen a tad in shock, before they gazed at you, sensually. "My my! Quite a looker, aren't you! May I know your name, sweetie?” His clawed hand had grabbed yours, as he was leaning down to give it a peck. It felt like a hole had opened inside your stomach. Something about the way he acted made you very uncomfortable. You were use to actions like this from Alastor, as they made your heart skip a beat, but coming from Vox, you didn't like it. A small growl was heard next to you, and another clawed hand had grabbed Vox's wrist, removing his hand from yours. "It is quite rude to touch a lady without her consent, you know! So, H̶̱̞̗͈̮͛̓̔̄͐̉a̴̯̜̗̝̠̰͌̈̋̚͝ͅn̸̖̝͙̜̩̳͆͋̿̃ͅd̸̡̤̅̈̐́̎̐̕s̵̭̀̏͛͐̅ ̷̡̢̩͉͔͍̹̐̃̉͌́̕͠ȍ̸̳̗̰̻͚͔͎͒̄ff̵̘̻̠̗̏̆̚." Radio dials flashed on Al's face, along with his shadow demons poking out a different corners, ready to strike. Scoffing, Vox just pulled his hand away, annoyed that Al had the nerve to touch him, before wearing a sinister grin.

"Heh! Who is the little hottie? A new toy for you to mess with?" Now that pissed you off. You were about to start typing your response on your phone, but Alastor had spoken for you. "She is none of your concern! Now, I believe its time for the both of us to head back! Hope you have an unpleasant evening, Vox!" Al wrapped an arm around you again, ready to leave, but he was stopped by a very loud cackle. "HAHAHAHAHA! Oh this is rich! You running away again?!" He was hunched over, holding his stomach from laughter. Your eyes looked over at Al. His smile was completely strained, to the point of it almost breaking. He was trying very hard to maintain his composure, and not rip off Vox's head, but Al didn't want you to see that side of him, his true side that bathed in carnage and gore, while he danced on the corpses of the demons he slaughtered. Alastor had developed a soft spot for you during his time at the hotel. He hated it immensely, that the more he conversed with you, the more vulnerable he got. He was the radio demon, the most feared demon in hell, who broadcasted the deaths of many overlords to all the residents of hell, but you are able to change him, so he made a vow to himself that he would protect you and help you whenever you were under distress. Last thing he wanted to see from you was your eyes gazing at him in fear, after witnessing his true self.

Vox had finished his laugh session, before he stood back, placing his hands on his hips. "I figured after seven years of disappearing, you would be back to terrorizing the streets, but instead your acting like a little pu✪✪✪ bit✪✪, doing absolutely nothing! You have become such a fossil that barely anyone even remembers you, but they remember me, they always do, since I AM ONE OF THE V-SMACK!" Vox's speech was caught off by a strong slap to his screen face, stunning him a bit, before turning back to look at the both of you. Alastor was gazing at you in shock, not expecting that reaction from you, and slapping Vox across the face. Your face was red with anger, and he could almost see steam coming out of your ears. Grabbing your phone, you began to speed type what you wanted to say to Vox, before turning it towards him, voice speaker volume at full blast:

"𝙾𝙼𝙶 𝙳𝙾 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝙷𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝚄✪✪ 𝚄𝙿!!?!? 𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙷𝙴𝙻𝙻 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚃𝙾 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝚄𝙻𝚃 𝙷𝙸𝙼 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂?! 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝙳𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙳𝙰𝙼𝙽 𝙱𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂, 𝚂𝙾 𝙵𝚄✪✪ 𝙾𝙵𝙵!!!!"

Vox was put off a bit by your strange method of responding back, but he shook his head and began to walk closer, peering down at you. "You crazy bit✪✪!! Do you know who I am?! His response earned an eyeroll from you, as you continued to type what you wanted to say:

"𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎! 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝! 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚝, 𝚏𝚞✪✪-𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎! 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜, 𝙸 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝-𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚗𝚘, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖? 𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙷��'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚜𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚝!"

Vox's eyes widen, as he stepped back at what you said, stunned. "I'm...I'm not......I don't..." He fumbled with his words, unable to give a good comeback. Alastor continued to gaze down at you in awe, wondering where this side of you has been. Typing a final message, you played it out for him:

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊✪✪ 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏! 𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚒𝚖𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜!

Grabbing Al's hand, you pulled it and began walking back in the direction you were going, leaving behind an open-mouth Vox, screen flashing to blue, as his brain couldn't compute that he just got owned. Alastor said nothing, and followed after you, as the both of you continued to walk back to the hotel. The walk was silent, neither you nor Alastor uttered a word to each other. Arriving at the doors to the hotel, you let Al's hand go, knowing that the others would ask questions if they saw the both of you holding hands. Entering inside, you were greeted by the others, asking how was the show and yada yada. You gave a thumbs up, while Al gave a lengthy response saying that the performance was spectacular. Alastor then urgently insisted that he needed to attend something, before snapping his fingers, disappearing from sight.

He hadn't looked at you the whole time, when the both of you came back. Had you upset him? He didn't appear angry when the both of you started to head back, but maybe he was hiding it from you. Thinking back to what you did, you realized that you maybe shouldn't have done that. Alastor was a powerful demon, the fearful gazes he got from others was proof of that. He was fully capable of defending himself against Vox, he didn't need you to do it for him. Your body wanted to head to where Alastor ran off to, but you decided not to, as he maybe needed time to cool off.

**12:00 AM**

It had finally reached midnight, and you had seen no trace of Alastor. He wasn't present for dinner nor did he return to the lobby. Heaving a sigh, you realized that you must have angered him very badly. You hoped you would see him tomorrow and apologize. Exiting your bathroom, you had finished brushing your teeth and put on your apple themed PJs, a gift from Charlie. Heading over to the bed, you took a sit on the fluffy covers, before falling back, cell phone planting on the bed as well. Too many emotions and thoughts were floating around in your head, preventing you from falling asleep. "Knock knock", a soft knocking noise was heard against your door. Getting up from your bed, along with grabbing your phone, you peeked into the peep hole, to see Alastor standing on the other side. Unlocking the door, you softly opened it. "Good evening, my dear! Sorry if I had disturbed your rest, but there is something I needed to discuss with you." His smile was still enlarged as always, but you couldn't tell if he was back to normal or still enraged. It was so hard to read him at times. Nodding your head, you moved your body to allow him in. He walked inside, standing at the center of your room, with his hands placed behind his back. He didn't turn around to face you, making you feel nervous. Suddenly, sounds of static-filled laughter erupted from him, causing you to jump up in shock.

Alastor turned to face you, still laughing with slight tears in his eyes. "Oh, apologies for the sudden laughter, but your little confrontation with Vox was highly entertaining, my dear! In all my years in hell, I have never seen that expression from him! HAHAHA! What a sight!" Alastor was still giggling with glee, wiping his eyes, that were leaking with tears. The laughing quickly stopped when he saw the look on your face, tears streaming down. Panicking, Al walked closer, wondering why you were crying. Pulling your phone up, fingers shakingly typing your message to Al"

𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢. 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝙸…..𝙸

Unable to type, due to how hard your hands were shaking, you dropped your phone, hands flying to your face, wiping away at your tears. Alastor was silent, having not said a word after you dropped your phone. Two hands had grabbed yours, pulling them away from your face, allowing your eyes to look up at Al's. His expression was soft, wearing a small grin. "Why would you think I was angry with you, my dear?" His voice had dropped into a soft whisper, containing no traces of static. You casted your eyes down, still feeling ashamed. "Y/N. Look at me." Goosebumps appeared all over your body. He almost never addressed you by your full name. Peering back into his red irises, you looked straight at him. His eyes always held so much emotion, and the emotion you saw was pure warmth. His fingers wiped at your cheeks, cleaning the tears "I was never upset with you. Frankly, I was quite in awe at what you did. You defended me without hesitation and even called me a "friend." It has been many centuries since someone has addressed me that way, that it stunned me to my very core. Please don't cry, my dear. Tears don't suit your adorable face."

He rubbed your cheeks up and down like you were a cat. His sweet words felt like they were caressing your skin, causing shivers to flow through your body. Alastor leaned forward, placing his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. "You....you are quite a special one, aren't you. Being with you makes me feel things I thought had died long ago. Only time I felt anything like this was when my mother was still alive. These things....these feelings are changing me, you are changing me. Part of me wants to push them away, but the other part of me wants to embrace them, embrace this." His everlasting smile had dropped, causing your eyes to widen. He was frowning!! Alastor, the demon who always wore a smile, was frowning?! This was the real Alastor in front of you now, not the radio demon persona. Rubbing his forehead against yours, Al opened his eyes, staring back at you.

The both of you stayed in that position until Alastor spoke again, "All of this...is entirely new to me, my dear. But, I want to explore more of this with you. What say you, Y/N? Would you like for this to become something more?" The butterflies in your stomach were going haywire, as the color of your cheeks dyed a deep red. Alastor wanted to be with you? Have a relationship more than this? Your thoughts were filled with all of the moments the both of you had. The pleasant conversations, the sweet gestures and the looks he would give you. The answer was clear to you. Wanting to grab your phone, you realized you had dropped it, making you unable to tell Alastor your answer. No no. You didn't need the phone. Feelings of nervousness began to overtake you, as you bit your lip. Alastor noticed your expression, and pulled back.

"I'm sorry, my dear. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I'll take my leave. We can discuss this another time." Alastor's smile had come back, but it seemed almost somber. Shaking your head, you didn't want him to leave without hearing what you had to say. Clenching your fists, you took a deep breath. Grabbing his coat, you pulled him down, back to your level. Alastor bent down. letting out a small gasp, not expecting your actions. Before he could speak, a pair of lips had attached to his. His crimson eyes widen in shock, his body becoming tense. His mind slowly began to piece together that you were kissing him. It left him shook, but he slowly eased into it, reciprocating back. The kiss lasted for a full minute, before you pulled away, and stared at Al. Biting your lip again, baring through the anxious emotions, you opened your mouth.

"I-I love you Alastor. I-I want to be t-together with you"

Alastor nearly gasped, legs almost buckling from what just happened. Did you just speak?!?!?!? You had spoken for the first time, in front of him. Your voice was so precious and soft, almost like an angel. His eyes sparkled with excitement, as he grabbed you by the waist, spinning you around in joy. Grabbing on to him, you let out a small chuckle, at his reaction. The spinning slowly stopped, as Al set you back down, placing his gloved hand on your pink-tinted cheek. His own face was similar to yours, flustered, yet he was wearing a love-struck expression. "I-I adore you as well, my doe." Seems it was still difficult for him to say I love you, but you were content with that. Alastor then leaned in to kiss your forehead, as he pulled back. "I believe it is past our bedtimes, my doe. I must, unfortunately head back to my quarters, but I will be here first thing in the morning." Listening to him, you nodded your head, letting out a soft "okay". Patting your head, he wished you pleasant dreams, as he made his way to your door, exiting your room. Watching him leave, you walked to the door, and placed a hand on it, before you turned around. Sliding your body down, you placed a hand on your chest as you gave a love struck sigh. It was official, both you and Al were going to be more than just friends. It made you nervous, but so excited at the same time. Getting up from your position on the floor, you went over to your bed, placing your head on the pillow. Grabbing the other across from you, you planted your face into it, squealing while kicking your feet in joy.

**Alastor POV**

Having left your room, Alastor still stood at your door, back facing it. Letting out a shaky sigh, he placed his back against it, letting his head fall back against it. His emotions were springily like crazy. All of this was still so new to him. His memory flashed back to what he said to you, annoyed that he couldn't say the three simple words, but he remembered the smitten look on your face, happy with that he said. The black heart in his chest was still beating a mile a minute, and his cheeks were still flaming hot. Sighing again, he moved from his position and walked down the hallway to head to his room. Tomorrow was going the be the first day of the both of you being in this kind of relationship, and he honestly couldn't wait.

~END~

Part 1 of Series is Here = X

Part 2 of Series is Here = X

Tagging:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi , @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @lokis-imaginary-friend , @themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @pawstrey , @futureittomainn , @christinaatyourservice92 , @littledolly2345 , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 , @mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow , @madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel , @ainsliemac ,

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fangswbenefits · 3 months

Text

The Arrangement (12) - In the Beginning

Chapter summary: Astarion meets up with Ava and it triggers something deep within him.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Mention of masturbation. Dissociative episode. Bloodlust.

Word count: 4.8k

Series Masterlist . Ao3

He should have known this would happen eventually.

His love affair with the sun had reached an unavoidable end. Yet again. Luck had seldom ever been on his side, so this shouldn’t sting this much.

But it did.

His eyes darted to the half-moon window high up above through which scorching shafts of sunlight tore and lit up the dingy cellar.

Revulsion stirred within him and the flares of anger threatened to consume him whole.

The very same sun rays in which he had bathed for weeks were now a sore reminder of his true and inescapable nature.

He titled his head back against the wooden crate, his eyes fluttering shut in defeat as he sat on the cold floor.

Astarion had served his purpose and was now cast to live in the shadows once more, bound to his hunger and to all the inconveniences of being a vampire spawn.

The pain of being scorched by the sunlight had been revived in his mind after weeks of freely strolling around the Sword Coast in some impromptu quest to save Baldur’s Gate whilst having to deal with an inconvenient wriggling dweller inside his head.

But all the physical pain of being burnt mercilessly paled in comparison when his ears picked up approaching footsteps.

He knew who they belonged to.

The sound was carved into his mind like a dagger that wouldn’t budge.

You.

He winced as the squeaky door was pushed open.

“Astarion?”

He gritted his teeth, silently praying you’d simply walk away and leave him to his misery.

But his prayers had never been answered before, and that wasn’t about to change now, least of all when it concerned you.

In truth, he doubted any God above would be able to keep you from plaguing his thoughts.

“Astarion, I know you’re in here.”

Then leave.

He remained silent, eyes fluttered shut and an urge to be swallowed whole by the ground below.

Light and careful footsteps drew near and only came to a halt as a swift rush of air indicated to him that you were crouched in front of him.

Shit.

“Hello,” you said and he could hear the warm smile in your voice.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and he was sure that if he had a beating heart, it would most likely skip a few beats. Instead, he felt his stomach lurch as hunger simmered dangerously.

Your kind eyes met his and he craved nothing more than to have you be gone.

From all the afflictions he was yet again a slave to, you were by far the most painful one.

“Did you come here to mock me?” he spat, the poisonous words leaving his mouth before he could hold back.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Mock you? Astarion–��

But he cut you off like a knife through flesh. “Spare me – I saw the way they laughed as my skin crumbled to ashes. So if you’ve come here to have your share, you can just leave.”

He was being unfair and he didn’t need your wavering smile as proof.

After all your travels together and his unrequited feelings towards you, he couldn’t fight his arrogance from surfacing.

But you never gave up on him – through deceit and manipulation, you were unmoving and relentless in your loyalty to him.

“I’ll have you know that I scolded all of them for doing so,” you said firmly. “It was uncalled for, especially after everything we’ve been through together.”

His jaw clenched harder and his eyes narrowed.

Oh, he couldn’t stand it. That look on your face – pity. It immediately triggered a visceral reaction deep within him, and when he saw you reach out to him with your hand, he flinched away and recoiled against the crate behind him.

“Don’t touch me.”

Your hand immediately stilled before dropping to your knee, and he saw a glint of sadness cross your eyes.

It wasn’t disgust or anger that caused him to utter such words.

He just knew your touch would ruin him and that he’d allow it.

“We can find a way to solve this,” you tried again with newfound determination. “We will find a way.”

He scoffed, averting his gaze.

Unfortunately, the laws of the worlds didn’t bend to the whims of lesser beings without compromise.

And he soon realised what really bothered him was how vulnerable he felt – how exposed and weak he surely looked in your eyes.

Pathetic.

Useless.

Tainted.

Broken.

“Do you trust me?”

He remained silent.

“Do you?”

Your insistence gnawed at his nerves, causing him to lock eyes with you again.

“It goes beyond trust, darling. If walking in the sun again – or curing vampirism altogether – were that easy, I would not be here in the first place.”

Even through his snarky remark, you found a way to hold a smile and it immediately disarmed him. “Astarion, if there is anything our travels together have taught me is that we're quite good at turning the impossible into possible,” you said with conviction. “If there is a way to help you, we will find it.”

In another lifetime, he would have called you a foolish human who uttered big words without knowing their meaning.

But in this one, he did know you didn't extend promises lightly.

And if there was a sliver of hope he could cling to, he'd take it, especially now that Cazador was no longer around to compel him otherwise.

“Well, who's ‘we’, exactly?” he asked, easing himself against the crate.

Your face lightened up. “You and me, of course.”

The two of you. Just the two of you?

Oh, he liked the sound of that. Very, very much.

His jaw slacked as hope kindled inside him, soaring dangerously high.

“Well, and Wyll – he's offered to help.”

Said hope plummeted back to the ground, shattering.

He scowled with a click of his tongue. “Did he, now? How chivalrous of him.”

You nodded. “I'm sure the others will come around, too.”

Astarion supposed this was a decent prospect, but almost grimaced when you extended your hand to him.

“Deal?”

He wanted to believe your relationship with him surpassed a mere friendship value, but he had grown tired of hoping for more.

Still, he would greedily take anything you would offer him.

Whether it was an indication that you craved more than friendship, or a simple handshake.

As such, he took your hand in his, revelling in the familiar warmth. “We have a deal, darling.”

Once he entered The Blushing Mermaid, it was evident that the presence of six Flaming Fists was not welcome at all.

Bork immediately asked for only two to stay inside as they were beginning to frighten the clientele.

But, much to his convenience, he immediately found who he was looking for, sitting in the furthermost corner of the lounge area.

Ava.

The plan was simple: try to get a confession from her – if applicable – but they would still be bringing her in for questioning as Rob Sorel, her lover, awaited her with Wyll.

A measured smile spread across her face as she noticed the fists behind him.

He slithered to her table with determined steps, aware that there was a possibility that this conversation would lead nowhere.

He slowly took the seat across from her, casually placing his twin daggers on the chipped table.

Ava's eyes dropped momentarily before meeting his again. “Oh, Astarion. Offering a silent warning with poison-coated blades? You needn't do that with me.”

Astarion's lips twitched upwards in silence.

He knew this dance better than most. He could read others quite efficiently when it came to sudden shifts in body language, and he had noticed Ava sitting straighter and her saccharine smile wavering all of a sudden.

And he had her right where he wanted her.

“You can't be too careful. Isn't that what some say?” he said, absentmindedly drumming his fingers along the handle of one dagger.

She took a sip from her cup before tilting it. “I'd order one for you, but I know this isn't your drink of choice – unless you brought her along for a sip, that is.”

Her taunt was enough to set him ablaze and the tip of his blade was immediately carved into the wooden table, earning a jolt from her.

“You do not get to goad me with her,” he snarled, gripping the handle so fiercely he might snap it in half. “She is off limits and you were delusional to even think you could bring her into this without consequences.”

Suddenly, her face twisted into a hard scowl and whatever traces of sweetness vanished. “I would not do anything with her without talking to you first.”

“You still offered her a deal, thereby roping her into something she is not to be a part of,” he retorted. “Her blood is off limits. She is off limits.”

Ava leaned back with a roll of her eyes. “Is this a case of you not wanting to share? Not even if that could be beneficial to you?”

His grip loosened slightly as his brows furrowed. “What is your point?”

She took another sip. “Her blood mixed with yours could be beneficial to my experiment and, thus, to you and even that massive horde of spawn in the Underdark.”

Of course Ava would want to play her cards right to keep him around.

It was a temptimg prospect, and he would never consider it at your expense.

He was no fool and you were no bargaining chip.

“I could never ask that of her. She stays out of this.”

She forced a yawn. “Have you forgotten your arrangement with her? Her blood for your good behaviour? Or does all sense of reason rush to your cock when you feed on her?”

Ava's words slashed through the air and he was momentarily taken aback.

The nature of your arrangement with him was vastly different. It wasn’t as simple as him being kept in line like some obedient pup. He could have turned the offer away and live exclusively off boars and deers – much to his horror.

The difference was… well, you.

Your unwillingness to let him go.

Your blood.

Your insistence on helping him keep his mind clear by allowing him to freely feed on the blood of a thinking creature.

And not just any thinking creature.

You.

His first.

The only blood he craved to the point of madness.

“Though, I can tell you haven't fed in a couple of days,” she went on with a dramatic pout. “A lover's quarrel, hmm?”

Oh, she was vicious.

This was the same woman who had shared a bed with him to ease him coming to terms with intimacy. For the most part, her simply being naked by his side hadn't helped much, but it seemed enough, and he was desperate to overcome the prison that his mind had become.

However, this was also the same woman who slayed her kin without hesitation.

She could go from being as kind and sweet to holding a stake to his chest.

Astarion felt a sense of dread wash over him as he realised he had greatly underestimated her.

Now, he needed to tread lightly.

The blade sunk deeper into the table as he leaned closer. “You wanted her blood in exchange for information.”

“Yet it is a far less selfish bargain than your arrangement with her, is it not?”

He ignored tar taunt. “Who is after me?”

“I do not know yet.”

He gritted his teeth. “Lies.”

Ava's face softened and he watched her slip into her usual overly sweet demeanour. “Astarion, we can be here all night hurling accusations and witty remarks at each other,” she said with a sigh. “Or we can approach this in a more sensitive manner.”

He didn't budge. “Who is after me?”

“I do not know who is after you,” she said. “Someone is, but I have yet to find out who.”

There was something in her tone that felt disingenuous. Almost as if she hadn't expected him to press her on this.

“Or there is no one at all besides you,” he said casually.

Her eyes widened slightly. “Me? And what would I gain from doing such a thing? Your blood is an integral part of this experiment. Locking you up in a prison cell would prove to be a nuisance.”

His patience was wearing thin.

“Darling, I've been around long enough to know people lie – you are a pristine liar, but a liar nonetheless.

In truth, he was merely bluffing in an attempt to spot any cracks in her story. He needed anything he could get from her.

And a part of him still hoped this was all a misunderstanding.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “I can see what you are trying to do and it won't work.”

He thought as much. Still, he had to give it a try.

“What about Waterdeep?”

For the first time that night, Ava looked genuinely dumbfounded. “What about it?”

“No casual killings over there, hmm? In the past hours – accidental ones, perhaps?” he pressed.

She frowned deeply in response. “What are you accusing me of, exactly?”

“Someone was murdered and I am simply trying to rule you out as a suspect,” he said, feigning concern.

“You overestimate my reach outside Baldur's Gate.”

He scoffed. “But not the reach of a certain patriar who so happens to be your lover.”

Ava's lips parted but she didn't utter a word.

“Rob Sorel has dealings in Waterdeep and knows which strings to pull to order a murder.”

She was visibly agitated, but he couldn't tell the cause. Was it the mention of a patriar? Or was he simply nearing the truth?

“Who was killed?”

It was all pointless.

A shame.

He merely turned in his seat and motioned for the two Fists at the door. Both immediately approached with the Mage Slayer right behind.

By this point, Astarion wasn't sure if Ava was even involved in this at all, but he couldn't take any risks. She would be taken in for questioning regardless of his judgement.

“Astarion?”

The room was immediately plunged into silence as multiple heads turned to watch the scene. From behind the counter he spotted Bork shaking his head in clear disapproval, visibly displeased with the ordeal.

“Astarion? What are you doing?”

His eyes met hers as he sheathed his daggers. “The right thing.”

He was known to do that from time to time, even against his better judgement.

She rushed to her feet, clawing at her dress in search of her own dagger. “Astarion!”

He could hear the rising panic in her voice, and he silently watched as the mage cast Hold Person on her before she could so much as blink.

She was instantly left petrified in place as the violet sign on the floor caged her in.

Gasps echoed around him and the two Fists promptly rushed to her side.

“We'll handle it from here,” one of them told him.

There was a part of him that vaguely wondered if this was the correct approach.

A part of him that hoped for Ava not to be involved in any of it.

And then, from across the room, he saw you.

He blinked twice, thinking his eyes betrayed him, but there you were, standing by the door with a Fist at your side, staring back into his crimson eyes.

And it was as if he had been mentally slapped.

Ava had dared to involve you.

You.

And it had been his fault.

The unruly and dense crowd in the room wasn't enough to contain him from darting hurriedly to meet you.

Annoyance hit him first and it was woven into his words once he was in front of you, gripping your forearm. “Why are you here? I told you to let me handle this.”

You immediately yanked free with narrowed eyes. “I wasn't trying to interfere. But this idiot,” you said, pointing to the Fist who merely shrugged, “pushed me inside and – wait! How did it go with her?”

Astarion caught hold of your shoulders, pulling you to the side as Ava was carried away through the door.

As soon as it closed behind them, the fanfare commenced once more in between heated whispers and glares from those around the two of you.

“Marvellous as you can see,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “She didn't confess to anything, and I had limited time.”

You pushed the door open once again and he promptly followed you outside, until he felt a hard shove from someone's hand.

“Move, spawn.”

He glanced over his shoulder only to see a frowning Fist right behind.

“We are not cattle to be ordered around,” he spat, adjusting his vest. “Honestly, Wyll ought to have you all stand trial for severe lack of manners.”

“It's Duke Ravengard to you,” the Fist growled, hand on the hilt of his sword.

Astarion clicked his tongue humorously. “It's Wyll to me and Duke Ravengard to you, Fist.”

Before tensions could escalate any further, you were already tugging at his sleeve, and dragging him across the wooden pier.

Just as the Fist opened his mouth, a myriad of clashing and banging sounds were heard from inside and he turned to open the door.

Probably a tavern brawl.

What fun!

Seconds later, the armoured man was toppled to the ground as the door burst open with people yelling profanities and slinging fists at each other.

“I'll kill ya! WHERE IS MY CHICKEN, YOU OAF?” a drunkard missing most of his teeth yelled, holding a frying pan in his hand.

“YOU ATE IT, YOU IMBECILE!” said another, stepping on the fallen Fist and nearly losing his balance.

Behind them, Astarion spotted several items being tossed whilst Bork's voice begged for order.

He almost clicked his tongue.

Tavern brawls were too much fun and he always adored adding fuel to the fire by standing on the side and instigating these drunkard fools.

But a quick glance at you and he could tell you wouldn't approve of such activity, so he remained at your side.

The other two Fists that were standing guard nearby, clumsily rushed to the entrance.

“Go call for backup!”

The youngest nodded and nearly bumped into Astarion as he tried to keep his helmet steady.

“Oh! Do not leave! Do not move!”

Astarion immediately raised both hands innocently. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

“Right. Thank you!”

Idiot.

Surprisingly, you hadn't let go of his sleeve and your hand moved to his wrist, pulling him to cross the road until you reached the metal balustrade that allowed a privileged view over the Grey Harbour Docks.

It was far away from the chaos that had erupted, but not quite far that would potentially get you into trouble.

Although… “Maybe we should leave.”

Astarion arched an eyebrow at you. “And going against the voice of authority?”

Your face dropped and he fought the urge to pinch your cheek teasingly.

You were so easy to rile up.

“You scheming little delinquent, you,” he said with a devious smile and a chuckle. “I'm all for acts of rebellion, but we ought to stay nearby this time.”

“Do you think we should go help them out?” you asked, glancing over at the rising commotion nearby.

The two of you exchanged looks before shrugging.

“No. They can fend for themselves,” you said, leaning over the fence, eyes set on the lulling sea that spread vastly into the distance.

“Actually, they're quite incompetent, but I don't feel like creasing my shirt,” he said with an annoyed click of his tongue, inspecting his sleeves as he joined you. “Let them fight off the drunkards. We get to collect the scattered coins on the floor afterwards.”

You shot him a curious look. “You do that?”

“Well, obviously? I put the gold to good use, at least.”

“Embroidery?”

That tugged a genuine smile from him and he caught himself staring at you under the moonlight.

Gods.

He would never tire of admiring your beauty and how it was almost embarrassingly too easy for him to get lost in your eyes.

It also didn't help that he hadn't fed in a few days.

Bloodlust clouded his mind and made his insides turn.

It was the soft sound of your voice that snapped him from his thoughts. “What now? I mean… Ava.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, they are to interrogate Rob Sorel and see how both their stories hold up.”

You heaved a deep sigh. “So we wait.”

“We wait.”

Astarion had grown used to the silence that would often settle around the two of you. It wasn’t an uncomfortable one. It was the kind that he had never experienced before.

He wasn't sure there was a name for it, but he knew the feeling attached to it all too well.

The silhouette of passing ships on the horizon, dancing along the calm waters added to the overall soothing atmosphere.

He could stay a while longer like this.

With you.

His eyes eventually darted to the side and he nearly jolted when your head turned to him, as if you had felt his burning gaze.

“You can feed on me once we get home.”

He wanted that.

He needed it.

He craved it.

But… “I can do without your blood for a while longer, darling.”

A white lie.

He could feel his mind spotting and blanking at times already, especially when near you. Maybe he had gotten too addicted to feeding on you to the point his body could no longer go extended periods of time without blood.

Your blood.

And as much as he appreciated your offer, he needed to withstand his hunger.

Ava's words echoed in his mind and he almost felt repulsed from having allowed himself to be so dependent on you and putting you through it in the first place.

“Are you alright?” you asked, visibly worried.

“Yes – of course, darling,” he forced a smile to curl his lips.

Your hand came to rest on his forearm. “Astarion, you can feed on me. I mean it.”

His eyes dropped to your neck, the symmetrical puncture wounds still visible from when he had last bitten you.

Hunger swelled to the point of agony and he could almost smell your blood and feel it coursing through your hand.

You gave him a reassuring nod, which only made it harder for him to resist the urge to give in.

“I should go hunt, actually,” he eventually managed to say and his words felt like ash in his mouth.

You chuckled slightly, squeezing his arm. “You'd probably have to bring a Fist with you.”

He grimaced, but appreciated your attempt at diffusing the tension. “They would end up being the ones hunted by some beast in the woods, and I would have to step in and save the godsdamned idiot.”

Your eyes widened and then you laughed.

Hard.

And it was the most comforting sound he had ever heard in a long while.

It was enough to steer the bloodlust away and he laughed with you.

“It reminds me of the first time you fed on me,” you said, wiping off the teardrops that had formed in the corners of your eyes from laughing. “Remember? When you drifted off into the woods to hunt for something more ‘filing’?”

Oh.

Shit.

His smile wavered and you immediately caught on to the sudden shift.

“What?”

He thought he had told you what truly happened that night….

…. he hadn't?

“Well… I…” his words failed him and as he pondered how he should approach the topic.

Concern suddenly splattered across your face. “What is it?

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I didn't exactly go hunting,” he said with a tense chuckle.

You remained silent, waiting for him to go on.

“I just had to get away from you… to… uhm, well – take care of a little problem that stirred whilst I fed on you, if you catch my meaning.”

He allowed the implication to dangle from his words, and it wasn't a particularly subtle one.

And then your eyes widened once more in sudden realisation.

“Oh… it makes sense,” you said all flustered, withdrawing your hand from his arm. “You did say my blood feels really good.”

‘Good’ was an unfair understatement.

It always felt divine.

“Don't misunderstand,” he quickly added. “It was totally out of my control. I was quite surprised when I realised just how…” hard he had gotten.

“Just how…?”

“Just how much your blood affected me.”

He could remember it clearly in his head.

How desperate he was to slip into the woods and find a secluded place so he could see just how much of a mess his trousers were.

He could feel it, obviously, but he wouldn't know the extent of the ‘'damage’ until he undid his trousers.

“Did you… get…. really hard?” you drawled out in a hushed tone as if scared someone other than him might overhear you.

Astarion figured this was the last topic he expected to be addressing given that the background noise consisted of screams and threats and loud noises and glass smashing.

Hardly the right ambience.

“Yes.”

He could almost remember the feel of the bark of the tree digging into his back as he hurriedly undid the lacing at the front until he was able to free his cock.

“And what did you do?”

Were these merely questions that stemmed from curiosity or were you trying to stir something else…?

“Well…” he started, “you can't expect me to reveal such things aloud.”

He watched you swallow hard as you nodded. “You can say in my ear, then? If you want to, of course,” you quickly added.

You were too adorable and he was in dire need of a distraction from his bloodlust.

This would suffice.

He leaned closer, and pressed a kiss to your heated cheek before his lips grazed the shell of your ear.

“I had to take care of it.”

You shuddered.

His cock had never been as hard and as thick before he had fed on you. It had made him utterly speechless to see all the precum dripping from the tip.

He had been almost too scared to even touch it.

But when he did….

The groan that had erupted from his throat had been too difficult to rein in. His cock had felt warm and it had throbbed from your blood coursing through it, giving it a faint pink tint to it.

“In the woods?” you asked, gripping the railing with both hands.

“Yes.”

He could hear the faint beating of your heart increasing. “What if someone had run into you?”

His cock twitched.

Innocent, little pup…

“Why, darling… did you want to run into me,” he lowered his voice as his lips brushed against your ear, "and witness my despair as I touched myself?”

You gasped.

Despair didn't quite cover it.

He couldn’t remember a time when he had ever felt like he'd implode lest he reached climax.

It was a novelty and he had felt… alive.

He had heard of how delectable the blood of thinking creatures could be, but he had never anticipated this feeling of fullness and how addictive it could be.

“It was so warm… from your blood, sweetheart,” he purred, feeling himself getting carried away.

You bit your quivering lip before replying, “Did it feel good?”

Maybe too carried away.

And when you shuddered again under his faint touch, it was as if he had been slapped back into another plane of existence.

He suddenly straightened himself and blinked.

What was he doing?

His abrupt change in demeanour was enough to earn a reaction from you, and he could see lust in your half-hooded eyes as you stared at him in confusion.

And just like a tidal wave that one couldn't hold back, he felt disgust and revulsion lacing themselves into a powerful mixture that caused him to take a step back.

His mind was flooded with Ava's accusatory words and the memories of him seducing you for his own benefit.

“Astarion?”

Your voice was miles away and he couldn't even bring himself to blink anymore.

The nauseating feeling was heightened by the fact that he had a very inconvenient erection strained against his trousers, begging for attention.

“Astarion… what is it?”

Your voice seemed even more distant than before, as if he had been plunged into a well and couldn't get out.

Why couldn't he get out?

Why was his cock so hard, but his mind so repulsed by it?

And the impending feeling of dread began to slowly overtake him like storm clouds rolling over the mountains, bent on flooding the land below.

And when it began to rain in his mind, it poured.

He needed to get away.

He needed to get away from you.

You tried reaching out to him with your hand, but he flinched away. “Don't touch me!”

And he could see it in your eyes.

Pity.

Again.

“I – I must go.”

And he didn't look back.

TBC

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x oc #astarion x female tav #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!tav

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north-noire · 2 months

Text

My Michael Afton throughout the years! ft. his own little doodles. I'll try to be brief about the timeline and how my Michael was without saying too much since it'll be explored in the Hidden Hands AU fic's chapters anyway so I won't say all the details. Feel free to read if you guys like! I have a lot to say about him.

1983 (FNAF 4) - Michael was 12 or 13-ish when the Bite happened. Very reckless yet adventurous kid. Didn't really hate Evan (William, as much as he had a soft spot for Evan, still loved Michael all the same), just had really bad friends and influence (his friends were mostly bullies) - and didn't really like that he's being told to parent a little brother he had no idea how to take care of. It didn't help that Evan tended to be a tattle-tail sometimes about the trouble he was getting into. Michael also, deep down, got scared of what the bullies would do to him if he dared stand up for his brother or spoke out against them, so he ends up going along with what they did for his own sake. After the Bite, Michael was still deeply guilty about what he did to Evan, and it haunts him every night, knowing he had no good excuse but irresponsibility for what he did to his brother, because after all, it wasn't like William wasn't giving him enough attention. Michael just knew that he deserved anything unfortunate coming to him, but is genuinely surprised that his father kept telling him he loved him all the same. From this point on, he becomes easily troubled, tends to stay close to his dad. Makes sure he follows the rules and doesn't do trouble. Just wants to do a complete personality shift, and is deeply ashamed of who he was before. 1985 (Charlie's death, Fredbear's Family Diner shuts down) - Michael was 15 here. Over the years, he slowly isolated himself from most of the people in his life since he gets worried about his past scars coming back to haunt him. Mostly a recluse and reserved. He's not handling things well after Charlie's death and a family divorce - not to mention the non-existent social life he had. Just prefers to be left alone, but he's nice if you get to know him. Doesn't really have a good relationship with Elizabeth, but is actually pretty close with William. Feels extremely guilty and hates himself/blames himself for Charlie's death. He gets paranoid easily, as he thinks whoever took Charlie is now after him, but his father tells him to not worry too much about it. 1987 (FNAF 2) - (17) Slowly having a good relationship with Elizabeth. Starts to get into stuff like the supernatural and becomes superstitious to a degree over the years. In public, he's mostly polite and nice, but his actual personality shows through whenever he's with his father or Elizabeth - he's sarcastic, and has quite a dark sense of humor, can be a bit of a rebel, he's just more subtle about it. A bit of an over-thinker - he gets lost in his imagination/head easily. Has a (surprisingly) good relationship with his dad, as he's not really afraid to be himself around him - sometimes gifts him funny things or something he knows his dad would love/would use (he gifts William a rabbit's foot - for good luck, he says). He also helped William build the Fun-Times with blueprints and other technicalities (He's not really aware of the questionable features they had, unfortunately). He couldn't really come with his father and Elizabeth on Circus Baby's Pizza World opening due to things he had to catch up with his home-schooling, he had been skipping classes to work on the Fun-Times, but he really wanted to graduate highschool with a bang, so he's giving everything his all, here. Then Elizabeth suddenly goes missing all of a sudden, and, well... I would say more, but my fic sort of takes a canon-divergence route around FNAF 2/SL-FNAF 1 so that would spoil half of the stuff I've been working/writing about! Reference-sheet wise, I just wanted to show how he progresses from a rebellious, happy and adventurous kid into a more reclused, anxious and soft-spoken adult. Sorry for the long post! I've just been wanting to talk about him for some time now. There's a looot more that I've left out but yeah that's because there will be more in the fic!

#yeah in this au my michael and william actually have a decent father-son relationship even after the bite. even after all that will's done.#michael just... isn't aware of what his dad did yet for the meantime.#ik william isn't a great father at ALL in canon but let me WRITE my AU the way i want okay?#hidden hands au #fnaf au #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf fanart #michael afton #mike afton #fnaf michael afton #fnaf mike afton #long post #my art

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punkshort · 3 months

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somewhere to run | 8. restrained

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Patrick gets released from jail. You and Joel are left to deal with the fallout.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, threats of violence, jealousy, possessiveness, destruction of property, DV is an underlying theme but not explicitly discussed, reminiscing of smut, emotional abuse, reader being called degrading terms for women (not by Joel), infidelity

WC: 8.1K

Series Masterlist

Helen greeted him when he walked through the front doors of the station and he nodded to her in return, just like always. As he walked through the bullpen and a few of his men said good morning or hey, boss, he replied in turn. Everybody was looking at him and treating him like it was any other day. But it wasn't just any other day. He surely must have been walking differently, or maybe his eyes shone a little brighter. Something had to be different because he didn't feel normal anymore. He felt like a brand new man. How was it not obvious? Wasn't it painted across his chest in red? Couldn't they see?

Joel had driven home early from your apartment that morning, the sun barely hanging in the sky in the hopes of avoiding prying eyes this time. At least he had the good sense to park a couple streets over, learning his lesson from the last time he visited you at night.

He had all but given up hope that you would be his one day. Especially after hearing your heart wrenching story, he thought you certainly wouldn't want anything to do with him. With anybody. How would it be possible for someone who had been through what you had been through to trust anyone ever again?

He wouldn't have even blamed you. But somehow, miraculously, you did trust again. And you chose to trust him. You let him into your life, into your heart, into your bed.

Leaving you that morning was the hardest thing he ever did. He was minutes away from calling into work sick, but you insisted he shouldn't, that you would be fine, that you would see him later. He struggled with it, guilt washing over him yet again, not knowing what to do. You were so used to putting up a facade, lying and pretending that everything was okay that you had become frighteningly good at it, sometimes making you difficult to read. The sun peeking over the tops of the trees and the reassurance that Patrick was still in jail, if only for a few more hours, made him finally decide to leave. But the moment he stepped out your front door and fresh air hit his lungs instead of your intoxicating scent, he knew he was done for. He already missed you.

As he pulled into his driveway, he began worrying about later that night. Even with a restraining order, he didn't trust Patrick. He wanted to be with you. But Sarah needed him, too. He had already left her with Tommy the night before and he'd never done that two days in a row.

When he walked into his quiet house, his first instinct was to follow his normal morning routine: shower, dress, coffee, but he stopped himself as he was picking out a fresh set of clothes for the day. He pinched his shirt away from his chest and took a sniff, his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before letting it go.

He smelled like you.

Deciding to skip the shower, he begrudgingly changed his clothes, hoping that your scent would linger on his skin all day.

He jogged down the stairs as he blindly finished knotting his tie. Heading into the kitchen, he flicked on the coffee pot and grabbed his favorite mug before glancing around the room. He wasn't usually one for breakfast, but he had a feeling it would be a long day, so he swung open the fridge to see what was inside. His eyes immediately landed on an unfamiliar styrofoam box. With a frown, he picked it up and placed it on the counter, then flipped it open to reveal his favorite sandwich from Tommy's diner, completely untouched with a note written on the inside lid.

Weren't at the station, thought I would find you here but I guess I missed you. -T

So, Tommy already knew he wasn't working late and he wasn't home. Shit. It had only been a few hours and he already slipped up.

Carol's voice echoed through his head as he drove to work. A warning veiled as friendly advice to keep things separate. As much as it pained him, he knew he had to be careful. This town was too small and gossip travelled too quickly and he couldn't risk fucking up your case against Patrick all because he couldn't control himself and keep his dick in his pants.

He should have thought about that before he left. He should have talked to you about keeping your relationship a secret, although you seemed to come to that conclusion on your own, having urged him to leave before the town woke.

Hell, he didn't even talk to you about the nature of your relationship at all.

As he walked into the break room and poured his second cup of coffee, he mentally scolded himself for being so stupid. He needed to get his head on straight. Maybe he could lie to Tommy and convince him he went on a walk to clear his head when he had stopped by, when in actuality your thighs were probably trembling over his shoulders while he buried his nose and tongue deep inside your sweet, little -

"Shit!" Joel grumbled, shaking his hand to flick the drops of scalding coffee off his skin before running his fingers under some cool water for relief.

Yeah, he really needed to get his head on straight.

"Hey boss, got a minute?"

Joel glanced up from his computer at Bobby standing in the doorway to his office with his hands on his hips. Shockingly, he had actually managed to get into a groove and gotten some work done. It was probably the longest he'd gone without thinking about you in a while, but he would find his mind wrapping itself back around you in a moment because his deputy was coming to talk to him about the last person on earth he wanted to hear about.

"The asshole's lawyer's here insistin' we let 'em go."

Joel knew he would have to do it today. Patrick posted bail and, legally, Joel was only allowed to hold him for a certain amount of time. But it still made his blood run cold.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to stand up, snatching his keys and rounding the desk.

"I'll take care of it."

As Joel made his way to the back of the station, his eye caught a younger man in an expensive looking suit waiting next to Bobby's desk. He was furiously tapping out something on his phone, but when he noticed Joel, he pocketed the device and picked up his leather briefcase from the stack of precariously placed files on the desk.

"Sheriff?" he asked, jogging to catch up with Joel's long strides.

"That's me," he replied gruffly.

"Beckett Kennedy," the man said, stretching out his hand. Joel came to a sudden stop, making Beckett stumble a bit in surprise.

"Joel," he replied, grasping his hand in a firm handshake. His eyes raked over the man's dark, slicked back hair as he tried to ignore his overpowering, and no doubt over-priced, cologne. "Joel Miller."

"Good to meet you. I'm representing -"

"I know, my deputy told me. I'm lettin' him out right now, heard he posted bail. Sorry, been a busy mornin'," Joel replied, turning on his heel to unlock the door that led to the holding cells.

"Much appreciated, Sheriff," Beckett said, trailing after Joel. The man looked very young. Joel was beginning to wonder if maybe Patrick hired a rookie, but when they rounded the corner and Beckett laid eyes on Patrick's bruised and swollen face, Joel quickly realized the lawyer was smarter than he seemed.

"The hell did you do to my client?" Beckett asked, his pleasant demeanor long gone.

"Didn't do anythin'," Joel said calmly as he sifted through the keys in his hand, trying to locate the right one.

"Bullshit. He fucking attacked me in a bar," Patrick said, standing up and gripping the metal bars. Beckett swiveled around to glare at Joel, who was still taking his time finding the key.

"You assaulted my client, Sheriff?"

"Didn't assault anyone," Joel said, finally finding the key and turning it in the lock. He swung the door open and leaned against it, rolling his eyes as Patrick made a big show about limping out of the cell. "Believe you lawyers call it self-defense. Your client swung on me when I was tryin' to have a calm conversation with him 'bout his alcohol consumption that night. Or don't you remember?" Joel asked, turning on Patrick now. "Maybe you had somethin' else in your system besides whiskey that's makin' it hard to recall."

Patrick was about to reply, anger flaring in his eyes, when Beckett held out his hand.

"Don't say a word," he muttered, and Joel grinned when Patrick ruefully clamped his mouth shut. "I don't like what you're insinuating, Sheriff, and all these charges against him are over the line. Two counts aggravated assault, aggravated sexual assault, public intoxication, assaulting an officer-"

"That one's considered a hate crime down here, by the way."

Patrick glared at him and it took everything Joel had not to bash his skull into the iron bars.

Beckett sighed as he scrolled on his phone, reading down the rest of the list of charges silently before glancing back up at the two men and saying your name questioningly.

Hearing your name out of that man's mouth made Joel's whole body ignite with rage. His blood pumped loudly in his ears as he tried to take deep breaths and focus on what they were saying. Keep it separate. Don't fuck this up.

"Yeah, that's my wife," Patrick had said, and again, Joel felt his muscles spasm under his shirt. As if they had a mind of their own, arms itching to reach out and strangle him. Wife. Wife. Wife.

"We're gonna have to talk about this in private," Beckett said to Patrick. Joel took a deep breath, grateful that they were leaving because he wasn't sure if he would be able to hold himself back much longer. But as Joel walked them back out to the front of the station, he felt compelled to say just one more thing.

"Now your client's got a restrainin' order against him. I trust you will make sure he understands what that means if he violates it."

"I know what it fucking means," Patrick spat. "You forget I'm a cop, too? Seems like it, considering the way I've been treated here-"

"That's enough," Beckett said, cutting Patrick off yet again. "Thank you, Sheriff. I'll be in touch."

"I am sure you will," Joel said, leaning against Helen's desk as he watched the two men leave, the front door clicking shut quietly after them.

"Piece of work," Helen muttered as she adjusted her glasses on the tip of her nose and turned back to her computer.

"Yeah, you're tellin' me," Joel sighed. He shoved himself off the desk and headed back to his desk, only pulling his phone out when he had privacy once again.

Joel: He's out.

You stood in the middle of your kitchen staring down blankly at your phone. The two little words taunting you, glaring at you, piercing your skin before knocking the wind out of you.

He's out. He's out. He's out.

You rushed down the stairs and triple checked your locks with shaky fingers before forcing yourself to take a deep breath. It will be okay. This time will be different.

You trudged back up the steps and locked the door behind you, one that you typically left unlocked because you felt it to be more of a hinderance than anything, but going forward you would have to take every precaution. As much as you hated to admit it, you knew Patrick very well. He wouldn't take this lying down. He never has. He will find a way, he will find you and when he gets his hands on you again -

"Stop it," you mumbled to yourself, gently knocking the heel of your hand against your temple, hoping to shake loose the bad thoughts. Just as another wave of panic was about to surge, your phone buzzed again.

Joel: It will be okay. I won't let him touch you.

You took a slow breath in and closed your eyes. How did he know you so well already? How could he know you, inside and out, almost better than you knew yourself?

You knew why.

Because he cares. Because he pays attention and listens and puts your needs first. All of them. Always worried if you ate enough, if you took pain medicine when you were hurting, if you needed a ride back from work, if you could come for him again.

You couldn't live in fear anymore. You finally had someone fighting in your corner, someone who could actually help you, someone you trusted. You needed to be strong. Joel couldn't do everything for you, although you were fairly certain if he could, he would. You picked up your phone and typed out a reply.

You: I know. Thank you.

It was brief, but you knew he needed the reassurance that you were okay. And just as quickly as you sent the message, another popped up on your screen.

Joel: Me and Sarah will pick you up from work tonight and take you home. I'll check your place before I leave.

Tears burned your eyes instantly, overcome with so much gratitude you could just melt into the floor. You hadn't thought about being alone overnight yet, and the idea sent a shock of anxiety through you. Be brave. Be strong.

You: Okay.

Joel: Miss you.

You smiled, your eyes crinkling just enough to cause the tears you were fighting to hold back to fall down your cheeks.

You: I miss you too :)

You took another deep breath and looked around your small living room. You made it this far. You could do this.

It will be different this time.

You had half expected the rest of the waitresses to know what happened when you arrived at the diner that evening. Every time you made eye contact with one of them, you kept waiting for the inevitable look of pity, or their eyes to travel over your face, trying to see past your makeup to what was hidden underneath, but they seemed to treat you exactly the same as always. The butterflies in your stomach quieted down after an hour when you realized Tommy and Maria must have kept their word when Joel asked them to keep your situation private.

At the very least you had expected Maria to try to talk to you about it quietly, or maybe Tommy to make some comment, but they didn't say a word. They welcomed you back to work as if you had been on vacation and you were actually able to push Patrick and the last few days out of your mind. Before you knew it, the dinner rush was nearly over, and you were close to surviving your first shift back. Your legs and feet ached as you unloaded a bus tub in the dish area. You felt sweaty and tired, but you still had a couple hours left in your shift and you could only hope that the rest of the night would be quiet.

"What can I make ya?"

Your head swiveled around in surprise, somehow not hearing one of the cooks, Thor, sneak up on you. He was leaning his big, hulking frame against the wall casually as he waited for your response, as though it wasn't the first time he's ever initiated a conversation with you that wasn't strictly work related. To say he was a big man was an understatement. With tattoo covered arms that were as wide as your torso and towered at least a foot over you, when you first met him, he immediately made you nervous. His intimidating physique and quiet demeanor set you on edge, but by the end of your first day you had realized he was actually very kind. Sure, he kept to himself and didn't say much, but he kept his cool under pressure and he was always doing silent favors for the waitstaff.

"Huh?" was all you could think of to say. He raised an eyebrow at you, giving you a look like it was the most obvious question in the world.

"I said, what can I make ya?" he said again, and then it clicked. He wanted to make you something for dinner. He's never offered before. In fact, you were fairly certain you've never seen him away from the grill once, let alone tracking down waitresses in the dish room for a chat.

"Oh," you said, setting the empty bus tub down and looking around uncomfortably. "You don't have to -"

"If you don't pick somethin', I'm makin' you a BLT."

You met his eyes again, trying to figure out what spurred this on, but his expression gave nothing away.

"Tommy told you, didn't he?" you asked quietly. He gave a small shrug and crossed his arms.

"Don't know what you're talkin' 'bout."

You dropped your gaze to the floor, trying to hide your reaction. He was just offering to make you a sandwich, but it was more than that. He was trying to do something to help. Essentially an acquaintance, a step up from a stranger, he was attempting to reach out and offer his support, in his own way.

He must have seen your eyes grow misty because he pushed off the wall with a grunt, ready to make a hasty exit.

"BLT it is," he said gruffly, and just as he was about to turn to leave, you spoke.

"With turkey?"

He glanced at you and you swore you saw the corner of his bearded mouth twitch, the muscles trying to pull into a smile, but he wouldn't let them. He gave you a quick nod and then headed back behind the line. You bit your lip to try to hold back your smile as you wiped your hands on your apron, then headed out the door back into the dining room.

It was getting close to the end of the night. The diner was closing in thirty minutes and there were only two tables left in the building. With any luck, you would be able to get out of there on time, eager to climb into the safety of Joel's truck. You had been nervous about sleeping alone now that Patrick was out of jail, but now all you could think about was curling up in your bed that hopefully still smelled like Joel.

You were wiping down the coffee machines when you heard the door open and Maria greet a customer. You groaned inwardly when you heard her tell them that the counter was open, and you hoped it was just someone who maybe wanted coffee and a piece of pie so you could still get out on time. Glancing up through the kitchen window, you spotted Thor and Tommy putting away the salad bar and listening to a hockey game over the radio. You sighed, now wishing more than ever that the customer didn't want anything complicated since the kitchen was nearly all broken down for the night.

The fake smile that you plastered across your face fell when you turned around, and you felt all the blood drain from your face when you met a pair of cold, familiar eyes set around a broken nose, waiting for you.

"Y-you can't be he-"

"I know, just listen to me, alright?" Patrick pleaded, looking guilty for maybe the first time in his life.

You looked over his shoulder at Maria, but she was too busy sweeping the foyer to notice what was happening.

"Please look at me, baby."

"Don't call me that," you said softly, but still, your eyes involuntarily slid back to him.

You saw his jaw clench as he cracked a knuckle in his finger, but he forced a smile anyway.

"I guess I deserved that," he admitted, leaning forward as his eyes raked up and down your body. "You look good. Uniform's sexy."

"Stop it," you said, your voice a little firmer now, but still too quiet.

"What? I can't compliment my own wife?" he said with a smile and a tilt of his head. You just stared at him, not sure what to say, worried about setting him off again. After a moment, he sighed and leaned back.

"Can I get a coffee? My head's fucking killing me."

You hesitated and glanced around the dining room, watching as one of the two tables got up. Maria wished them good night as they left, and she continued to clean up the foyer.

"What do you want?" you finally asked, your eyes flicking back to him.

"I just told you," he said, his voice taking on a menacing tone. "I want a cup of coffee and I want to talk to my fucking wife."

You took a shaky breath in and reached down below the counter for a mug. This was the Patrick you were used to.

"And then you'll go?"

His eyes narrowed at you and his jaw ticked to the side, but eventually he nodded.

"Yeah. And then I'll go."

Your hand trembled as you picked up the coffee pot and filled a mug. Turning back around, you stepped forward and placed the cup in front of him, realizing a moment too late that you were within arms length of him, but fortunately he didn't do anything. Hurriedly, you stepped backwards a few feet, creating some distance.

His eyes slowly lifted up from the steaming mug as he stared at you, something sinister flickering behind his eyes. Something that sent a shiver down your spine and made your heart begin beating twice as fast.

"You-"

He stopped himself as he clenched his fists and took a deep breath, then tried again.

"You fucking whore."

Your eyes widened and you stumbled back, your shoulder blades knocking against the behemoth of a coffee machine. Sweat was beginning to accumulate at the base of your skull as your fear spiked.

Patrick stood up from his stool and beckoned you forward. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the last table get up to leave and part of you was relieved. At least whatever was going to happen wouldn't involve innocent customers.

His face was growing hot as he beckoned you forward again, accidentally knocking the coffee over with a clatter, the dark liquid trailing like a lazy river down the counter. And this time, you shook your head.

"I fucking smell him on you, you slut!" he growled lowly, anger and fury lacing every word.

You gasped, your hands coming up to clamp over your mouth as tears began to cloud your vision.

"There a problem here?"

Both of you jumped when Tommy's voice rang out from somewhere next to you.

"No, there's no problem," Patrick said, unphased by Tommy's presence. "Just trying to talk to my wife, do you mind?"

"Actually, I do. Pretty sure you ain't allowed to be around her right now," Tommy said, taking a step forward, almost standing between you now. Maria's head popped up from a booth when she heard the tone in Tommy's voice and she quickly made her way to the hostess stand, picking up the phone and dialing.

"Pretty sure that's none of your fucking business," Patrick sneered, eyeing Tommy up and down. "The fuck you gonna do about it?"

"Call the police, for one," Tommy quipped, and Patrick scoffed.

"Oh, your sheriff? That motherfu-" Patrick's voice trailed off as he froze, his eyes going round as he actually stumbled backwards, his gaze fixed on something behind you both. When you turned around, you found Thor was standing quietly right behind you, staring Patrick down. Quite literally, as he towered over him by a good five or six inches.

Thor placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, urging you to the side so he could step forward.

"You wanna try that again, boy?" Thor asked, his voice taking on a tone you never heard from him before.

"You got guard dogs now? How many men in this town are you fucking?" Patrick shouted, craning his neck to try to look at you, but Tommy stepped forward again, blocking his view.

"She's one of our own. We don't take too kindly to people talkin' to one of us like that around here," Tommy said, squaring his jaw.

"Jesus Christ," Patrick muttered, then huffed out a disbelieving laugh before glancing around the dining room. He realized his options were limited, so he began to back away.

"Fine. I'll leave," he said, looking at Thor and holding his palms up in defeat.

"Good idea," Tommy said, still not moving until Patrick slowly backed up towards the doors, trying and failing to think of one more jab to get in before he disappeared. Maria quickly locked the doors and twisted around, eyes wide.

"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, rushing towards you. "I had no idea, I didn't know what he looked like-"

"It's okay," you said, waving her off and sagging against the counter, your body suddenly feeling weak.

"I called the station, Bobby will be here in a minute. Let's take you to the office so you can have some privacy."

Maria wrapped her arm around your shoulder, turning you towards the kitchen, but just as you were about to walk through the door, you stopped and turned around to look at Thor and Tommy.

"Thank you," you whispered, your bottom lip trembling. They both looked at you, Tommy waving you off with a smile, about to say something, but Thor unexpectedly spoke up.

"Don't need to thank us. Like he said, you're one of us now. We look out for each other."

You were pretty sure even Tommy was surprised by the amount of words Thor said at once because he slowly turned his head to look up at him in shock.

You gave Thor a small smile and nodded before letting Maria lead you to the back.

"When do you think I'll have a shift where we don't have to get the police involved?" you asked Maria, and she chuckled. It had been about twenty minutes and the adrenaline was wearing off. You were beginning to feel more like yourself again, more at ease. Maybe having people in your life know the truth wasn't actually a bad thing. You felt safe. You felt protected. And most of all, you felt like you belonged. But you also felt an unshakable cloud of guilt and fear. Guilt for dragging innocent people into your drama, and fear that Patrick won't back down so easily next time someone tries to stand up for you.

"To be fair, the Marcus thing could have happened to any one of us. You just got lucky that day."

You laughed and leaned your head against the wall.

"Yeah, guess you're right."

There was a soft knock on the office door and Maria stood to open it. You rolled your head to the side then straightened up when Joel walked in, looking frazzled and shaken up with the curls on top of his head messier than usual, most likely from his fingers anxiously combing through them.

His eyes locked onto you immediately and you could tell he was holding back. His hands fidgeted at his sides as he fought the urge to pull you into his arms. He glanced back and forth between you and Maria before clearing his throat.

"Sarah's out front. I didn't tell her what happened, didn't wanna scare her. D'you mind-"

"Of course not," Maria said, already understanding what he needed. "I'll take her in the back, let her pick out a dessert or two."

"Thank you," Joel said, waiting until she walked away before he shut the door and turned back to you.

"I'm so sorry," he said, quickly stepping forward to wrap his arms around you. You sighed, your arms draping around his neck as you leaned into his chest, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent. Your muscles instantly relaxed in his hold, your mind went blank and all of your worries, the guilt and the fear, began to drift away.

"I'm okay," you murmured into his shirt, but he just squeezed you tighter.

"I shoulda been here."

"You can't be here all the time, Joel," you said, leaning back to look up at him. "I know you want to do it all, and it's so sweet, but it's impossible." You reached up to cup his face, your thumb rubbing across his stubbled cheek gently. His eyes were still filled with worry, so you stretched up on your tiptoes, brushing your lips softly against his. He responded quickly, lips massaging yours before he pulled away all too soon. He let his forehead rest against yours and sighed heavily, his arms still holding you flush against him.

"I got three cars out lookin' for him. We'll find him and toss him back in jail."

You nodded, your eyes closed as you leaned against him, perfectly content to stay that way until your legs gave out.

"'Til we find him, you shouldn't be alone. Tommy said you could stay with them, or you could stay with me." He tried to keep the hope out of his voice, wanting you to make your choice without his influence, but he desperately hoped you would take him up on his offer.

"I-" you paused, eyes still closed, guilt slowly swelling back up in your chest. "Maybe we shouldn't confuse Sarah," you finally decided to say, and you felt his shoulders slump under your arms.

He wanted to argue with you, wanted to convince you to stay with him, but he didn't. He didn't say anything. He just nodded and stepped back. When your arms slid down from around his neck, he caught your wrist and brought it to his mouth, pressing a warm kiss against your pulse before letting you go.

You stared at one another for a long moment, so many things you both wanted to say, but couldn't.

A sudden trill filled the room. An upbeat tune playing from deep within his pocket. He slid his hand down to pluck out his phone from his pants, his thumb sliding over the screen before answering.

"Yeah?"

You took a step back and crossed your arms over your chest, watching as his eyes drifted around the office while he listened to whoever was on the other end of the call. He stared blankly at some old bankers boxes filled with receipts underneath the desk as he nodded along, his thumb coming up to rub anxiously against his lower lip.

As the phone call continued, with Joel only giving brief answers, you heard a knock at the door. You cracked it open then pushed it further when you saw Tommy waiting on the other side. He stepped into the small space, his mouth open about to ask Joel a question until he realized he was on the phone, then turned to you, instead.

"Any luck?"

"I don't think so," you said, shaking your head.

"We got a spare room, you can stay with us tonight. If you want, that is," Tommy offered awkwardly. You gave him a tight smile in return.

"Yeah, I - if you don't mind, that would be great."

Just as Tommy was about to answer, Joel turned around to face you both, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

"Can't find him," he said, trying to mask the frustration he was feeling, but you could see the muscles in his neck tense.

"Why don't you take her back to her place so she can get some things, then drop her off at our house? I'll take Sarah, you can pick her up when you come by. I'll make somethin' up 'bout a burst pipe or whatever," Tommy suggested, and again you could see Joel's exasperation seeping through as his eyes shifted back and forth between you and his brother, but he eventually agreed.

Joel drove you back to your apartment in silence. It was only a few minute drive, but it felt like it was an hour. So many things swirled around in your head, words sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn't get them out. You were beginning to feel like a burden. You were asking so much of him and this poor town. The guilt was weighing you down, suffocating you, and you wished you had just run again when you had the chance, but then his hand slid across the console and his fingers brushed against yours and your selfishness won. You allowed his fingers to lace together with yours as his eyes remained focused on the road, looking for a parking spot and again, the words were right there. I need you. I hate that I'm so much trouble. I'm sorry.

"Alright," Joel said, pulling his hand back and cutting the engine. "I had one of my guys drive by earlier, but just in case, I'm goin' in first. You wait for me at the bottom of the stairs, door locked behind you til I come and get you. Got it?"

Only when you quickly nodded did he allow you to exit the truck. You stayed behind him as he approached your door, giving the knob and experimental twist before reaching his hand back towards you, waiting for your keys. You fumbled for a moment and handed him the correct one.

The door had been locked. You just assumed everything would be fine, but you would soon find out you were wrong.

You stood at the bottom of the stairs like you promised, watching as Joel walked up the steps, pulling his gun out only once he reached the top, then disappeared into your kitchen. You shifted your weight nervously, lower lip pulling between your teeth as your ears strained to try to figure out where he was. The place was very small, it shouldn't take that long. After several minutes without a sound, your curiosity got the better of you.

"Joel?" you called up quietly, and you finally saw the shadow of his frame darken the doorway before he appeared and looked down at you, his face unreadable.

"It's clear, but..." he trailed off, his eyes casting over his shoulder before looking down at you again. "He was here."

"What?" you asked, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "But the door-"

"I dunno," Joel said with a sigh before pulling his phone out and dialing a number. "Maybe he made a copy of your key or somethin'."

You shakily sat down on the bottom step, his words repeating over and over in your head. How could you be so stupid? Have you learned nothing? He could have killed you and these locks wouldn't have done a damn thing.

You vaguely heard Joel talking to one of his men over the phone, presumably asking whoever had stopped by your place earlier if there was anything suspicious that jumped out at him, but it didn't matter now. Just when you thought he couldn't violate you any more, he did. He had been in your space. In your safe haven. What did he do?

"Joel?" you called out again, standing up and leaning forward. You wanted to obey him and stay at the bottom of the stairs like you promised, but you needed to see what Patrick did. Joel was still talking on the phone, unable to hear you, so instead of calling out again, you went up. When you walked through the doorway, you gasped.

All of your plates, glasses, mugs, dishware were shattered in tiny pieces all over the kitchen floor. Cupboards were left open, food was poured all over the countertops, spilling down the wood cabinet doors and mixing with broken glass on the floor.

You kept your shoes on and tiptoed into the living room where you heard Joel's voice speaking lowly into the phone. You covered your mouth as you looked around the room. The few plants you had were smashed, dirt was spewed and ground into the old carpet. Books were flung onto the floor, some pages even ripped out, and the couch was turned upside down, thrown against the wall. You barely even noticed the TV was lying on its side, the screen smashed, because you were fixated on the holes punched and kicked into the walls, pieces of plaster and dust piled up on the floor under each one.

Eventually, you must have made a noise because Joel swiveled around to look at you.

"I'll call you back," he said into the phone, and hung up before rushing over to you. "I told you to wait downstairs."

"I know, but -" you lost your voice, unable to continue. Your whole life was in this apartment, and now it was destroyed. How long did it take? Minutes? An hour? Was that really all it took to pick up your entire world and shake it like a snow globe?

"It's just stuff," he said, trying to reassure you. "It can all be replaced. You can't be replaced, though. You hear me?"

You looked up at him, tears already streaming down your face. His eyes softened and he sighed before pulling you against his chest, his strong hands wrapping themselves around your middle, cradling your head against his pounding heart as you sobbed.

"What am I going to do?" you wondered out loud, your voice muffled against his shirt.

"Stay with me."

He felt you stiffen in his arms and he looked down at you.

"Please. I'd feel better if you stayed with me. Just until we find him, okay?"

"Okay," you agreed, trying not to show your relief but you already felt safer just knowing you would be under his watch that night. You still worried about Sarah, but you would make sure she knew you were sleeping on the couch. You refused to complicate Joel's life any further than you already had.

"Okay," he repeated, his voice soft. He leaned back and swiped a thumb over your cheek, drying your tears. "Let's see if we can get any of your clothes. Then we'll go get Sarah and go home."

Home.

You nodded and let him lead you to your bedroom, grabbing a tote bag from your small closet as you began to rifle through your dresser drawers.

Patrick had tossed your clothes around your room, but they didn't look like they were destroyed. It probably would have taken too long, you realized, as you packed a bag with whatever you could think of, ignoring how your comforter and sheets were piled at the foot of your bed, the strong smell of urine emanating from your mattress. When you stood up, you noticed for the first time the stuffed penguin Joel had won for you was torn in half, white fluffy stuffing spilling out in a corner of your room.

Choking back a sob, you walked towards the bathroom, but Joel reached out to stop you.

"What d'you need? I'll get it."

"What do you mean?" you asked, giving him a confused look as you wiped your nose on the back of your hand. "Why can't I -"

"Just tell me what you need and I'll grab it for you," he said, not allowing you to ask the question. You stared at him, trying to figure out what could possibly be worse than urine on your bed. When neither of you budged, you brushed past him and flicked on the light.

You only paused for a moment, Joel standing right behind you as you read the words repeatedly scrawled all over the mirror and walls with the few lipsticks you owned. Whore. Slut. Badge Bunny. Cunt.

You swallowed and looked down, averting your gaze to focus on packing your toiletries as quickly as you could. You heard Joel say your name softly from the doorway, but you ignored him and continued to throw things into your bag - shampoo, toothbrush, whore, face wash, slut, hair brush, deodorant.

A chill went down his spine as he watched your face harden and your eyes glaze over. Memories of how you pulled away from him in the past came creeping back: the cologne, the robbery, your marriage... Patrick, and everything he's done. He couldn't let you slip through his fingers again.

"I'm ready," you said numbly, pushing past him and heading to the door.

Joel followed you outside, making sure to lock up after, although you could hardly see the point, with what little belongings you had left clutched in your hand.

He jumped into the driver's seat and started the truck, glancing sideways at you, trying to figure out what to say to give you some comfort, but he was coming up empty.

"He knows," you said after a few painfully silent minutes. Joel flicked his gaze to you quickly before focusing back on the road, immediately knowing what you meant.

"How-"

"He said he could smell you on me," you told him, refusing to look at him as shame coursed through your veins.

Joel flinched. Now he was reading those words on your wall differently. Now he knew Patrick wrote those things because of him, and it made him feel sick.

"Did you say anythin'?"

"No," you said, shaking your head, still staring out your window. "Of course not."

"Good," he said. "That's... good. I mean-" he glanced over at you again, stumbling over his words. "Not good, it just-"

"I know what you're trying to say, Joel," you said quietly.

He tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh as another tense silence filled the truck.

"I'll have someone go over in the mornin', process the scene so we can press additional charges," he said, breaking the quiet. You just continued to stare out the window, exhausted.

"How will you prove it was even him?"

"DNA," was all Joel said, and you closed your eyes. You refused to give the situation any more tears, so you forced them back and opened your eyes, resting your forehead against the glass as Joel drove the short distance to Tommy and Maria's house.

"Why don't you just stay here and I'll go talk to Tommy?" Joel suggested, unbuckling his seatbelt as he turned to look at you. You stared straight ahead and gave him a slight nod.

He scanned your face, wishing he could see you smile again. He reached a hand over and gently squeezed your thigh, finally pulling your gaze off the dashboard and onto him. He hated that look in your eye. A distant, sad, hopeless look that made him want to comb through the whole town until he found Patrick so he could break every bone in his worthless fucking body.

"You're okay," he whispered, lifting his hand off your leg and sweetly pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger.

You forced a small smile, but it didn't reach your eyes. You took his hand in both of yours and brought his knuckles to your lips, closing your eyes as you kissed the back of his hand before pressing it into your soft cheek, and he felt a modicum of relief.

"I'm just tired," you said quietly, hoping that would placate him enough for the time being.

After about fifteen minutes, you saw Joel and Sarah exit Tommy's front door, her backpack slung over one shoulder, still clad in a soccer uniform. You hadn't realized she had a game that night, and you hoped the game had at least ended before Joel dragged her away to come to your rescue because you couldn't stomach ruining one more person's night.

He must have told Sarah you were in the car because she wasn't surprised to see you when she opened the door to the back of the cab.

"Your apartment's wrecked, huh?" she asked as she buckled her seatbelt. You looked at her, surprised, as Joel twisted around in his seat.

"We told her 'bout the burst pipe," he said, making sure to hold eye contact with you until you nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, it's a mess. Thanks for letting me crash with you," you said, turning to give her a smile. She grinned and nodded.

"It'll be fun. Can we do movie night tomorrow instead of Saturday, Dad?"

"It's a school night-"

"Please! Dad, please! She might not be here on Saturday," she whined.

Joel sighed and rubbed his eyes as he waited for a streetlight to turn green. You could tell he was exhausted, too, so you turned back towards Sarah to try to help.

"Tell you what. If I'm back in my apartment by Saturday, I'll still come by for movie night. Deal?"

Sarah thought it over for a moment before nodding.

"Deal."

Satisfied, she sat back in her seat and hummed along to the radio as she gazed out the window. Joel tilted his face towards you and mouthed thank you, and you smiled in return before looking out your own window.

You weren't sure what you expected when you saw Joel's house, but once you saw it, you could tell it was undeniably his. It was a remodeled two-story white farmhouse. There wasn't much in the way of decor, but what he did have was simple and tasteful. There were framed family photos that littered the mantle and bookcase, and the sparse art that hung on the walls were mostly landscapes. It just felt like him. Rustic, homey, and comfortable.

The light fixtures in the kitchen were dated, and the cupboards looked old, but in true Joel fashion, everything worked. Everything was taken care of. Not a single loose handle, squeaky hinge or burnt-out lightbulb in the place.

It was just after ten at night by the time the three of you arrived home. Joel urged Sarah to go get ready for bed while he walked down the small hallway to grab some linens from the downstairs bathroom. He dropped them on the couch and pointed up the stairs, where Sarah had just disappeared.

"You can have my bedroom, I'll take the couch. Lemme show you-"

"I can't let you do that, I'll sleep on the couch," you insisted, taking a step towards the living room but he wrapped his arm around you and pulled your back against his chest, his nose getting buried in your hair. You sighed and melted against him, weak and completely drained.

"Want you safe and sound in my bed. Please," he murmured against your ear. "I won't be able to sleep otherwise." You didn't have the strength to argue.

"Joel?" you whispered, your eyes closed as you relaxed into him further, letting him lightly sway you side to side as he nuzzled the back of your neck.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. For... everything."

You wished you could put your gratitude into words, but everything you thought to say didn't seem like nearly enough.

"Don't want you to thank me," he mumbled before taking a deep breath. "But can you promise me somethin'?"

You frowned and turned around in his arms so you could look at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Don't shut me out, okay?" he asked softly, his fingers caressing your cheek. "I want you to talk to me, tell me what's goin' on in there," he said, gently tapping the side of your head. "No matter what it is, just... talk to me."

"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling guilty, yet again. "I'm just not used to having anyone."

"You got me now, okay?" he said, giving you a quick kiss and then pulling back when he heard the water turn off in the bathroom above your heads. "I ain't goin' anywhere."

You gave him a small smile and took his hand as he led you upstairs. He made it crystal clear that the two of you were sleeping apart as he showed you his room, knowing that Sarah would have heard from the other side of the bathroom door. But before he left, a pair of pajamas in one hand and a pillow in the other, he gave you one more kiss, letting his lips linger until he heard Sarah flick the bathroom light off.

"You know where I am if you need me," he said, his voice once again a little louder than usual, for Sarah's benefit. He winked at you and shut the door, leaving you all alone in his bedroom.

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #sheriff!joel #STR fic #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal

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ja3yun · 2 months

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Melting Point | P.SH | Ch.3

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: angst, smut (mdni), oral (f. rec), protected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, cum eating, it's the dirtiest smut I've written, sexual harassment**, violence, mentions of blood, anything else lmk! ch.3 synopsis: to get sunghoon off your mind, your friends suggest tagging along to a party, but things don't go as planned and you're driven closer to sunghoon than ever before. wc: 16.8k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! i have decided to give you this all early since i finished the editing early. it's actually my birthday tomorrow so i won't have time to finalise it, please take this as my gift to you! thank you for the love on the last few chapters, it means so much that you are enjoying it, and as always, comments, likes, and feedback are always appreciated! **the sexual harassment scene is small but as it can make people uncomfortable, i have put <*> before and after the scene! (this is also the only scene in the whole fic like this just fyi!) yn explains what happened with little detail later on so you won't miss anything by skipping it!

For the past week, you've been engulfed in misery. It's as though you're trapped in a downward spiral, confined to your bed while your hair tangles into knots.

A massive part of your despair was the aching in your chest from pondering what could have been, the unknown of if you ended something that could have bloomed into something wonderful. You had never felt like this before, not through any of your situationships or even that one failed relationship when you were 16 and thought they were the one.

Adding to your distress is the burden of deceiving your brother about the situation. Minhee came to check in on you every day to make sure you were okay. Of course, you didn’t tell him you were going through emotional turmoil, simply portraying the act of a sickly Victorian child who was too poor to leave the bed. He bought it at the beginning but now you can see him starting to question your sneeze’s authenticity.

Still, he was there looking after you, bringing you your favourite Lucozade and going all away across town for that vegetable soup you loved. Why did he have to be so nice?

Currently, your room has been infiltrated by Allen and Rina. You haven’t messaged them or attended Uni since last Thursday and Rina being the overdramatic friend she is, came barging into your room, wearing all black to ‘mourn the time lost between you’. She wasn’t exactly enthralled by your reasoning for the lack of communication.

"So you're telling me," she exclaimed, flinging herself onto your bed, "that you, my best, most cherished friend, couldn't even bother to message me because of some guy?" her words hit you like a slap, "And not just any guy, but one you've barely spent, what, nine hours with?"

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as her words ring true; you have been wallowing over someone you hardly know, "So what if you slept with him? He's just a man, Y/N. Men are easily replaceable!" Allen shoots his girlfriend a sceptical glance, but she disregards him entirely.

You can't argue with her logic; you know how absurd it must sound to everyone else, "It's not just him, Rina," you murmur, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you, "it's Minhee too."

"Minhee's always been protective of you, especially when it comes to your flings," Rina interjects, her tone softened slightly, "Allen, back me up on this." Her boyfriend hesitates for a moment before reluctantly nodding in agreement, "She has got a point, Y/N," he admits, shrugging apologetically.

Burying your head into your hands you groan loudly, almost verging on a scream, “You guys didn’t see him when he thought I only got a lift from him, he was all like ‘If you two are dating I’ll tear him limb from limb’ it was so scary,” you recount the scene from last week with Minhee, though judging by their reactions, you realize you're failing to convey just how serious he appeared, "He sees Sunghoon as his arch-nemesis! And I slept with him! And I want to do it again!"

“Y/N, babe, it is not that fucking serious he isn’t Batman and Sunghoon isn’t Penguin.”

"Wait, isn't Batman's arch-rival the Joker?" Allen interjects, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Allen, really? Now's not the time for comic book trivia," Rina scolds, shaking her head. "But my point remains," she continues, sitting up and clasping your hands in hers, "I promise you, Minhee won't lose it just because you're involved with Sunghoon." You're at a loss for words, partly because she makes a valid point about Minhee's dramatic tendencies, and if Rina is calling you out for being dramatic, you know it must be true.

Allen walks over to you and sits on the floor beside your bed, placing a hand on your knee “I think the best thing for you, Y/N, is just to leave it. Don’t get involved between them, just-”

“Find someone else!” Rina shouts, pouncing up like a tiger ready to attack, “Baby, you’re a genius! Y/N, we need to find you some at the party tonight!” As quick as a flash, she’s in your wardrobe looking for an outfit, flinging stuff behind her to clear her view, “You need something so diabolically sexy it’ll have every man’s dick standing to attention.” Your best friend always had a way of describing things.

Looking down at Allen you see his sorry expression but you don’t mind, Rina has always been like this since you were little, always full of life and vibrant. She has been your best friend since she asked you to eat a worm in primary 2 to enter her secret club, one eaten worm, and a trip to the medical room because you vomited said worm right back up later, you were inseparable. You weren’t a quiet person but with her around you might as well have been a mouse next to a lion, and you loved her for it.

"What party?" you inquire, looking at the chaos in your room that you'll inevitably have to clean up later. "I haven't heard of any parties happening on campus tonight." Being Rina's best friend definitely had its perks, as her popularity ensured invitations to every cliche social event.

"There's a party on the other side of town at Yeonjun's house, and all the hottest hockey players are going to be there," Rina announces with excitement, twirling around as she brandishes an ivory white cami dress with ruffled detailing on the straps and bust. How did she even find that? The last time you wore it was three years ago to your brother's 17th birthday party.

"Rina, I wore that when I was 16. It's not going to fit anymore. Bodies change, you know, and thankfully, my boobs have gotten bigger since then," you protest, trying to reason with her.

Blowing out air, Rina throws it at you with force whacking you in the face with it, “Squeeze into it. We’re going and you’re wearing that with those nice black Naked Wolfe dupes you got from Pretty Little Thing.” With no room to argue you fold it up in your arms.

“Since when did we go to Choi's parties? Didn’t he reject you and you swore to never to even breathe the same air again?” Rina had the biggest crush on Yeonjun but when she asked him to take her on a date he flat out said no and with zero explanation. Rina doesn’t take no for an answer so when it was a brutal rejection like that, she was on the warpath to make him regret it, it got so bad you had to physically stop her from signing him up to the Army.

Still rifling through your closet, Rina finds the boots and a matching leather jacket. "Yeah, well, I've matured," she quips with a mischievous grin.

“She’s going to use me to make it clear that she’s over him, which is right isn’t it babe, you’re over him.” Bless Allen, Rina did truly love him and there wasn’t a more perfect fit for her, but even he knew she couldn’t let a grudge go. Nodding her head she agrees, shining a wide grin to her very understanding and loving boyfriend.

One day you’ll find someone like Allen.

Rina gives you a time limit of 2 hours to get ready as she runs home with Allen to get changed herself. Parties are great, they’re fun and you can forget everything for a night, get drunk, and make terrible decisions to mask the ones you’ve already made. You haven’t been to any parties other side of town so this is the one time to undoubtedly let loose and embarrass yourself. It was in Sunghoon’s territory though, but he never goes to parties so you’re safe from the awkwardness of bumping into him.

Right on time, Rina and Allen are outside in a Lyft, the driver honking you down. You do one last check of your hair and makeup which you did to match the weird Bride of Chucky aesthetic Rina has set out, it’s not anything amazing, just some eyeliner and straight hair but you do look good.

“You can do this Y/N.” Whispering encouragement to yourself before you run downstairs. Minhee was out with friends and your mum was off galovanting somewhere, so you didn’t have to worry about them asking why you’re suddenly fit as a fiddle.

Tonight you have one job - to forget about Sunghoon and let your mind be free of any thoughts.

____

Arriving at the party, it’s already kind of busy, enough people that you have to weave your way through the hallway and into the living area which has now become overrun with loud Uni students. Everyone dresses up so nicely in this part of the city, it’s like you walked straight into Paris with how glamorous everyone looks. It makes you feel a little inferior but that can change with a few double vodkas and too many tequila roses.

Yeonjun's shared house is a bit chaotic but undeniably spacious, which means it takes you a bit of time to locate the booze amidst the clutter. The occupiers of the house, all members of the Albion Hockey Team, are part of the reason Sunghoon ended up skating at Belmore, and by extension, part of the reason you're now on a mission to drink their place dry.

As you step into the kitchen to pour yourself something, Rina beats you to it, already lining up some plastic neon shot glasses.

Looking around, you see a few potential boys you could harmlessly flirt with, none of them as pretty as Sunghoon, but no one could ever be, you haven’t seen anyone as ethereal as him since you were a little 7-year-old girl.

But tonight isn’t about him, well it is, but it’s about forgetting how perfectly his hair falls on his face, or how his eyebrows are so gorgeously thick and dark, and those freckles that are scattered on his face in all the right places are just perfect to kiss, and how his cock was the only one that made you feel satisfied, and ho-

“See anyone you like?” Rina’s voice thankfully rips you from your thoughts, pushing a shot into one of your hands and a pint glass of something in the other. Hurriedly, you down your shot and chase it with what now you know is a quadruple vodka and orange Breezer; the measurements Rina poured were always lethal like Majorca party strip-type measurements. Allen is close behind her, clinging to her just like she loves her men to do, but he is looking around with you, assessing from a man’s perspective.

Pointing sneakily to one guy with puppy dog eyes, you say to Rina, “He looks good and dependable, and his lips are nice.”

“Y/N, who the fuck cares about ‘dependable’ you are looking for someone to fuck the name Sunghoon out of your brain.” Rina declares bluntly, earning a pinch from Allen's warning grip as he shoots her a look, silently urging her to be more supportive in your time of need. "Okay, okay, how about we just get drunk and see who comes up to you? In that outfit, you'll have them lining up," she amends, holding her cup out for cheers. Allen nods in agreement, joining in the toast.

Not even an hour later, you’ve already misplaced your jacket and the dress you had to suck yourself into is hugging you tightly as your stomach bloats from how much alcohol you’ve consumed in a short amount of time. Despite your typically high tolerance, you find yourself more intoxicated than ever, swaying to the music blaring from various Alexas scattered throughout the house. The party has swelled in size, with unfamiliar faces outnumbering the familiar ones. Yet, you can't shake the feeling of being watched, though you can't pinpoint the source.

With a cup in your hand, you stretch up and move your hips to the music but it isn’t on time, you might as well be playing one of those ‘Guess who isn’t listening to the same music’ games, but you don’t care.

A hand runs itself down your back, stopping just above your ass but you don’t stop dancing. The mystery body starts to move along with you, his groyne making its way to your backside and pressing it in so you unconsciously grind on it. You’re so far gone you don’t register it until his breath is on your neck. Turning around, you meet a set of prowling eyes that instils uneasiness.

‘This is your chance to forget about Sunghoon though’ you argue with yourself. It’s not the right call and you know it but if you disregarded the weird feeling you got from him, he was genuinely handsome, tall and burley, clearly on the hockey team, and if romance books taught you anything it’s that hockey players could fuck really good.

“Hey," he smirks, his arms encircling you as his hands find their way to your rear, giving it a firm squeeze, "You look too sexy to be on your own. Who did you come with? A boyfriend?" His question seems calculated, an attempt to gauge your receptiveness, though you doubt the presence of a boyfriend would deter him in the slightest.

“I came with friends,” You try your best to play along. Rina was right, all you have to do is have a good fuck and you’ll forget about Sunghoon, not feel guilty about lying to Minhee, and everything should sort itself out…right?

Clearly, your answer pleased him because the lack of mention of a boyfriend had him giving your butt a harsh squeeze, “Why don’t you dance with me then, since they’ve ditched you.” He was a sleaze, that much was obvious but it was just a fuck at the end of the day, a one-night thing to prove that any man can give you what Sunghoon can.

So you throw caution to the wind and dance with him, trying to enjoy the way his hands are groping all over your body. He doesn’t get girls outside of parties because no man who knows how to feel a woman would be grabbing like this but those tequila roses are doing a great job at helping you not give a flying fuck right now.

Rina spots you when she comes hand in hand with Allen into the makeshift dance area and looks a little worried but you wave her off, signalling to her that you’re fine. Accepting your dismissal, she grabs Allen and takes him somewhere low-key.

<*>

Roughly 20 minutes later, the boy before you leans down, his lips on your ear, “Let’s go upstairs.” His breath blowing into your ear makes you cringe but nod and follow him as he practically drags you up the carpeted staircase and into the first empty room he finds. It doesn’t take long before his body pins you to the wall, his hands sliding up your 2 sizes too small dress already trying to get your underwear off. He wasn’t kind, or gentle, it was rough and barbarian.

Once he rids you of your pants, leaving them pooled around your ankles, he slides his finger up to your entrance, not even waiting before plunging into you mercilessly, “I’m going to have so much fun with you.” His voice sends a shiver up your spine, and not in a good way. Was this such a good idea? This isn’t what you imagined.

As he continues his attack on your hole you realise you aren’t getting any pleasure from this at all, in fact, it’s making you miss Sunghoon more. He was so attentive and caring about making you feel good and this guy is just fingering you to make sure his cock will fit. He didn’t need to bother opening you up if the imprint of him you felt when dancing was anything to go by.

The guy isn’t even kissing you, just staring at the wall behind him trying to make this quick. You need to stop this, you don’t feel good being here with him, “Uhm, I think my friends are shouting for me.” It was a pathetic excuse but hopefully, he would get the message and get off of you.

"I didn't hear anything," he dismisses, adding a second finger and increasing the pressure, causing discomfort akin to a carpet burn. His indifference only adds to your unease, and when you hear him unzipping his trousers, panic sets in.

You have mere seconds to escape this horrifying scenario. Your mind races through options, but it's clear asking him nicely won't work. With a surge of desperation, you attempt to push him away, pleading, "Really, I should go."

"Don't be a fucking tease. I put in the work," he growls, moving his weight to crush you even tighter against the wall, making escape impossible. Regret floods your mind as you realise you should have trusted your instincts about him. You should have listened to your gut, you knew he was horrible and yet you didn’t listen. A woman’s instinct is always right so why did you betray yours now?

The gears are turning in your head. Think. Your teary eyes widen and you gasp inward, doing all you can do in the situation - kick him in the balls. In a split second, you act on impulse and deliver a stinging knee to his exposed groyne. The contact sends him flying to the ground in agony.

Seizing the opportunity, you hastily adjust your underwear and flee the room, your heart racing with adrenaline and revulsion at what nearly happened.

<*>

Feeling icky and in desperate need to go home, you look for two things, Rina and your jacket; if you find your jacket first, you can phone Rina and get the fuck out of here.

Roaming around the house you see the familiar leather jacket hanging on the back of a dining room chair, all your belongings still there, thank the heavens. Unlocking your phone you dial Rina’s number but she doesn’t answer, she’s nowhere to be found in this massive place because she’s probably sucking off Allen somewhere. Shit.

As you frantically flip through your contacts, your thumb hesitates over Minhee's name. If you called him, you would never hear the end of it and it wouldn’t just be Sunghoon he would forbid you from seeing but literally any of the outside world that wasn’t school or the rink. But desperate times call for desperate measures so you scurry outside into the cold, trying to sober up a little before phoning him to pick you up.

But there's no answer from Minhee. He's probably out celebrating Jungmo's birthday with his friends, too intoxicated to even consider coming to your aid. Why did you even entertain the thought? Now he'll worry because he missed your call, you realise with a pang of guilt.

Crafting a flimsy excuse in a text message, you attempt to play it off as a casual check-in, hoping to alleviate any concern he might have.

A bolt of panic jolts through your back as you hear the guy from earlier’s voice bellowing down the stairs, calling you every name under the sun. If he found you, you don’t know what he would do, so you hide behind a group of people in the front garden, trying to blend in. Shakily, you scroll through your apps trying to find any taxi service that would come ASAP, but of course, everyone and their gran is trying to get home so as you try to book a ride the max wait time is 40 minutes.

Crumbling to the ground you sob, you just want to get away from here, you want Rina or Allen to come to find you, you want to feel safe again. You want Sunghoon.

Sunghoon. He lives on this side of town. Could you have the gall to ask him to come rescue you after you basically left him in the dust? You stand up, fixing your hair and dress, and wiping your tears away as if he can see you and hit call, “This is a bad idea, Y/N. He won’t eve-”

“Hello?” He picked up within 2 rings, not even long enough to finish your inner monologue.

Hearing his voice come through the phone makes your heart skip, you haven’t heard or seen him in a week but you would think it was years the way you choke up, “Y/N, It’s late. What do you want?”

“S-sorry I-,” You can’t get the sentence out before bawling to him on the phone, all the tears you’ve held in now overflowing tenfold. All the pent-up anguish and fear pour out, overwhelming you as you cling to the lifeline of Sunghoon's voice on the other end of the line. How can you possibly explain this to him? Even in your sober state, you doubt you could articulate the events of the evening - the desperation to forget him, the reckless decisions made in the name of distraction, the groping, it all sounds so foolish and shameful.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Talk to me.” His voice is flooded with concern and you hear him shuffle on the other end, “Sweets, please?” he drags out the please, begging you to cooperate with him. What you don’t know is he’s putting on trousers as you cry, ready to come get you before you even have the chance to ask him, “Are you out? Is that music?”

“I’m at Yeonjun’s party.” He tenses, feeling even more worried for you than before. He knows what that crew is like and if you, a well-assured girl who can most definitely handle herself is crying, that means something bad has happened, "I'm sorry, Hoonie. I shouldn't have called. It's just... the taxis are all too far away, and I can't find Rina, and I just really need to go home," you confess in a rush, the words tumbling out in a jumble of desperation and regret.

"I'm coming to get you. Stay there, and don't talk to anyone," Sunghoon commands, his voice firm with determination. Both of you feel the same palpitations of fear and concern, the only remedy being Sunghoon's swift arrival by your side. With a swift motion, he throws on his black hoodie and bolts out the door of his flat, ignoring his flatmate's bewildered inquiries. There's no time to waste - he needs to reach you as quickly as possible.

Sitting beside a couple making out, you lift your knees and cross your arms, tucking your face into the space you’ve created. How could you be so stupid? You’ve just created a bigger mess than this had to be.

Why couldn't you have just followed Allen's advice and left it alone? No grand plan to get over Sunghoon, just accepting the choice you made and moving on. Sure, you'd be miserable, but at least you wouldn't be freezing outside a house party in an unfamiliar side of town, surrounded by strangers. The laughter of partygoers echoes around you as you cry, feeling utterly exposed and humiliated. Every approaching figure sends a shiver of fear down your spine in case it’s him, causing you to recoil further into yourself.

Your mind is doing that thing that all women do in these situations and blaming yourself for what happened, it’s tricking you into thinking you asked for it because you followed him, but you didn’t know it was going to be like that, so degrading. You feel so weak, like a damsel in distress, this wasn’t you. Maybe you should have just walked home and dealt with it on your own.

There’s an engine in the distance and you pray to anyone that it’s Sunghoon. Headlights shine through the street and the car comes to a halt, tyres screeching as it emergency brakes. Looking up you see the 6-foot-tall boy you’ve been dying to see since last Thursday. Instantly, your body relaxes knowing you’re almost safe.

Sunghoon slams the door shut and charges up to the door, he almost walks into the party but you squeak out his name loud enough he notices you, “Y/N.” The way he says your name is like he’s both relieved and desolate.

Dropping down to his knees, Sunghoon pulls you closer, his touch gentle as he softly rubs your arms to keep you warm. It's clear from your dishevelled state that you're as drunk as a skunk.

He asks what happened, concern etched into every line of his face, but you can't find the strength to articulate it. Instead, you shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks unabated.

The vulnerability in your body language speaks volumes, but Sunghoon needs to know the specifics, "Please, tell me," he implores, his voice tinged with urgency and worry.

"This guy," you begin, wiping away tears as you struggle to compose yourself, "I was dancing, and he said we should go upstairs, so I did, and he..." A sob interrupts your explanation, tearing through your chest and escaping into the night air. You instinctively cover your mouth, as if trying to contain the anguish within.

After a few moments, you regain some semblance of composure and continue your slurred account. "He was touching me, which was fine at first, and then I didn't want him to anymore, and he..." The words catch in your throat, rendering you unable to finish the sentence.

Sunghoon's jaw clenches with restrained anger as he pieces it together, "Did he..." His voice trails off, the unspoken question hanging heavily between you. He doesn’t want to ask in fear of what your answer will be.

"No, I got out of there before he could," you assure him, relief evident in your voice.

Sunghoon's head falls onto your knees, relief washing over him knowing you escaped further harm, but anger simmers just beneath the surface. He wanted to commit every crime against this pervert because how dare he think he had any right to do that?

Sunghoon lifts his head back up, his eyes meeting yours and it breaks you a little because you basically just confessed to nearly fucking another man.

"You did so good, Sweets, getting away and calling me. So fucking good," he praises, his arms enveloping you in a tight embrace, offering whatever comfort he can summon. He knows that a mere hug won't erase the turmoil raging within you, but it's a start, "I'm so proud of you," he murmurs, his words a balm to your wounded soul, eliciting even more tears from you as you allow yourself to be held tightly.

The smell of him and the softness of his hoodie was all the feeling you needed earlier, that safety you begged for. Sunghoon strokes your back, laying a few kisses atop your head between intervals of his whispered reassuring words.

Leaning back to look at you, he takes his right thumb and wipes your tears away, “Let me get you out of here.” He wanted to ransack the party for the bastard that made you cry like this, but he fights himself against it, choosing to focus on you and your needs rather than his want to kick fuck out of that guy.

“Stand up for me, Sweets.” He holds you steady while you find your footing on the grass. Once he knows you’re okay and not going to drunkenly collapse back down, he fastens up your leather jacket and wraps an arm around your shoulder, guiding you to the safety of his car.

Just as he has calmed you down and you’re halfway down the front path, a venomous voice invades your ears and you tense under Sunghoon’s touch, giving him every indication of who it could be.

“There you are, gorgeous. Sorry, lad, this one’s taken.” He goes to grab you but Sunghoon blocks him and pushes him back, holding himself back from battering his lights out.

In shock, the guy glances at Sunghoon, his expression morphing into a mixture of disbelief and indignation. "Nah, this fucking cock tease owes me," he retorts, his tone dripping with contempt.

A heavy silence descends upon the scene as a crowd begins to emerge from the party, their murmurs mixing with the tension in the air. You catch snippets of conversation, people questioning Sunghoon's presence at a Choi party, knowing full well the history between him and Yeonjun.

Sunghoon and Yeonjun have had beef since they were in 3rd Year of High School after the ice skater found out Yeonjun snuck weed into his bag for a ‘joke’ and it consequently got him suspended from Skating until he proved himself through drug tests. It's a deep-seated grudge that neither of them has forgotten. Since then, he hasn’t stepped foot near Yeonjun or any of his friends.

Sunghoon steps up to the guy, staring him down. Your perpetrator might be built but Sunghoon is tall and way more intimidating, everyone can see that, “Say that again.” "Say that again," Sunghoon challenges, his voice laced with a quiet intensity, silently daring the guy to escalate the situation further. It's a dangerous game, and Sunghoon is teetering on the edge, desperate for an excuse to unleash his pent-up fury upon the guy who dared to harm you.

“That bitch is a fu-”

The garden erupts into chaos as Sunghoon's fist connects with the boy's face, the impact echoing through the air like a gunshot. The crowd gasps in shock, some scrambling to film the fight while others recoil in horror. With each blow, Sunghoon's rage intensifies, his fists raining down on his target with unrelenting force. There is no thought in his mind, only a primal instinct to protect you at all costs.

Blood gushes from the boy's nose and mouth, staining the grass crimson as he struggles to breathe due to the onslaught. He splurts out blood but that doesn’t stop Sunghoon as he shows no mercy, his relentless assault fueled by a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. The sheer power behind his punches threatens to shatter bones, each strike delivering a punishing blow that leaves his opponent battered and broken. You swear you hear cracks coming from the boy’s nose and jaw.

Rina and Allen run out to the commotion and watch as you try to stop him, “Hoonie, stop!” You scream as you stand still, not daring to get in the middle of it out of fear of catching a hit. Your words don’t stop him though, only making him angrier because he can hear the bubble in your throat from your tears. The boy below starts to appeal with him to stop too, not sure how much more he can take.

Pushing him forward, Rina signals for Allen to help but he’s also too scared to move, mimicking your ceased state but eventually she pushes him so hard he ends up in it anyway, grabbing Sunghoon by his hoodie to get him off. The helpful boy almost gets an elbow to the face but he swerves it.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch my girl again,” Sunghoon physically spits on him, pushing Allen off in the process.

My girl.

The words make your heart pound, even more than it already is due to the booze. Right now you should be terrified because Sunghoon just displayed about 10 red flags, but why are you not scared at all? He got so angry he nearly punched a man to death and you still feel completely safe even just being around him. Maybe it’s the fact that he’ll protect you so willingly.

Sunghoon shakes the blood from his hand, wiping some of it on his sweatpants before he finally faces you again, “Y/N…” He’s filled with anxiety that you’re petrified of him, of this protective side that even he didn’t know he possessed, “I-” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you pull him into a hug, your face nuzzling into his heaving chest. A mixture of missing him and feeling grateful for his act causes you to squeeze him so tight he can’t breathe.

Sunghoon hesitates for a moment before returning the embrace, holding you close, his heart pounding against yours in rhythm. Despite everything, in this moment, you find comfort in each other's arms, a silent understanding passing between you that transcends words.

He places a side kiss on your temple and looks at you, “I’ll take you to mine.”

“No, you won’t, are you crazy?” Rina’s voice pierces through the tense atmosphere, making you stumble back, but Sunghoon is there to catch you, his protective grip reassuring, “I am not letting my best friend go home with a psychopath.”

He scoffs, facing her with a hard expression and one arm still holding onto you, “Best friend? You mean the best friend you couldn’t even be bothered to stick with because you were fucking your shrimp of a boyfriend?”

Pinching him, you shake your head, you don’t want him to start bad-mouthing your friends just because he’s angry, it’s not their fault. He whispers a ‘sorry’, his bloody hand stroking the last of your tears away before he turns back to Rina, tone firm, “I am taking her home and you are going to cover for her if her family asks where she is in the morning, got it?” Without waiting for their response, he guides you towards his car, planting another kiss on your head before opening the door for you.

As he shuts the door behind you, he glances back at the scene he left behind with a small smirk, feeling a sense of vindication from getting a few hits against one of Yeonjun's lackeys. He gets in the driver's seat, putting the heating on and starting the car.

“I’m sorry, Sunghoon.” You mumble, appreciating the heat that's blowing your way as you start to get sleepy from all the adrenaline leaving you. He buckles your seatbelt for you, untwisting it for your comfort.

“Why are you apologising?” His tone is firm yet gentle, and you can sense the protectiveness in his words.

“For phoning you, for getting you into that mess, it’s my fault,” you explain, feeling the weight of responsibility heavy on your shoulders.

“Don’t,” Sunghoon interrupts, his grip on the steering wheel tightening, “Don’t apologise for any of this, none of this is your fault.”

Regaining some composure, he softly puts his hand on your thigh but you jump slightly, memories from the previous guy coming to the forefront of your brain. The reaction you have only fuels Sunghoon’s anger back up but before he gets back out of the car and finishes the job, he takes his hand off you and drives back to his place. Luckily he lives only 10 minutes away and with the roads being so quiet at this time, he blazes through it in 6 minutes.

In that small amount of time, you pass out, snoring slightly, the noise making Sunghoon smile. You were so cute when you slept, so peaceful like you didn’t have one care in the world. He wanted that for you. Always.

Pulling up to the street he parks his car half on the pavement and turns the ignition off, being careful to not wake you.

The biggest challenge he’ll face is getting you up the stairs to the front door but he manages to carry you bridal style up and into the house. His two flatmates Jay and Jake are perched on the couch the way he left them earlier. The look on their faces drops when they see blood and a passed-out girl, “Is she okay?” Jake asks.

Sunghoon hushes them and keeps walking, “She’s fine, Lee Heosun isn’t though.” Leaving it at that, he walks into his room with you and lays you down on his bed. Your dress looks tight and uncomfortable so he picks around his room for some clothes to change you into but all he has is a Metallica shirt and some boxers in his drawer, everything else either needs to be washed or is his skating gear.

He lays the makeshift pyjamas on the bed before trying to take your dress off gently but you’re wriggling against him, unconsciously fighting him so you can keep sleeping, “Sweets we need to get you changed.” You grumble and shake your head, you’re incoherent but causing Sunghoon issues when you try to kick him away, seeking the deep release of sleep, “Work with me here, baby,” he exhales, finally getting the zip of your dress down.

After that, it was easy enough to strip you naked and slip you into his t-shirt. He did try to get you to put on the boxers but you had enough by then, rolling over onto his bed and getting comfy, your ass is hanging out. Normally, Sunghoon would be thinking something crude but all he is thinking about is how someone else touched you.

He promises to himself he won’t let that happen ever again.

“M’sorry, Hoonie.” you muffle into his pillow.

Tucking you into bed he kisses your forehead lightly, “Stop apologising, Sweets and go to sleep for me.”

Tapping your lips, you indicate you want a kiss, which makes Sunghoon hesitate. Eventually, he sighs, giving in to your request. “Just one, okay?” he concedes, leaning in to kiss you softly. The warmth of his lips against yours comforts you and him. He missed your lips the past week and he wouldn’t do without your kisses again.

“He told me not to see you.” You say forcing him to stay close to you, stealing smooches as you talk.

“Who did?” Sunghoon asks, brows furrowing.

“Minhee.”

Ah, it all makes so much more sense to him now. It wasn’t just your brain turning over and over in your head; Minhee had actually warned you to stay away.

Sunghoon kisses you longingly once more before pulling the covers up to your chin, sending you off to sleep.

_____

There has to be one of those cymbal clapping monkeys in your head because as you groggily sit up, all you feel is a pounding and ringing sensation. The last time you had a hangover this bad was last year at your birthday party when Rina came back to the table with 10 skittle bombs and 5 sambucas. The night was fun but the morning after was most definitely not.

It takes you some time to force your eyes open, expecting to see Rina’s room, but unless she heavily redecorated the complete opposite of her aesthetic in the past few weeks, it was safe to say you were not in Rina’s room. It’s strange because she always lets you crash at hers after a night out, it was an unspoken rule you both made so you could debrief the events of the night before and cringe every time you remembered some of the munters you kissed.

You rub your tired eyes to try and get a better scope of your surroundings but nothing about this room is familiar. Glancing around the walls you see posters of some random anime and Red Velvet, shelves filled with pictures of, and some shelves with all types of cologne and figurines displayed.

As you look down you see yourself dressed in only a t-shirt, no pants, no trousers - this cannot be good. Who did you speak with last night? If you were being honest, the whole night was a blur and the more you try to think the more your head hurt. The t-shirt smells familiar which is a good sign, as a matter of fact, the whole room smells familiar. It’s not overwhelmingly obvious but you could definitely place it.

Getting out of the comfortable bed you start to nosy around the person’s belongings like you were on an episode of Come Dine With Me, looking for any clue as to who the owner is.

The room is clean bar a few clothes and a gym bag that you have one-hundred percent seen before. Your best bet is to look at the photos splattered on the long mirror adjacent to the bed but when you look at it, the reflection of the wall behind you makes you spin around and observe.

The wall is filled with floating shelves covered in trophies and medals, an astronomical amount of awards for one person, kind of like Minhee has. The ironic thing is, you think this tiny room might hold more trophies than your brother’s double room dedicated to them.

Your steps slow as you approach a particularly large trophy, its gleaming surface catching the light. Your heart sinks as you read the nameplate, the realisation hitting you like a wave crashing against the shore.

No, no, no There is no way you are in his room..

Headache or not you need to start thinking about what ensued at that stupid party.

You got there, Rina handed you a few drinks, you took a few shots, danced with a few people, but what else? You don’t even remember seeing Sunghoon there so how the fuck are you in his bedroom and presumably in his shirt, or better yet, in only his shirt.

Cursing yourself was too polite a punishment because last night you made a promise to get over him by getting under someone and clearly that didn’t happen.

Oh no. You think to yourself as you start to wonder if he was the one you got under and you don’t even remember it. You grudge yourself because sober you wanted nothing more than to have sex with him again and now drunk you might have gotten the opportunity and forgot every single bit of it. She was not your best friend at the moment.

On the bright side, this was your chance to poke around his room and uncover any icks that could help you with your Sunghoon problem. You see a pair of boxers strewn on the floor and shove them on, trying to save yourself some dignity.

The trophies were magnificent. You knew he was the best but to see all his accomplishments displayed so blatantly like this struck you with awe. The years ranged from 2011 to now which just showcased how long he has been dedicated to the sport. You understand he’s been doing it since he was a kid, you got the privilege to watch him, but you didn’t get to see all his competitions - not the ones Minhee didn’t compete in at least.

Next to the last trophy is a picture of him, his dad, and his mum with what you assume is his first-ever award. He looked just how you remembered him, so cute and bright, the ice skating persona then was one far different than the ‘cocky’ one he has now. Back then he was branded as the nation's cutie pie and had every old woman trying to adopt him as their own, like how teenage girls adopt men in bands and claim them as their children.

You mourned the kid he used to be, only imagining his situation was the same as your brothers - grew up too fast with too much pressure.

Moving over to his desk you see his University books and a laptop with stickers he’s collected from random places. You don’t know a lot of them but see a few Sanrio stickers and smile, he is for sure Tuxedosam in human form.

There’s not a lot scandalous about the rest of the room which busted your mission. You could look through his drawers but you have to draw the line before it gets creepy.

There is, however, a bottle of water and some aspirin next to the bed which he must have left for you. Swallowing the physical pills, you now need to swallow the metaphorical ones and leave the room to face the boy you pied for a week.

A sick feeling bubbles in your tummy that could either be from the obscene amount of alcohol you drank or seeing him again. You did technically see him last night even if you don’t remember, but that makes the turning in your stomach worse because what did you do last night? Best case scenario? You didn’t embarrass yourself.

Hyping yourself up by shaking your shoulders, you open the door and head down the hall. By any miracle he won’t be there, you can put your shoes on and make a run for it. Sadly for you, when you see a broad back walking into the kitchen completely oblivious to your presence, you realise quickly you need to face this. Face Sunghoon.

“Hey,” Shooting around at the sound of your voice, Sunghoon’s eyes widen when he sees you like he wasn’t the one to carry you to bed and change you; it’s good to see you found the boxers he failed to fight on you last night.

“How are you feeling?” He doesn’t know how much you remember and he doesn’t know what to do if you don’t. How would he bring up anything that happened at the party without upsetting you all over again?

Sitting on a high stool at the island, you rest your head on one of your palms and close your eyes, “Fucking awful, my head has its own personal marching band,” you attempt to laugh at your analogy but it hurts too much, the strain on your head causes you to wince, “Did I, uh, did I call you last night?”

Shit, you don’t remember. Sunghoon physically stiffens because he doesn’t know what to say. You have every right to know what happened to you but then you might relive the memory and turn back into the girl from last night, and he never wanted you to feel like that again.

As you stare at him expectantly, he doesn’t move, the only thing stopping him from looking like a 2D manga character is his shifting eyes that are looking everywhere but at you.

The way Sunghoon is reacting is making you nervous. You must have fucked up big time if Park Sunghoon is speechless, “Sunghoon I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”

His eyes widen, your choice of words ironic to your situation. If he can make you remember at your own free will then that has to be better than just springing it on you, right? “You didn’t do anything out of order, I promise. You called me to come pick you up,” he pauses looking down at the now suddenly interesting countertop, “Do you remember why you phoned me?”

You lift your head from your hand and shake your head, “No, not really. I remember drinking lots and then it kind of blacks out.” Your brain vessels are popping at the hard work you’re putting in to remember because by Sunghoon’s facial expression, you’re missing something massive, “I do remember dancing, and then sitting on the ground outside.” The memories fade in and out, only recalling locations.

He blows cold air and nods slowly, knowing he is going to have to tell you, “Y/N, do you remember a guy?” Seeing your eyes dart about like you’re trying to find the answer in the air tells Sunghoon you don’t remember, “He uh, he was dancing with you and asked you to go upstairs?” He is giving you tiny hints to help you cast your mind back which seems to be working enough.

“I went upstairs and,” all the images from last night flash quickly by, how you walked up the stairs, how he pinned you against the wall, his unappealing touches, how he-. That’s why Sunghoon looks so apprehensive to tell you flat out what happened, “Oh…yeah.”

Suddenly, you feel like you’re back in your body from last night, that guy's fingers still on you and his breath sticking to your skin. It made you feel disgusting and your body didn’t fit right over your bones anymore. Your mouth fills with saliva and you grip the countertop, this only ever happens when you are going to be sick or have a panic attack, in this case, it could be both but for now, it’s only a nauseous reaction. Tears prick your eyes as you try to stop yourself from breaking down.

Rushing over, Sunghoon twists your seat to face him so he can envelope you in his arms, “Shh, you’re safe here.” And you believe him. You are safe as long as he is with you, his soft touches are a testament to that.

Sunghoon shuts his eyes, wishing he could take away all the pain and sorrow you’re feeling but he’s a useless bystander who can only watch you go through this. He knows words and affection only go so far and it would take you a while to come to terms with the ordeal, but he’s silently vowing to himself that he will be here for you.

It’s strange how rapidly he became attached to you, like you were a bright light and he was a moth, too distracted by your beauty to think about the danger.

Once you settled down a little, he pulled away to check your face for straggled tears and wiped them away, “I will never let anyone touch you again. Not like that.”

With your memory piecing back together, you pull yourself away from him, grabbing his wrist and inspecting his hand. He had punched that guy so much that the scene before you looked like something out of a gory horror film. Sunghoon’s knuckles are cleaned but bruised and discoloured, the swollenness of his hand indicates a minor fracture.

He wanted you to forget that part but he supposed you would see it eventually. It took him a long time to get the blood stain off, red tinges still visible if you looked hard enough. He has a pictorial for a sponsor in a few days that he’s either going to need his hand airbrushed over or cancel it completely. It didn’t matter the outcome, it was worth it. There will always be more ad deals in the future.

You bring his injured hand to your lips and kiss the knuckles softly which causes Sunghoon to suck in a breath and his throat to close over. Even when you were in dismay you still found time to look after him in the simplest of ways, ways he doesn’t know he needs until you’re already tending to him.

“You need to wrap this up and put some ointment on it or it’ll scar. Where can I find some wrap and Savlon?” You stand up, not taking your eyes off his battered hand.

“I’ll get them, they’re in the toilet I think.” He strolls to the bathroom and finds some old bandages and Geromlene that should do the job just fine. When he walks back into the kitchen you have a cup of water and a piece of kitchen towel, “Here.” He hands you what you need.

Pushing him onto the stool you once occupied, you put his hand on the worktop to clean it, “You know, you shouldn’t have done that.”

He knows the implications of his actions, especially with people recording. If it got to the board he could be removed from competing at Nationals and stripped of his titles, “I guess, but it was worth it.” The boy wants to say that you’re worth it but he doesn’t, scared you’ll pull away again, “I got some revenge from it too.”

The damage to his hand isn’t as bad as you thought but as it tremors slightly, you know some nerve damage has been done. Slathering it in Germolene stings him but he doesn’t let you know it hurts him, he just grits and bares it, letting you continue. Wrapping the bandage around the wound, you collect your thoughts, “What do you mean revenge?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you one day,” he shrugs but his words set a sadness in your chest because when would he get to tell you this mysterious problem he has with your aggressor? Sunghoon is saying it like he has a lifetime to tell you all these stories but you shouldn’t even be speaking to him now.

“I am truly sorry, Hoonie,” He tries to talk but you interject, “Not just about last night but for shutting you down like that.” Pursing his lips, his eyes are trained on the bandage, “I just can’t be with you.”

You finish up and kiss his hand again. It’s not difficult to fix someone's physical wounds, there are all sorts of treatments and medications for them, it’s the emotional nicks and cuts you have a hard time patching up. You didn’t really think it would affect him but that’s a lot easier to manipulate yourself into thinking when the boy isn’t in front of you with his face contorted, looking like an injured puppy.

“Minhee doesn’t own you, y’know. You can see whoever you want.” He retorts, hoping you find some reason in his words. Confused, you scrunch your eyebrows as he explains, “You said last night Minhee forbid you from seeing me.”

Ah, drunken you really stuck her foot in it, “I know he doesn’t own me, but you should have seen his face. I’ve never seen him so angry.”

“How did he find out about us?” he asks. Sunghoon says ‘us’ so casually, like you’ve been an ‘us’ forever. He finds it so natural to talk about you as part of him. When he told Jay and Jake about your impromptu date the night of the Zamboni he kept speaking for both of you, how ‘we’ had a great time and ‘we’ just got one another.

“You drove your car up to my front door. The next morning he was all like ‘If you date him Y/N, I’ll kill him’ or something like that.” Your impression of Minhee makes Sunghoon laugh because you nail it perfectly - the scowl, the hard-lined eyes, you must have seen that face so much to perfect it.

Standing up, Sunghoon takes the medical stuff back to the bathroom where he found it, giving himself time to think of ways he can change your mind, find a loophole, anything that allows him to be around you. It’s selfish to want you with him knowing what it does to your brain but if he can somehow convince you, he’ll do anything.

Walking back to you, he sees your figure perched on the stool and there’s a lightbulb moment that goes off in his head, “Did he say date?”

You spin around at his question, unsure of what he is getting at, “What? Yeah, he said ‘date and stuff’ I think.”

“Then let’s not date.”

Slouching, you agree, nodding your head and trying not to look too upset. The notion of not dating him seems to nip your feelings more than you thought.

Seeing your saddened expression, Sunghoon quickly recovers, “No, let’s-” he pauses for a moment, trying to find a nice way to say it, “Let’s keep it casual, keep it strictly hooking up.”

You bring your eyes to meet his pleading ones but you don’t understand the whole situation. When you called it off, he walked away so easily you thought he didn’t care but in front of you now, he seems the exact opposite, “You didn’t seem bothered about me stopping whatever this is between us at the rink,” as you point your finger between you both, Sunghoon can only let out a ‘huh?’ and lean on the island, “You said ‘suit yourself’, like, that would indicate you couldn’t care less.”

Honestly, Sunghoon just didn’t know how to respond at the moment. He wanted to say more but what could he have said?

That was also the reason for his dry response, he decided that it might be best to let you walk away, for your own sake, “It’s not like that, Sweets. I didn’t mean to be like that, I just…I don’t know.” He couldn’t articulate his thoughts at the moment, brain preoccupied with how to keep you here, “Look, you can say no but if you’re the same as me, you know you want this.”

“It won’t ever just be a hooking-up situation though and you know it.” You had to call it what it is. The way you both feel, even in your week apart, was enough to know this would never work. Someone’s feelings, probably you both, would grow so immense that it would never stay casual.

“We make a deal, a promise, swear it on your brother's name that we won’t get attached. You’re too loyal to betray him and I can keep myself in check.” Sunghoon is highly aware of how desperate he sounds right now but he doesn’t mind.

“But I would already be betraying him by even considering having sex with you again.” You’re crestfallen as you speak, gazing down and playing with your fingers.

Sunghoon has the opposite reaction however, his face has a slight smile while he brings his hands to your shoulders, gaining your full attention, “But he said you can’t date me, not that you can’t fuck me.”

“I think it was implied, Hoon.”

“But not explicitly stated.” If Sunghoon wasn’t in university for sports physiotherapy, he could be studying to be a lawyer, at least that’s what he thinks, “C’mon, Sweets, I might go mad if I don’t get to touch you again.”

The cogs turn in your head because he does have a point, it’s the perfect, guilt-free loophole. You wouldn’t be dating him but still get to see him, it’s a win-win on paper, “What if my brother finds out?”

His big hands tuck your hair back behind your ears and stay pressed on your cheeks, “Believe it or not, Y/N, I don’t tend to air my sex life to the town.” Sunghoon breathes out a laugh, his thumbs swiping back and forth on your face, helping your uneasiness but also removing some of the smudged makeup from yesterday, “We’ll keep it a secret, yeah?”

“You could have any girl, Hoon, one you don’t have to sneak around with,” you want to give him one last chance out of this.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers, “To be perfectly honest, Y/N, I don’t want just anyone else, I want you.” You need to tell your heart to calm down so you close your eyes to find some semblance of equanimity. He nudges his nose with yours and smiles, knowing the effect he has on you, “So, what do you say?”

There is a beat of a pause before you say softly, “Yes.” It was a risk. You would have to be careful but if you wanted to stop at any point you could, because it was just casual, nothing more - Minhee would never know.

The brightest smile graces Sunghoon’s face, his eyes shrinking in size and canines on full display, “Yeah?” It’s like he doesn’t believe it even though he’s heard it. For a moment he thought you were going to tell him no, that there was no ambiguity to be found in Minhee’s words, “Can I kiss you then?” he asks, his voice tinged with hopeful anticipation.

You meet his gaze, offering a nonchalant shrug that belies the flutter of excitement in your chest. "I suppose so," you reply, your tone teasing yet inviting.

He leans in slowly, testing to see if you actually meant it. Meeting him halfway, your lips meld together seamlessly, igniting a spark of longing that fuels the kiss. Sunghoon's smile against your mouth speaks volumes, conveying his joy and gratitude. Sunghoon can’t ever stop kissing you, not unless you need air.

With his hands gently gripping your waist, he feels you push yourself onto him. Sunghoon’s lips are all over yours practically eating your face off because he can’t believe he hasn’t kissed you in 8 days. He missed your taste and how easy it was to get lost in your mouth. Both of you are so desperate for one another that you don’t even come up for breath, the kiss all too consuming.

You yelp when he picks you up and carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot and throwing you both on the bed and as you shuffle up the bed, Sunghoon crawls with you, his mouth chasing yours eagerly.

There’s electricity in the air and it sparks pure lust into his body, his dick throbbing at the thought of being with you again. This time he’s going to do it right and take his time with you, ensuring you feel sufficiently fucked out when he’s done. When he was taking you in the front seat of his car, it was good, actually, it was beyond perfect but it was over too soon, he had so much more to show you.

His mouth moves at a new unhurried pace, his tongue running painstakingly slow over yours, so slow he could feel all your tastebuds. Sunghoon’s promise to himself was to devour you so much you are all he can taste for the next few days, just in case he doesn’t get the chance to sneak you away. This deal he has with you isn’t ideal, he wants to call you his and never let go, not just be a fuck buddy. He did call you his last night in the heat of the moment and it felt so good to say it.

Your hands slide under his white t-shirt and scrape his sides lightly, making the man shiver. It’s not only his waist you’re touching like this but you’re soon roaming all over his body. Your hands have a mind of their own as they glide every inch of his soft, warm skin, and the caresses you are receiving are equally as adoring. Not like that guy.

Why did you think about it now? Just when you had distracted yourself enough.

Noticing the change in you, Sunghoon pauses his kisses and opens his eyes, “Are you okay, Y/N?” You nod but it’s unconvincing, making him halt, “Talk to me, Sweets.”

Unfortunately, he’s seen that look on your face before and he knows what you’re thinking about.

How could he be so stupid? It didn’t even register to him you might not be ready to jump into bed considering what happened not 24 hours ago, hell, not even 12 hours ago.

“Hoonie?” Your voice is wispy as you run a hand through his dark locks, “Make me forget about it? Replace his touches with yours?” It was a simple request but it held so much weight. Sunghoon was the only one you wanted to feel on your body from now on.

“Are you sure, Y/N? I don’t want you to think you have to. I can wait for as long as you need.”

Sunghoon’s facial features are drawn with concern as he waits for you to truly think about this, to analyse whether you’re making this decision with a clear mind.

Shaking your head, you decline his kind act, “I want you to fuck me. Like really fuck me,” your eyes never come off of his to make certain he knows you’re serious, “I’m okay and I want this. I want you so bad.”

A smirk plasters itself onto Sunghoon’s face, “You’re going to kill me, y’know.” He presses his body on yours so you feel most of his weight on your core, his cock hardening as he softly grinds it onto your clothed heat, “As long as you’re sure?”

You nod, getting a little impatient but you’re appreciative of his concern.

He doesn’t say anything but goes back to kissing you even more intensely than before, his fingertips rubbing themself all over your body just as you requested. Sunghoon will do anything in his power to make you feel better. If this is what you wanted, this is what you’d get.

Sunghoon’s right hand trails down your stomach, shaking a little from sheer joy. He dips into the band of the boxers you’re wearing and slides his fingers perfectly between your folds, “How many times do you think I can make you cum this time, hmm?” The pad of his pointer circles your clit “Maybe once?” His husky voice flows into your ear as he speaks, “Could be twice, or three times, I know you’re more than capable.” You wriggle under him when his middle and ring fingers join the party and tap your entrance, “4 times? Could my Sweets cum 4 times for me?”

He has the audacity to be asking you these questions when all you can do is writhe in anticipation and want. If he keeps rubbing your clit and poking at your hole like this you might have the first orgasm in record time, but you don’t want to give him all the satisfaction, so you hold back.

Biting at your neck, he feels your heartbeat picking up speed to mirror with his thumb, “You could cum right now, couldn’t you? Why don’t you?” Sunghoon can feel your resistance and he knows you’re hating how much control he has over you. You’re an independent girl and he knows that means you’re not used to being in this position, with someone playing you like this. When you rode him in his car, you wanted to be in full control but he didn’t let that happen.

Moving his face to yours, he sees your eyes shut and mouth open, a clear invitation for him to stick his tongue down your throat. You moan at the sensations happening to your body all at once and the cocky boy on top of you smiles, his tongue licking over yours, “Let go, Sweets. I won’t deny you anything unless you want me to.”

If there is one thing you hate in this world it’s being edged. You’re aware that some people love it, that it heightens the climax when you finally get to cum but you can’t think of anything worse. Why withstand the inevitable when you can have multiple bouts of pleasure? So maybe you should just let him see how many times he could get you off, it would be beneficial for you, who cares if his ego inflates, you could get him back another time.

You smile at the thought of having another time with him.

Once you make the decision to loosen up and let Sunghoon do his thing, he knows he’s won the tiny battle of dominance, “Good girl.” Here comes that praise kink you’ve discovered because, with his words, you’re purring into his mouth and levitating your hips to get more connection from his fingers. You don’t have to ask him anything, he already knows what you need, he can feel the wetness on his fingers that’s leaking from your pussy.

His thumb hasn’t stopped rubbing you, and it continues with the same vigour as he slips his two fingers into you, stretching you open. Assessing your face for any discomfort, he doesn’t discover any, only bliss etched on your features. If he could, he would do this for a full-time job and work overtime just to see you like this all of the time.

Sunghoon starts to thrust his fingers into you at a steady pace, one finger ridged, applying pressure, and the other loose so he can hit every spot inside you. He wasn’t an expert on fingering women but with the response of your pussy contracting, he knows he’s giving you what you need. While his fingers pleasure you, he works off the boxers you’re wearing which is easier said than done considering he’s only got one hand to pull them down with. It’s not like him to give up on anything though and before you know it, he’s whipped them off your legs, all the while never letting up on his pace.

He needs to add multitasking to his resume.

Sitting on his knees and finding a new angle, he adds a third finger, stretching you to the brink. He looks at you from where he sits and takes in the view; your legs spread, shoulders pushing themselves into his sheets while your back lifts - it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever witnessed. And here he was thinking you bouncing on his cock was top of his list.

You bite back a moan, covering your mouth with your forearm, “Nu-uh, Sweets. I wanna hear you,” he leans forward and cages beneath him as he pins your arm away from your face, “Let me hear how good you feel.”

You aren’t necessarily loud in bed, but you’ve never had the need to be moaning and groaning like a pornstar. That was until now, so with his go-ahead, you become more vocal, signalling when he was making you feel stars in your pussy. “Fuck, I-”

“Cum on my fingers, baby, give it to me,” he rubs your clit harder, coaxing out your first of many orgasms of the night.

Not wasting a single drop, he dips down so his face is at your core and laps up the juices, replacing his fingers with his tongue. You taste so perfect, the tang of your pussy is what he has been craving and he wasn’t satisfied until he had it filling his mouth.

He eats you out, his fingers that were once inside you now assisting his mouth by spreading your folds open. Your legs flail while he drinks you up, consuming your pussy like it was the last bit of water and he was a traveller in the Sahara Dessert.

You finally plant your feet on the bed, resisting the urge to close your thighs in case you suffocate him, but Sunghoon being Sunghoon, notices, “Don’t be scared to crush my head, I like it.”

He loves it actually, the feeling of being confined by fluffy thighs, the 'no way out’ feeling gives him more incentive to get his partner to cum quicker. It might be masochistic the way he loves fighting for breath but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Oh my fuck,” Your legs grant his wishes and trap him. He is way too good at this like he does it as an obsessive hobby. All caution is thrown to the wind and mewl out his name loudly, tugging his hair with your hands.

Sunghoon feels his cock throb at how you cry out his name so achingly, he needs to have you around him soon, so he focuses on your clit, nipping at it skillfully to bring you over the edge. It only takes a minute or two before your pussy is contracting as you cum over his face. Your nectar coats his mouth and he wonders how he can add your cum as part of his skincare routine because he wants to be lathered in it morning and night.

Your legs shake intensely as you feel the orgasm claim you. Your body has gone limp, legs falling open to each side. Swiftly, his hands are on your ass, pushing your vagina up to his face so he can tuck into you, taking full control. Sunghoon is holding your whole bottom half up and it’s helping him slurp you, his tongue dipping into your hole to lap any of the leftover cum he could have missed and his perfect nose rubbing against your delicate clit.

“Sunghoon, please, I can’t do another one so quickly.” Sunghoon doesn’t hear you though, too focused on his meal. He’s using his hold on you to manually grind your pussy on his face which is sending you into overdrive. He buries in your cunt as deep as humanly possible, moaning into you.

The vibrations from his moan are too much for you, “Hoonie, fuck, I’m gonna cum again.” His ego is the size of Buckingham Palace the way he made you take back your words. He knew you were lying when you said you couldn’t cum again that fast. You need to start giving yourself more credit.

For the third time today, you cum hard moaning his name, this time you're really gripping at his hair, almost thrashing around at the intensity of it. Those porn videos you see scrolling through Twitter might not be as over the top as you thought because you’ve lost your head, the only thing you know for certain is that your pussy is pulsing and soaking wet.

He kisses up your heat once more while his hands rub the outside of your legs, trying to get you to settle, “Take a minute,” Sunghoon brings you forward so you sit up, his arms keeping you steady when you climb onto him and sit on his lap, “You did so well, Sweets.” You lay your head on his shoulder and indulge in the praises he’s giving you.

Drawing back you look at him with hazy eyes, “Thank you, Hoonie.”

“I should be thanking you, you taste fucking unreal,” he pushes your sweaty hair back absentmindedly before he kisses you ever so gently, his teeth grazing your lower lip, asking you to open up for his tongue.

Slowly, you open up to grant him entry, his kitten licks subtle but deep enough that you can tangle your tongue with his. You had never been kissed like this before and it was turning you on so much; the way his hands were roaming over your back and his lips moulding into yours just right, it was like a dream. The atmosphere was getting hot again as you both deepened the kiss, your tongues swirling and flicking with one another rhythmically.

He bites your bottom lip and pulls at it roughly, making you involuntarily groan and throw your head back. Sunghoon loves how responsive you are, the way your body presses into him desperately seeking connection the same way he does. It's euphoric, and it gives him the same feeling of want that you do.

One thing that’s missing is the view of your delicious tits in his face, covered by his much-loved band t-shirt. Swiftly, he peels it off your body and his hands fly right to them, squeezing and pulling at them roughly. He contemplates removing his lips from your mouth to attach them to your perky nipple but you’re enjoying kissing him too much.

He’ll come back for them soon.

Although it seems like he has been kissing you for eternity, it has revived you and made you want more. The idea makes your clit pulsate, and you softly massage her over his clothed cock, “Hoonie,” the uttering of his nickname brings him out of his dazed state and he pulls back to look at you, “I need you.” After admiring how full his lips have become from the kisses, you find it impossible to resist the temptation to start kissing him once more, not giving him a chance to speak.

Sunghoon’s mouth should be put in a museum or win some sort of Nobel prize for how spectacular it is.

“You sure? Don’t you need more time?” To be honest, Sunghoon became so engrossed in your tongue inside his mouth that he completely lost track of time. He’s unaware that he has been kissing and holding you on his lap for more than twenty minutes which for you is more than enough recovery time.

“I’m sure,” You reassure him not just by your words but by how hard you’re starting to hump him over his boxers.

His eyelids are drooping, heavy from the lust he’s feeling, “Fuck, you turn me on so bad, Y/N.” Sunghoon can’t wait any longer so with one hand on the back of your head and one on your ass, he lifts you slightly as he shuffles forward to lay you down so you’re comfortable on the bed. Just as he promised himself, he dives his mouth onto your left tit, sucking and licking your nipple. They’re so soft and delicate that he just cannot get enough.

Although you enjoy the way he's toying with your breasts, it's not what you want right now. He has all the time in the world to fondle you, just as soon as his cock is slotted inside your pussy, “Sunghoon, please.”

“Shh, I know.” He gets it, he really does - he is just as, if not more desperate to fuck you. He just had to pay some extra loving to his favourite girls first.

“Let me grab a condom.” Sunghoon keeps them in his top drawer like most people do so they’re easy enough to retrieve and won’t keep you waiting. He stands up and flicks through the drawer to find the foils - he has ultra-thin condoms somewhere in this mess which are far superior to the ones he has in his car.

You turn to look at him as he hurriedly scours his drawer for the rubber and it dawns on you that he still has his clothes on, albeit he’s only in a loose top and stripy boxer shorts, but it’s still two layers too many. Your fingers reach over and twist his top idly, wondering what he looks like naked. It was unfair he got to see you naked twice and you haven’t even seen him with his top off yet.

Sunghoon feels the tugging of his t-shirt and looks down at you, the desired-filled gaze you have as you’re lost in thought only encourages him to find the condoms faster. He finally stumbles upon the red packet and inwardly celebrates. The ultra-thin condoms felt so good, giving him almost the same sensation as going in raw while making sure no baby Parks were running around Cheonan.

With the boy distracted as he shuts the drawer, you take the opportunity to slowly pull down his boxers. His startled expression turns to one of excitement as he processes what you’re doing, “That desperate?” Instead of answering, you lick up his shaft painfully slow, keeping eye contact with him as you do so, “Fucking hell.”

As your mouth closes around his tip and sucks firmly, the already painful hardness of his cock intensifies, leaking pre cum into your mouth already, “Sweets, as much - fuck - as much as I would love to have you suck me off, I really want to fuck you.” He whips off his t-shirt, now standing proudly naked.

Popping off him reluctantly, you agree and go back to the position he laid you in, “You always listen to me so well, Sweets,” he says while stroking his cock a few times to spread the mix of your saliva and the beads of his cum.

Opening the wrapper and rolling the condom, he sees your hungry eyes focused on him. You’re watching his every move and it’s agonising. That jealousy that seems to erupt within you when it comes to Sunghoon seems to have gotten so bad you’re now jealous of him as he touches his own cock. There’s something wrong with you but you want to be the only one touching him.

Sunghoon crawls on the bed and hovers over you, ready to give you what you want, “Can’t wait to feel you around me again. Thought I might die.”

“Sunghoon, it’s only been a week,” you laugh and curl your arms around his neck to peck his lips.

“Yeah, a week too long.” Sunghoon mirrors your laugh. He wasn’t joking though, after he fucked you, nothing else could get him off, only you could do that for him now. He was never letting you out of his grasp again, that much was obvious.

He starts by dragging his dick through your folds, stimulating your clit with the brushing of his head just to test how ready for this you are. Your nub was highly sensitive at the moment and he didn’t want to hurt you but by the soft mewls leaving your throat, he got confirmation that you were okay and pressed himself to your entrance, slowly pushing in.

Sunghoon started off slow and shallow, opening you up around him gently. What he doesn’t plan on is you moving yourself down further onto his cock, already eager for more. He didn’t know what you liked so he had to learn as he went along but he’s taking mental notes because he wants to be the one fuck you never forget about. Even in 40 years if you’re married to someone else with kids he wants you to look back on him and think about how no one has ever fucked you as good as Park Sunghoon.

He grips your hips and starts to bottom out, thrusting into you with a fast and steady pace that’s already driving you wild. The way his cock curves slightly to the left helps add a sensation you haven’t felt before with anyone else, “Oh my god, fuck,” you grasp him by his hair and plant more kisses on him. Even though they're clumsy, you absolutely have to have him all over you, whatever it takes, “Hoonie, you feel so good.”

“Fuck, baby, so do you,” The nickname slips out his lips by accident, he wasn’t sure if calling you baby was against the rules, he’d have to ask you later because he doesn’t think you’ve even registered what he just said, too lost in pleasure.

His hips snap sharply against you as he presses in deeper. The feeling of your pussy squeezing him has him close to climax but he’s holding it in, just like you did earlier. This wasn’t for any reason other than wanting this to last. Sunghoon can cum more than once usually, but with breaks, and by the look of you already so fucked out, he knows he can’t push you to go that long.

Sitting back up on his knees, he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and twists you on your side, the new angle allowing his cock to hit your sweet spot over and over again. He’s pounding into you so deep you think you can feel him in your stomach, “Fuck, Hoonie, right there!” you cry out in pleasure, burying your head into the bed. He is literally fucking you sideways and you cannot get enough of it.

You want to help out but you physically can’t. Sunghoon is holding onto your leg and manhandling you in any way he pleases to make you feel good and fuck it’s working. In contrast to his forceful thrusts, he gives your calf a couple of gentle kisses, making you feel incredibly cared for, as though his sole goal is your pleasure.

And it is. That’s all he will ever think about from now on, “Y/N,” he moans your name and it’s the best song you’ve ever heard, “I’m gonna fuck you forever.”

“Please, don’t ever stop, please.” You mean every pleading cry because you’ve never felt so good in your life. The groans escaping your mouth are so loud it’s embarrassing but when you feel Sunghoon thrust his hips faster, the feeling of embarrassment dissipates because he clearly likes you being loud, probably because he’s the same. His grunts filled the room with the occasional profanities following them. You’ve never been with a man who’s vocal but you can’t ever go back to the quiet. You can’t fuck anyone other than Sunghoon.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Sweets. You’re fucking sensational.” He twists you back onto your back, both of your legs now placed over his broad shoulders as he bends you in half, fucking you to finality, “You’re squeezing me so good. Do you want to cum?” His voice is breathless, close to finishing himself.

You can’t get the words out so you settle with a nod but you know he wouldn’t accept that as an answer. Looking up at him you manage to build your voice, “Yes, Hoonie. I wanna cum so bad, please let me cum.”

“You never have to ask, Sweets, just let go.”

Being the people pleaser you are, it’s only natural for you to ask if you can cum. If you cum too soon he might not like that and you can’t imagine disappointing him. What you don’t know is that you could never disappoint Sunghoon, he doesn’t care if you cum in 5 seconds or 5 hours, he just wants you to feel good.

He sees you thinking about it even though you’re desperate to climax. It’s time for him to bring out the big guns. Sliding his hand down between you, he rubs your clit back and forth, “Be a good girl for me.” He caught onto your need for appraisal right away and he knows it’ll drive you crazy. And he’s right because the praise mixed in with his harsh thrusts and fingers stroking your clit, your body starts to shake and contort as you cum.

Even though your eyes are clenched tight, you could cry from how much the orgasm is coursing through you., “That’s it, doing so well for me,” Sunghoon whispers in your ear, losing his sharp rhythm, “Fuck, Y/N, you’re the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

“It’s only for you.” You whimper, still fucked out of reality, “Only yours.”

“Yeah? Your pussy is all mine?”

“All yours, Hoonie.”

With your words, he stills his cock inside of you and lets his climax take control as he spills into the condom, filling it up before falling on top of you. It doesn't take the exhausted man long to realise that his head is perfectly positioned between your tits, a sly smile teasing his face.

This is everything he’s ever dreamed of.

Your shared breathless pants bounce around the room, evidencing the exertion of your sex session. Can you imagine if you had said no to being casual with him? You wouldn’t have gotten to experience the best sex of your life.

He lifts his head to look at you, swallowing hard, trying to get some moistness back into his mouth, “You are unreal, do you know that?” All you can do is laugh at him and shake your head, “I’m serious, Y/N, you’re fucking amazing.” He places a gentle kiss between your breasts as if to seal his compliment into your heart.

You thread your fingers through his hair and it falls perfectly back into place. You are so content right now with Sunghoon’s cock nestled inside you, his hands tucked under your back as he absentmindedly massages you, and his lips now trailing kisses up your collarbone and neck, “Thank you, Hoonie.”

“You don’t have to thank me for telling you the truth,” His lips finally meet yours again as he smooches you a couple of times.

“Not that,” you pause to collate your words, “Thank you for helping me yesterday, like truly I wouldn’t have been surprised if you ignored my call.” After you left him high and dry you didn’t understand why he came to your rescue at the party but you could not thank him enough.

“I’ll always answer when you call,” he states casually, hiding how his words have a deeper meaning.

His eyes sparkle and stare into yours. He wants to say more but he has to leave it there. What he wants to tell you is that you can rely on him night and day and that he wants to protect you for the rest of his life. There’s something about you that is dragging him into a pot of feelings he hasn’t experienced before.

It’s crazy how fast all of this has happened for you both, and if he ever vocalised how he felt people would probably tell him it was crazy. Yet, for Sunghoon, it wasn’t crazy at all. He felt so many things for you, he just doesn’t know what they all are or why they’re happening so quickly.

But he told you he would keep his feelings in order, hold them back to make this deal work. It’s going to be difficult because he wants to scream at how much he likes you, how comforting it is when you’re with him. Even when you studied at the rink while he skates, no one uttering a word or sparing a glance, he just felt happier with your presence. That’s probably why he came up and spoke to you that night he accused you of being a spy for your brother.

Yes, there was a little part of him that believed you were there to give Minhee a heads up given how close you both are, but he just needed one excuse to talk to you. If he made the first move then he could keep talking to you, just like he’s always wanted to.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you whisper.

“Like what?” His eyes don’t stop speaking silent words and it makes your tummy flutter.

“Like you’re breaking the rules already.”

You sit up on your elbows, breaking the connection. Not that you wanted to but if you both can’t even keep the deal intact for a couple of hours, there was no hope for you. Sunghoon listens to your body language and gets off of you completely, slipping his cock out in the process.

He disregards the condom in his bin and puts his boxers back on, “I guess we need to set the rules before I can break them.” Suddenly he goes out of the room for a minute, only to come back with a cloth and some blue Powerade, “Like, can I clean you up, or is that a no?”

The boundaries between what is and is not too intimate are hazy, but he is physically unable to resist taking care of you after sex. He would rather die than watch you clean yourself because as far as Sunghoon was concerned if he made the mess, he should clean it. Plus, it’s the right thing to do after he just fucked your brains out.

“I-” You ponder for a moment, unsure of the protocol between fuck buddies, but as you think it over, Sunghoon is already wiping you down, cleaning your juices from your folds and thighs. You could do it yourself, you supposed, but you can’t lie, being taken care of like this even in the most simplest of ways made you feel warm inside. Are these the feelings you’re both trying to avoid? This is too complicated.

“I guess we can work out the rules as we go. But I am giving you aftercare, I don’t care what you say.” He hands you the Powerade once he’s finished cleaning you off, “And you can’t run off right away.”

“But I can’t spend the night,” you argue.

“You don’t have to, but I’m not going to kick you out. If you’re tired, you stay here. End of story.” Clearly, Sunghoon hasn’t grasped the idea of friends with benefits but you’ll let it go for now.

You take a sip of your drink, your gaze lingering on Sunghoon as he rummages through his closet, searching for something for you to wear. You take the time to admire his back, the natural muscles built from his workout regime pop as he flicks through the hoodies hanging up. It’s making you wet again, you can’t lie.

He removes one from its hanger and gives it to you, along with some gym shorts. Although they probably look great on him, you can’t help but think how much you might end up looking like Adam Sandler if you put them on, but then again, you don’t have a choice.

“Here, put these on.” He hands you the clothes, kissing your head before petting it softly, the act of affection making you giddy.

“I can’t wear your hoodie, that’s too girlfriend-ish,” you look up at him and his hand stops at the back of your head, scratching it adoringly.

Sunghoon sighs with a smile, “You don’t really have a choice here, Sweets. Unless you want to put that dress back on,” The idea of physically stuffing yourself into that piece of clothing again makes you shudder, “That’s what I thought. It’s just an old hoodie anyway, I don’t even wear it anymore.”

False. He won't admit it to you, but he always wears it and carries it with him everywhere. It's his comfort sweatshirt. To see you in his favourite hoodie and to smell like him - that's why Sunghoon chose it especially.

As you slip into the hoodie, unaware of its significance to him, you unknowingly envelop yourself in a piece of his world. The familiar scent of him lingers in the fabric, wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

Quickly, you put on the remaining clothes and search for your stuff, “I need to go to Rinas, she’s probably wondering where I am.” In your leather jacket, you feel around for your phone, anticipating missed calls from your best friend.

“She knows you’re here,” He picks up your phone from the floor and passes it to you, it must have fallen out when he carried you in here last night.

You look at him puzzled but still remember to thank him, “What do you mean? Rina would never have let you take me home,” you state. Rina saw the mess you were in because of him, and with him leathering into that guy, she would have dragged you away from him herself.

Sunghoon smiles triumphantly, “She didn’t have a choice. I told her you were going to mine and that she had to cover for you.”

“You told THE Yu Jimin what to do?” You were gagged at the thought, truly, your flabber had been gasted because no one tells Rina what to do, like ever, and if they did she would make sure they were never happy again.

He simply shrugs and steals a kiss, and then another before his lips linger for a little longer, enticing you to kiss him back. Once he feels your lips moving with his, he smirks, bringing his hand to cradle your jaw, his fingers in your hair. You probably shouldn’t be kissing like this either but you don’t care right now, not with how his lips taste against yours..

Sunghoon steps back after a few blissful minutes and asks, "Was that the right choice, or what?" When he walks away to change, the smile becomes a smirk as he thinks about the sex you’ve just had.

You check your phone for messages and there are a lot. One from Minhee, saying he had a great time and he was staying at Jungmo’s place. It was perfect because now you could sneak into the house without anyone knowing you were gone for the night. There are a few texts from your mum saying she’s going to the store and not to sleep all day. And then there was Rina.

Rina💗

4:12am: Y/N, text me when you get there.

4:33am: If he touches you I swear to fuck I will kill him.

5:02am: Please let me know if you got to his ok?

8:54am: GIRL WAKE UP.

9:01am: You never sleep in after drinking.

9:01am: ARE YOU FUCKING HIM RIGHT NOW?

9:02am: IF YOU FUCK HIM I AM NEVER SPEAKING TO YOU AGAIN

10:23am: I cannot believe you are fucking him! Get over here right now.

You don’t know how she knew you were fucking him at that time but you are never going to hear the end of it.

“What is she saying?” He asks, tying the string of his joggers.

“That if you touch me she’s going to kill you, and I’m basically in the bad books for fucking you.” He turns the phone to see the messages and laughs.

Sunghoon hadn’t encountered Rina until last night but he heard the rumours about her and her temper. He didn’t know it was that girl who was your best friend, he thought you might have run with a different crowd, a quieter one with less drama. Rina was the opposite of you, she’s loud and obnoxious, and that’s just from what he saw last night, but at least she looks after you. He knew it was out of order to bad mouth her and her boyfriend but he’s not sorry for it.

“Well then,” He circles his arms around you, “If I’m going to die at the hands of your best friend, I think I should get to fuck you one more time.” He leans down to kiss you but all you can do is laugh. He was just a man at the end of the day, a horny, needy man.

“I need to get to Rina’s.” You say between kisses but that’s not what he wants to hear, so he grumbles slightly, the pout of his lips only adding to the kiss. He doesn’t have to say anything, you know he’s upset that you won’t stay a little longer, “I know, Hoonie. But I’ll see you at the rink, yeah?”

“Want another Zamboni lesson? I can really show you how to pump the lever.” Playfully, you slap his chest and push him away. The look on his face is one of arrogance and it’s so sexy but you can’t let him know, it’ll only inflate his head more.

You grab your belongings while Sunghoon follows you around like a puppy, placing his hand on your ass as you bend down to put on your shoes. The clothes you are wearing are ludicrous, nonetheless, you can't go to Rina's place barefoot. Sunghoon's hand slides beneath your hoodie and gently rubs your back, but when you straighten up, both of his hands are suddenly on your skin, easing their way to your boobs.

He pinches both of your nipples, eliciting a moan. Your head falls back onto his shoulder as you let him fondle you, “Sunghoon, I honestly have to go.”

“I know, just give me a minute.” His fascination with your boobs is unhealthy but he just can’t get enough. If your pussy wasn’t so delicious they might take the number one spot for his favourite things on your body. True to his word, after a couple of minutes he lets you go, his hands now hanging sadly by his side, “C’mon I’ll drive you.”

“I can walk it’s fine.” It was a long walk but you could use the air, still hot from the hangover and taking Sunghoon’s cock.

His eyebrows raise and he crosses his arms, “In those heels, yeah?” His eyes point to your 6 inch shoes in bewilderment. People look great in heels but he will never understand how anyone walks more than 5 minutes in them.

You look down at your shoes with him and nod, “Yeah, it’s only like an hour or two walk or something, I’ll blast through it.”

“Not a chance. I’m driving you.” As you begin to protest he points to you, “Eh, no arguing about this, Sweets, I’m taking you to Karina’s.” Sunghoon always had a way of getting what he wanted, either from his charm or his stubbornness. You have no choice now but to agree, so you pick your stuff back up and follow him out of his room.

Just as you both exit, Jake stands with a towel wrapped around his waist and water droplets falling down his abs. Sunghoon tuts in disgust, “Dude, there’s a girl here.”

“Yeah, I think the whole block knows that.” Sunghoon warns Jake with his eyes to shut up, “I’m Jake, by the way, Sunghoon’s favourite roommate.” Jake sticks his arm out to give you a handshake which you gingerly accept.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah, knew that too. He’s just as loud.” Jake laughs and walks away, leaving you both filled with embarrassment.

You punch the boy beside you in the arm once Jake is out of sight, causing Sunghoon to yelp and rub his arm, “How could you not tell me you had roommates!” you whisper-shout up at him.

If you had known he lived with others, there's no way you would have been as loud as you were. Everyone has sex, so it's not a huge thing. However, you're not thrilled that Sunghoon neglected to mention his roommates, especially since you haven't even seen them before and their first impression of you is you moaning like you’re in the adult entertainment industry.

“I guess I was too busy fucking you senseless to think about them.” He earns another punch for that one, but he takes it in his stride, wrapping his arm around you, “C’mon, Sweets, if anything, you’ve started a competition on who can get their girl to scream loudest.”

With that, he kisses the crown of your head as he guides you out of the house and to his car.

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexuals @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

#enhypen smut #enha smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #sunghoon x reader #melting point #aj writes #enhypen angst

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house-of-lovin · 10 months

Text

legally binded - 9

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 9 : Grand Prix and Grand Gestures

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: sorry for the long wait for this new chapter, just enjoying my summer yk! anyways, thanks for your guys' continued support and patience! much love!!

Word Count: 5.6k+

When Jenna stepped out of her room at precisely 4:45 AM, with the early morning sun yet to rise, the last thing she expected to find was the shared kitchen to be a mess.

Courtesy of you, of course. ‘Cause who else?

“What the hell are you doing to our kitchen?” Jenna croaked out, running a hand against the plastered wall as a guide as she tiredly rubbed her sleep-filled eyes with the other. When the blurring in her vision goes away, they settle on you looking… wired, like you’d had three cups of espresso already.

“Good morning!” You whispered, admiring her messy bedhead with a large toothy smile. “I’m making you breakfast.”

“Why?” She asked, voice hoarse. You rolled your eyes as you passed her a steaming mug of coffee without a word causing her to flick a brow up, opting to take a sip instead of questioning it.

“I’m making you breakfast so you don’t go to work hungry, again.” You explained matter-of-factly, turning your back to check on the stove. The younger actress couldn’t stave off her surprise that you’ve noticed her skipping the most important meal of the day. “Now I’m not the best cook. But, I learned a thing or two about making a mean avocado toast, and since you’re vegetarian… it’s really the only thing I can make you.”

Jenna didn’t expect her heart to be racing so early in the morning. Since your talk, the two of you have been more at ease around the other; falling back into that natural banter, every once in a while. But she can’t lie… the friends' agreement has been difficult to follow through with, especially since you’ve started with gestures such as this.

The younger actress finds she’s started to… allow herself to enjoy these domestic moments with you, knowing that now, feelings are very much reciprocated — just, without a label yet.

Placing the steaming mug down on the kitchen island, she chose not to comment on how her coffee was made exactly how she liked it. “I appreciate the gesture, Y/N. I hope you didn’t wake up early just to make me breakfast.”

You turned off the stove, took the pan off the burner, and rolled your eyes. “Get off your high horse, I was already up.” Turning around with the pan still in your hand.

“You were already up or you didn’t go to sleep?” She countered, expression flat.

You smiled sheepishly, “Jet lag is kicking my ass.”

Jenna snorted and watched as you plated the perfectly-browned toast on a dish and spread some avocados on top; garnishing it with the utmost (adorable) concentration on your face before sliding the plate across the island with a small but proud grin.

“Consider it compliments of the chef,” you send her a playful wink, glancing down. Jenna follows your line of sight, reading the printed words on the apron.

Kiss the Chef.

She tried to fight the smile creeping on her face but it proved futile when she felt the familiar warmth enveloping her pale morning cheeks.

“You’re not as smooth as you think you are…” Was the best response the younger actress could trust herself to utter. “When did you even buy that?”

You laughed, picking up your own cup of coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Jenna ignored you, electing to take a bite of the toast. She almost felt bad for eating something that you put so much effort towards. But when she takes a bite, she finds herself letting out a muffled moan, making you flush red at the sound. “Holy shit, what did you put in this?”

Plastering a smile, you teased, “it’s a secret.”

“You’re annoying…” Jenna covered her mouth, as she ate.

“Finish eating or you’ll be late.” You reminded, taking off the apron. The time zone change still messed with your internal body clock, meaning at times, you’d still be up when Jenna awoke for a day of work.

You noted the times she got up and at which of those mornings she managed to eat. After the third day of her waking up late, you decided that the next day you’d be kind and make her a healthy breakfast, knowing it’s often difficult to find time to eat during a busy day of filming.

“Wait…” Jenna called out before you could leave the kitchen. “What are you doing today?”

You racked your brain; thinking for a moment. “I gotta start packing for Monaco, I leave this Wednesday.”

Jenna remembered you telling her that you’ve been invited to the F1 Grand Prix. She doesn’t really understand the race, but she found your childlike glee over a bunch of cars… endearing. It’s slightly childish that she feels a bit upset by you leaving so suddenly, but these last few weeks have felt blissful ever since your confession. She finds herself wanting to stay in this bubble the two of you have created for as long as she can. “Oh, right…”

“Why, what’s up?”

“Nothing… just wondering ‘cause my family’s actually flying in this weekend,” Jenna admitted, gauging your reaction, noting the way you stood straighter on your feet.

“They are?”

Jenna hummed. “Yeah, they’re here for a week. They were gonna stay at a hotel but if you’re going to Monaco then…”

You blinked, unsure if you should ask why she didn’t tell you her family was flying in sooner. “Oh yeah, no problem. Listen, it’s your apartment.”

Jenna rolled her eyes, correcting you, “It’s our apartment. You’re living here too.”

Chuckling, you averted your eyes. “Well, in that case. Mi casa es su casa.”

“Your Spanish needs a bit of work...” But Jenna can’t fight her smile.

“Rude,” laughing, you added, “it’s probably best to skip town though— your family’s probably still mad at me.”

Jenna immediately rounds the counter to stand in front of you, shaking her head in denial. “They’re not mad, Y/N. I already told you.”

You shoot her a grimaced smile, “I know, I’m just joking, but I’m still scared of your sisters… Also, your mom may or may not have texted me about that paparazzi pic of you smoking cigarettes.”

Her brows raised, as her jaw dropped, “she did?”

You hummed in response.

“Fuck…” She grumbled, causing you to laugh. “What did she say?”

“Nothing you haven’t already heard from her Instagram stories…” You smirked, enjoying her annoyed scowl.

“Shut up.”

“Hey, it’ll be alright.” You placed a hand on her shoulder, lightly rubbing it. Ignoring the way she straightened her posture at your touch. “A scolding is probably the most you’ll get out of her.”

“I’m 20 years old, I can do whatever I want.” Dropping your hand, you laughed again.

“You may think you’re grown but she’s always going to be your mom. She’s just looking out for you. Not to mention, she’s a nurse, what'd you expect?” You jest but she rolled her eyes, staring up at you with a slight pout in her frown causing your heart to stop dead in its tracks; desperately trying to stare at her lips for too long.

Maybe it was the confession, or the ‘clearing the air’ that you two have done. But every touch and look from Jenna feels weighted — in a pleasant way, this time.

She sighed heavily, leaning her hip on the kitchen island. “I know… it’s just embarrassing.”

“At least you know she cares.” You chuckled, patting her shoulder reassuringly before walking off to the living room.

She ignored the possible meaning behind your words. Although she’d love to dive into the story of your mom and hear it from your account, maybe having that conversation at five o’clock in the morning isn’t the best idea.

“Come on, finish up and go shower. You’re gonna be late.” You called out behind you before plopping on the couch.

“You better wash those dishes…”

“Ugh, later.” You groaned. “I need a nap.”

—

Jenna (2:35 PM): hope you’re having a great time in Monaco 🖤

“Get off your phone…” Tom said before snatching the device right from your hand.

“Dude…”

“You’re in Monaco with the best cars and drivers in the entire world and you’re glued to your phone – what’re you looking at anyway.” the Brit commented, reading the text before you could stop him. “Aw… how cute, she sent a heart.”

“Shut up. You literally made us late ‘cause you spent all night talking to Z.” Attempting to grab your phone back was futile when he held it out of reach, tossing it to Link who was enjoying this interaction judging by the large grin smacked on his face.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Tom defended but it fell on deaf ears as soon as you saw Link begin to scroll through your past messages with Jenna.

“Link… give it back, I need to respond!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll text her back.” Link winked before typing a response. You immediately leapt out of your seat, plucking your phone out of his grasp but it was too late, he’d already sent the message.

“Thinking about you? Really?” You deadpanned despite the warmth coursing fervently through your cheeks. “You’re such an ass…”

“You’re just mad that I finally said what you were really thinking.” He called out as you walked away, fingers slightly trembling as you hit the call button. You wait a few (agonizingly long) seconds, listening to the line ring.

“Hey…”

��Oh, hey,” there was some shuffling on the other line, “I was just about to text you back.”

“About that… sorry about that text, Link was being an asshole and took my phone.” You muttered sheepishly; trembling fingers picking at your trousers to counter the nerves that suddenly overcame you.

“Oh? So you weren’t thinking about me?” Her tone is light and teasing. You paint a mental image of her bright, wide smile that usually accompanied her playful taunts; it sent a flurry of butterflies swarming around in your belly.

You pass it off as a stomach ache from your breakfast this morning.

“Come on…” You trail off, not wanting to admit it.

“Wow, I see how it is…”

“Jenna…” You sighed, dropping your fiddling fingers. “Of course, I was thinking about you.”

The line is silent as Jenna doesn’t respond and suddenly you feel embarrassed at your school-girl-like confession. Though it’s technically only been two days since you left London for Monaco, you’d be lying straight through your teeth if you were to deny the fact that you’ve been thinking about the younger actress since the moment you stepped out of the shared apartment.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” Jenna replied in a small voice. Her admittance causes your heart to stop momentarily but what you couldn’t stop, however, was the satisfied smile creeping on your lips.

Was it pathetic that all Jenna had to do was say a simple, cliché sentence to you and you were practically a puddle on the floor? Maybe, but you couldn’t care less about that right now.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Glad we’re on the same page then…” You uttered, glancing around, hoping no one could see your Cheshire grin. Immediately catching Tom and Link at the other end of the balcony making kissing faces at you. You stick up the not-so-nice finger at them before turning your back on the two men, ignoring their blatant and obnoxious laughter, “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything when I called.”

Jenna was supposed to be on set working today, you’d hate to interrupt a busy day’s work…. That’s a lie, this phone call was totally worth it.

“Oh no, you didn’t. I’m actually at the apartment.”

“I thought you’d still be on set?”

“Um, about that…” She trails off in a sheepish tone.

“Jen? What’s wrong?” You asked, panic evident.

“I might’ve—uh—injured myself at work today.” She admitted.

“What?! Are you okay? How? Do you need me to come ba—“

“Y/N… breathe.” She interjects your nervous questioning but it merely goes over your head. Your nerves sky-rocketing the longer she doesn’t answer your questions.

“Are you okay?” You repeated what you really needed to know first.

“I’m fine, I promise,” she chuckled, “just a sprained ankle. I twisted it during rehearsal. It’s not a big deal but they sent me home early to rest.”

“Are you icing it? Keeping it elevated? You know what, send me a picture I wanna see if the swelling is bad.”

Jenna’s laughter doubles. “I’m okay. I promise. Yes, I'm icing it and yes I’m keeping it elevated. You don't have to play doctor. I’ll even send you a picture, just relax.”

“I’m just worried.”

“I know you are.” She said, almost like she was endeared. “But like I said, it’s just a sprained ankle. They gave me crutches, so I’m good.”

“Crutches?! Do I need to come back home?”

Jenna ignored how her heart swooped at the word: home.

“No,” she laughed, “enjoy your time with the boys and your cars. You looked good on that racetrack, you sure being an actress is your calling?”

You rolled your eyes at her choice of timing for a joke, “You know I’ll leave them in a heartbeat. Just say the word and I’ll be on the first flight back.”

On the other end of the line, Jenna is torn between swooning and mentally cursing you for being so sweet. She bit her lip to subdue the smile creeping in, “that’s very sweet, Y/N, but I promise. I’ll be okay, my family’s flying in on Sunday anyway. I’ll be fine until then.”

You sighed unsurely, “Are you sure?” That’s still a few days where she’d have to be alone until someone could help her around the house.

“Yes! Now go, enjoy Monaco. Maybe I’ll even turn on the racing channel or whatever and get a glimpse of you.”

“You did not just say the racing channel…”

“Go!” She laughed and this time, you relent at her assured tone.

“Fine… but if anything else happens, call me, please?”

“You’ll be the first one to know, I promise.”

“Okay…” You take a deep breath hoping to calm your nerves. If Jenna says she’s okay, then you have no reason to go against her wishes. “I’ll text you?”

“Mhmm. Bye, be safe.”

“Bye…” You hang up, dropping the phone from your ear, anxiously tapping it against your other hand as you contemplate your options.

“That was a long call,” Link swung his arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side. “You already miss your girl? It’s only been a day.”

“Quit it. She’s not my girl.” You back-hand him squarely on the stomach causing him to heave out a rough, pained puff. The satisfaction of seeing your best friend in pain was a dull noise in the background of your restless thoughts. “She injured herself on set, I was just making sure she’s okay.”

You chewed on your lip nervously, ignoring Link’s probing eyes as he scanned your faraway look.

“Is it serious?”

“No, just a sprained ankle.”

Link continued to observe you; seeing straight through you. An amused smile painted itself squarely on his lips. “... you’re gonna leave, aren’t you?”

—

“What the— I told you to stay. What are you doing here?”

“And I told you to send me a picture of your sprain.”

Jenna frowned, closely watching as you slipped the duffle bag off your shoulders; landing on the hardwood with a loud thud.

“Get back on the couch. You shouldn’t be walking.” You ordered, briefly scanning her head-to-toe and letting out a concealed sigh of relief that her ankle didn’t seem too bad.

“I’m injured, not crippled.” She replied unamused. You meet her eyes, mimicking her expression until the brunette realized you’re not backing down. “Fine…”

“Let me help you.” You stepped forward, taking a closer look at her injury. Her left ankle was covered in a compression wrap as she hobbled around with a single crutch.

“I’m fine.”

“Jenna, let me help.” You said in a serious tone, not backing down.

She rolled her eyes, slowly turning around with her crutch to walk back to the living room, hoping you missed her rosy cheeks. She ignored the intense thudding in her chest as you walked together. The thought of you leaving a trip that obviously meant a lot to you, sent the younger actress’ heart into a frenzy.

“What are you doing here?” The younger actress asked again once she was comfortably seated on the sofa.

You took a seat beside her, “I was worried.”

“I told you I was fine, you’re acting like I’m on my deathbed.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the pillow behind you and placed it between you and Jenna. Scooting back to gesture for her to rest the injured ankle on the pillow. “I wouldn’t have enjoyed the race knowing that you’re back in London with an injury… so, I left.”

Jenna stayed silent, not trusting herself to say what she was really feeling. So she opted to stare as you examined her wrapped ankle, seemingly satisfied that her injury wasn’t as bad as you had thought.

“I’m just trying to be a good friend… and roommate.” You joked, grabbing the discarded remote off the coffee table. Ignoring the way your skin burned the longer she stared at you unspeaking.

Jenna snorted at your words, grabbing the pillow behind her and playfully lunging it at you. You caught the feeble attempt. “Right, roommate.”

You laughed at the tone that accompanied her words, “how did you hurt yourself anyway?”

If Jenna’s cheeks turned any rosier, she’d be the human embodiment of a tomato. It was embarrassing, really and she blames Aliyah for sending that video.

She might’ve been too distracted watching a clip of you and Tom walking along the racetrack, waving to the crowd. As luck would have it, she was supposed to be rehearsing for a scene, walking over to her next marking. However, one misstep over a wire sent her ankle twisting in an abnormal way. “I wasn’t paying attention to the marking on the floor and I tripped over a loose wire.”

Jenna was definitely not going to tell you the truth. You’d never let her hear the end of it.

You sent her a questioning look, “I don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad.”

“Is it too late for you to go back to Monaco?” She joked, straight-faced.

“I’m kidding, of course, I feel bad.“ You settled back into a comfortable position.

“How did you get back so fast?” She inquired.

“It’s only a two-hour flight.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Jenna noted that you were on the phone merely two and a half hours ago. “You got through security that fast?”

You blush red.

As soon as the jet landed on the tarmac and the seatbelt lights turned off, you were posted by the doors; impatiently tapping your foot on the floor.

“Miss L/N, your driver is waiting just outside.” The flight attendant alerted you. You nodded, sending a tight-lipped smile.

“Thank you.”

When the doors opened and the stairs hit the pavement, you were already rushing down the steps, making eye contact with the driver.

“Miss, I can take your bags.”

“That’s alright.” You tossed them in the back seat before shutting the doors. “How fast can you get back to the apartment?”

“GPS says 45 minutes but there is heavy traffic on the highway.”

“I’ll drive.” You held your hand out. He looked unsure before seeing that you were not playing around, swiftly handing the keys over.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You made sure to tip the man handsomely after noticing his white-knuckle grip on the grab handles as you maneuvered through said traffic.

“Uh yeah and I got lucky, no traffic. Anyways….wanna watch Breaking Bad? Unless you finished it already, in that case, we can watch something else.” You changed the subject, Jenna didn’t need to know how you drove that SUV like it was a race car and broke multiple speeding laws just to get here.

“No, Breaking Bad is good. I haven’t watched it since we were at my parents' house.”

You turn, evidently surprised that she kept your unspoken promise. Trying to hide your growing smile, you face the TV again before the staring becomes too obvious.

“Me too.”

—

“Are you sure you’re fine to go to work today? It’s only been like, a day.”

It’s Sunday morning, too early for anyone to be awake. With the sky still covered in a blanket of darkness, you tiredly lean against the wall, trying your best to string coherent words together as you reason with Jenna, who lightly limped around the large room as she gets ready for work.

“Technically, it’s been two.” She glanced at you momentarily. “I don’t want to delay production.”

“Jenna, you're injured. They can get a stand-in or just not film your scenes today.” You argued. Having had your fair share of on-set injuries, you knew that a major film could afford to delay filming for the sake of an injury. This was merely Jenna’s workaholic tendencies making her feel that she couldn’t stop working. “They can and should accommodate for you, Jenna.”

At your gruffed tone, Jenna dropped what she was looking for, walking over to stand in front of you. “Hey…”

You glanced at your hands, ignoring her soft tone. “Look at me, please?”

Jenna grabbed your hand, drawing your attention to her. “I’ll be okay. If my ankle starts to bother me, I’ll let the director know.”

“You promise?” You asked, glancing down when she started rubbing soft lines against your skin.

“I promise.” She squeezed for good measure.

You studied her soft gaze, attentive to the assured glimmer behind them. Letting out a sigh, you pushed your worries aside. “Okay.”

She smiled at your obvious concern, dropping your hand to walk back to the living room.

You try not to draw attention to the way your fingers twitched at the loss of contact. “By the way, my family will be here at noon. Are you good to be alone with them while I’m at work?”

“Yeah… I think I’ll be fine.” To distract yourself, you walked off to the kitchen, grabbing a mug for your morning coffee; allowing a gentle silence to envelop the room as Jenna hobbled around and gathered her things.

“Crap!” Jenna suddenly said, emerging out of her room.

“What?” You turned, slightly startled. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to set up the guest bedroom for them.”

“Oh.” Your shoulders dropped. “I already did it, don’t worry.”

Her brows raised, “you called the housekeeper already?”

“No. I did it myself. We don’t need him.”

Jenna seemed surprised if the raised brows were anything to go by. It was amusing truly, but you elected to stay silent, turning back to make your coffee.

“Thank you…” She finally said.

“Don’t mention it.” You shrugged, “If you want, I can pick up your family at the airport too. Heathrow is a bitch to navigate.”

Jenna didn’t respond, just staring at your back from her spot in the living room. You were unaware of her internal turmoil.

“Jen?” You turned around when you realized she didn’t reply; just staring at you with an unwavering intensity. “Jenna?”

“What?” She blinked a couple of times. “What did you say?”

“I said I can pick up your family from the airport.” You sipped on the steaming mug, a single brow flicking upright in question.

“Oh–uh, no. T-That’s alright, I’m sending a car over to pick them up.” She stuttered pathetically; grateful that the dim lights from the lamp in the corner of the room did well to hide the crimson rising over her neck. “You shouldn’t be seen at Heathrow. You might get spotted.”

“I can wear a disguise.” You thought out loud.

Jenna snorted, pushing away her inner strife. “Oh yeah? Like what, a baseball hat and sunglasses?”

“Hey, it works!” You defended. “Not everyone can just blend in with their height.”

“Was that a short joke?” Jenna arched a sharp brow.

“Nope.” You stood wide-eyed. “Oh hey, I just remembered I left something in my room. Okay. Bye. Have a good day at work.”

Jenna laughed as you scurried off to your bedroom, glad that she hasn’t lost her edge with you.

—

“I can’t believe you cancelled on the driver.”

The younger actress said as soon as you swung the front door open. Faintly, she can hear the familiar sounds of laughter farther into the apartment. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You act like that’s a new fact.” You snicker, a pleased smile plastered on your lips. “I’d like an apology by the way. The disguise worked perfectly — just like I said it would.”

“You’re too much sometimes.” She shook her head, stepping into the hall.

“In the best way, though. Right?” You asked, letting her in.

“If it helps you sleep better.” Jenna shrugged, chucking her work bag on the side table.

“Now look who’s being stubborn.” You replied with a knowing smile. “Go say hi and then wash up. Natalie and I are making dinner.”

She raised her brows in surprise as you walked away. Her footsteps faltering when she walks into the living room. Gaze instantly landing on her sisters and Dad lounging on the couch, in the corner of her eyes she finds her mom who was chopping up vegetables on the kitchen island.

“Hey, guys…” She said slowly, still taking the scene in front of her.

“Jen!” Mia sprung up from her seat and tugged her sister into a tight hug.

One by one, Aliyah, her dad and her mom sauntered over to greet and fret over her. Sentiments of I miss you, echoing in the vast apartment.

“It’s good to see you, honey.” Her mom said with a smile. “I hope you’ve been taking care of that ankle.”

Jenna rolled her eyes at her Mom’s fretting but nodded reassuringly. “I’m okay, Mom. Y/N’s been helping me.”

“So I’ve heard.” She winked, walking away.

“Uh– you guys made yourselves comfortable…” Jenna cleared her throat as she watched how her mom swiftly walked back to the kitchen where you were leaning against the island, observing her family with a small smile.

“Y/N said to make yourselves at home. Blame her.” Aliyah said, tugging her onto the couch. “How’s filming been? How’s working with Winona Ryder, tell me everything!”

“Great uh–what’s for dinner?” Was the first question the actress asked, too distracted by watching your concentrated expression. The slight scrunch in your forehead as you closely listened to her mom’s instructions was more interesting than what her sister was asking her.

“Mom’s teaching her how to make frijoles.” Mia smirked at her sister’s doe-eyed look.

“Oh…” Jenna replied with a vacant tone. “Sounds good.”

“Do you have any pictures in your wardrobe—“

“Why frijoles?” She added, interrupting Aliyah when she tried to spark another series of questions.

“Y/N heard it was one of your favourites, said she wanted to learn how to make it for you.” Mia replied, her tone smug.

“She did?” Jenna’s brow raised, still unable to look away from you.

“I think we lost her,” Aliyah sighed to Mia, giving up on having her questions answered.

Jenna rolled her eyes when her sisters burst into laughter, blinking back to reality. “Shut up. What were you saying?”

She forced herself to look away and give her undivided attention to her sisters. Pretending not to notice as you kept glancing at her from the kitchen.

—

“Wow this looks amazing, are you sure you helped, Y/N?” Aliyah teased from the dining table.

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious.” You mocked, walking over with a bowl of guacamole, placing it at the centre of the table. “Wait ‘till you try my guac.”

“I always make the that.” Jenna trailed off, sneaking a peek at the bowl.

“I know.” You took your seat beside her. “Your mom showed me how you like to make it. I hope it’s close.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that…” She reached for a chip and dipped a large chunk into the green goodness. You watched intently for a reaction but she gave you none; continuing to chew on.

“It’s good.” She finally says.

“That’s it?”

“What? I said it’s good.” Jenna laughed at your sullen expression; almost feeling bad. Once your bottom lip popped out in disappointment, she dropped her act, reaching for your arm and squeezing it. “I’m kidding. It’s great, it tastes exactly how I make it back home… but you know, you can’t beat the original.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.” You repeated her words.

Before Jenna can reply with a quip, her mom walked over with the last bowl of food, disrupting your conversation. But it was all forgotten when the younger actress’ nose welcomed the familiar scent of all of her favourite dishes. She enthusiastically eyed the various dishes scattered on the table, not having had her family’s cooking in what felt like forever. Living with you wasn’t bad – actually, it’s been more than great, but you were serious when you said you lacked skills in the kitchen. That resulted in dinners mostly being take-out these days.

“Have you tried frijoles before?” Jenna asked you.

“Uh–no.” You blushed. “I actually didn’t even know they were beans until today.”

“You’ll love it.” She grinned, reaching over to plate you a generous helping. You refused to tell her that you didn’t necessarily love beans because her excited expression overpowered any dislike you had for the legume.

—

“You’re still up?” You called out after a brief glance, the pitter-patter of light footsteps coming down the hall, alerting you of her presence.

“Mhm, I heard the clanking of dishes from my room.” She replied, leaning against the counter, watching as you dried off the dishes one by one. “What’re you doing?”

“Sorry. I’ll keep it down.” You grimaced apologetically. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d unload the dishes.”

“It’s okay, I’m actually not too tired too.” She stepped forward, only an arm’s length away from you. “Can I help?”

Wordlessly, you passed her a dry cloth and a bowl from the dishwasher. For a while, silence enveloped the room. You were grateful that you and the brunette can exist in silence, sometimes. Her mere presence provided a certain level of comfort that you’re still trying to get used to.

“So…” She spoke up after a few minutes, gaining your attention. “You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh.”

You raise an amused brow at the baiting look in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jenna would’ve believed that statement if it weren’t for the small smile at the corner of your lips telling her otherwise.

“Right… so, you just pick up all your friends’ parents from the airport and do chores, willingly.”

“I’m turning over a new leaf.” You shrugged, continuing to wipe away remnants of water from the plate. Hoping the mundane action hid your trembling fingers well.

“Oh, are you?”

“Yup.”

“So this isn’t you trying to win me over?”

“Me try to win you over? Whaaat?” You puffed out an airy scoff, “that’s ridiculous. I would never. I wholeheartedly respect your decision.”

But the crinkle in your eyes told her that you were enjoying this way too much.

“Sure…” Jenna rolled her eyes, “even if you are just doing this out of the kindness of your own heart—“

“Which, I am.”

Jenna sends a playful glower at your interruption.

“Just wanted to put that on record.” You added.

“Thank you.” Jenna declared, her tone soft yet serious. “You’ve been incredible these last few days.”

“Oh.” You blink, a pleased smile plastered on your face. “You’re welcome, Jen. It’s no big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me.” The bowl and cloth in her hands were long forgotten on the counter as she closed the distance between you. “No one’s ever done any of… this, for me—thank you.”

The air feels charged as she suddenly looks at you with that doe-eyed stare. Feeling like your heart rate instantly doubles, the longer she stares at you like that.

“What? Be nice?” You said evenly, “You need to set your standards higher.”

She huffed at your antics. “I’m being serious.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” you laughed shakily, trying to gather some semblance of control over your racing pulse. “Like I said, it’s not a big deal, Jen… cause I’d do anything for you.”

She blinked, voice caught in her throat she took in the serious glint in your eyes; voice dripping with conviction

“And this isn’t me trying to win you over. You’ll know when I do.”

The younger actress’ body feels like it’s on fire the longer she listens to your words.

“Uh, sorry, too much?” You said apologetically when she remained unspeaking.

But Jenna was already shaking her head, a faraway look in her eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“No…” She murmured, her sight drifting down to your lips before they flicker back up to your eyes. “Not at all.”

“Okay…” Your gaze bore intently into hers, waiting to see if she’ll make the first move. “Good.”

For a brief moment, her eyes flicker back down for a second time but then she’s blinking out of her self-induced stupor, “um–I should go to sleep. I need to be up early.” Jenna hoped her ogling on your soft lips wasn’t too obvious.

She steps back and almost instantaneously, the tension in the room dissipates with each movement she takes.

You nod, smiling softly despite the slight tinge of disappointment you felt; knowing that you shouldn’t rush into this with her. “Good idea, you should rest your ankle… good night, Jenna.”

Just before you turned back to grab the discarded dry cloth, Jenna takes a hesitant step—before she can lose her nerve and leaned up to plant her lips on the pad of your cheek.

Your brain felt like it short-circuited; not having felt her lips in forever as your skin burned against the delicate contact.

“Good night, Y/N.” She whispered, her soft lips grazing your cheek in a way that drove you crazy.

Before your brain could rewire itself well enough to form a response, Jenna was already turning around to retreat back to her room.

Biting your lip to contain the growing smile, you couldn’t look away from her figure until she disappeared behind the door.

Shit…

You’re in deeper than you thought.

——

if there was any mistakes… look away (i tried my best 🧍‍♀️)

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#legally binded #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #wednesday netflix

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fxrmuladaydreams · 5 months

Text

broaden your horizons (sv5)

pornstar!seb x camgirl/pornstar!reader

summary: sebastian suggests you broaden your horizons, little does he know just how much his suggestion hurts you

notes: i hope you guys are enjoying this au, this is the first chapter without smut, so we’re getting into the actual meat of the story, i know this is a pretty short chapter but we needed the drama

prev part next part

Sebastian’s video had done just as well as yours had done the previous week. Audiences were begging to see more videos with the two of you together. He smiled to himself reading through all of the comments. Most were compliments, or more so crude comments to you. It turns out you were a hit. Sebastian really struck gold collaborating with you.

He liked filming with you, that was clear to him early on, but he didn’t expect to feel a tug in his heart when he was away from you. He didn’t think he’d long for the time you had together after filming, cuddled up together. He was surprised when he realized just how much he longed to have you near him, even without any plans to film new videos.

It was wrong, growing attached to someone you worked with. Sure, he had multiple girls ask him out after filming with him, but he always turned them down. He told them that he didn’t date anyone he filmed with. And he was more than willing to keep his word, until he met you.

Things would become complicated if he were to act on these feelings that had begun to fester inside him. He probably wouldn’t be able to film videos with anyone else anymore, and he knew for a fact he wouldn’t like it if you did either.

So in an attempt to stop his heart from growing even more attached to you, he called up a girl that he had filmed a few videos with before and scheduled to film another. He was trying to take steps into creating a more professional relationship with you, but still couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat whenever he got a text notification or a phone call, then for it to fall when it wasn’t you trying to contact him.

It was in a moment of weakness for him that he had invited you over to his house to hang out. He claimed he was bored and had a few new movies to watch, and asked if you wanted to join him. The truth was he was tired of the texts and phone calls, and decided to give into his desire to have you around him.

It was the first time you’d ever been to Sebastian’s house. It was clean, neat, although it seemed like it was missing something, like the space could use a little more life in it.

Sebastian had guided you to his living room and ordered a pizza for the two of you to share. He turned the first movie on, then the second, then the third, until it was late into the evening.

You were more than content spending this time with Sebastian, a small prt of you wondered if he was going to ask you to stay the night.

You had started your movie marathon on opposite ends of his couch, yet slowly started to find yourselves inching closer to one another, until you were practically sitting on his lap. He had an arm thrown around your shoulders, holding you to his chest, and the other over your legs which laid over his lap.

You could feel your eyes become heavy as the last movie played, and let sleep overcome you before it had ended.

Sebastian hadn’t noticed that you’d fallen asleep on him until the credits started rolling. He felt you bury your face further into his chest as he shifted. He smiles down at you and brushes the hair away that had fallen into your face.

He carefully lifts you up in his arms and walks you to his room. He lays you on top of the bed and pulls a blanket over you. He debates crawling into bed next to you, the idea of waking up with you wrapped in his arms is way more tempting to him than it should be. But he decides against it, instead grabbing his own blanket and sleeping on the couch.

He wakes up the next morning to hear you padding around his kitchen. He sits up to see you standing over his stove, cooking.

“Good morning schatz.” He says, his voice groggy from sleep.

You smile before turning back to look at him. He’s struggling to keep his eyes open, and his blonde hair is a mess on top of his head. His German accent is thick and his voice is deep. He gives you a tired smile, slowly making his way into the kitchen with you.

“Good morning Seb.”

“You didn’t have to make breakfast.” He says.

“And you didn’t have to sleep on your couch.” You tell him pointedly.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He gives you a soft smile then gets plates from his cupboard to serve the breakfast you’ve cooked.

You sit at the small table he has as you eat. Sun shines in through the blinds, you can hear birds singing outside. This feels far too intimate and domestic, but neither of you wants to stop.

You help him wash the dishes, he playfully splashes a little water on you after you bump his hip with yours, giggling at the soapy mess he’s made of the counter.

You sit on his couch afterwards, you not wanting to leave, and him not wanting to ask you to.

You feel like this is the beginning of something new for the two of you. You never expected to become this close to someone you worked with, but it seems like the two of you fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

“So I was thinking about maybe filming some more stuff with you? I mean, obviously people like us together. We could do like a livestream or something?” You ask, sharing an idea that had been floating around in your head for a little bit.

He’d love to film with you again. But there’s a little siren going off in his head. You’re getting too close, back away. He nods. “We could, yeah. I’d have to check my schedule.” He says.

“Oh, I’m sorry, if you’re too busy that’s okay.”

He shakes his head. “No, no, it’s fine. I’d like to film with you again.” He pauses. “I just have a day planned to film with someone else soon.”

It feels like the breath is stolen from your lungs. You feel yourself deflate a little.

“Oh. Alright.”

You shouldn’t have expected him to only be filming with you, he was a famous pornstar, he probably had women lining up to film with him.

“It’s not that big a deal. She’s pretty easy to work around.” He says, his heart begins to hammer in his chest as he sees you become more tense.

“You’ve filmed with her before?”

He nods. “A couple of times.”

Everything you’ve done together flashes through your mind. All of the sweet words and kind gestures, intimate moments you thought were shared between the two of you, were they just a carbon copy of what he’d already done with other girls?

“Maybe you should try filming with someone else?” He suggests. Honestly the last thing he wants is to see you on his computer with someone else’s dick inside you, but for some reason he can’t stop himself from speaking. “See if you like it. Broaden your horizons.”

You feel sick to your stomach. He’s used you, he’s able to say that he was the first one to have you, and now he’s tossing you aside.

“I think I’m going to head out.” You say, getting up from the couch.

He follows you as you walk to his door. “It was nice having you schatz.”

His words, though unintentional, feel like the final knife in your heart.

“Could you send me Daniel’s contact info?”

“Sure.”

#sebastian vettel x reader #formula one x reader #sv5

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areislol · 4 months

Text

The stalker

►— pairings. genshin men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. mentions of stalking/a stalker (if it makes you uncomfortable please don't read), implies that reader enjoys coffee (sorry if you're not a coffee enjoyer), slight sprinkle of angst, crack/fluff, proofread

►— a/n. for some reason this feels more like a filler than an actual eventful chapter. sigh i hope you guys enjoy this! I'm also writing a sahau headcanon :)

►— wordcount. 6.4k

recommended to listen to: snooze- sza

Having a stalker would be the last thing you could ever imagine having and experiencing.

You weren't exactly that good looking (in your opinion anyway), you were just average. You didn't have any powers or anything, so why would someone pick you out of billions of people to stalk?

The idea itself was baffling, it was even more chilling with the fact that you were quite literally talking and interacting with your stalker. It was utterly horrifying with the fact that he was so close to you, so close that he could snatch you if he wanted to—take you away.

As you lay still on your bed your mind was flooding with the images of the man, his black hoodie hiding his upper face, his twisted smile. You heaved a sigh before turning around, your face meeting with Ayato's.

He was gorgeous. He looked so heavenly and handsome that's for sure. The inner corner of your lips tug upwards as you examine his face, it seems as if his face immediately calmed you down. Your eyes soften as you continue to watch him, his chest heaving up and down gently.

But as the constant fear and unease had taken its toll on your mind, the thoughts of your stalker seemed to consume you despite how hard you tried to push them away.

The room was wrapped in an eerie blue hue, mirroring the turmoil within you. The morning light has yet pierced through the darkness, but the blue outside seemed to mock your unsettled state of mind. As you sat up in your bed, you heaved a great sigh before running your fingers through your tangled hair, groaning in frustration.

What was today going to be like? Could you really go back to work after being informed about the fact that you literally have a STALKER? Who in the right mind would go back to work after that?!

.... Except for you, we don't count you in. You desperately needed the money for college and couldn't just skip a day off of work because you felt unsafe, technically you can but what about the money? You needed it.

Your face was buried in the palms of your hands as you took a deep breath. Suddenly, you were pulled out of your thoughts by a soft groan followed by the sounds of the blanket rustling and a groan.

A soft, raspy yet sultry voice allures you, making your stomach flip.

"Already awake, darling? Isn't it a bit too—" Ayato yawned as his voice stretched, strands of hair softly drooped and covering half of his face even more. As you pulled away from your palms and stared at Ayato, seeing him looking drowsy and tired (yet so handsome) made you smile.

"A bit too early..." he continued, blinking groggily towards you. The corner of his lips tugged outwards as the realization dawned on him, he was sleeping beside you, a beauty, his creator. A red hue soon makes its way to his cheeks, you watch him curiously, his reaction is adorable (although you don't know why he is suddenly so red).

You shake your head, stretching your arms as a soft groan slips out of your mouth. "Not really, I... have to go to work." You replied, trying your best not to sound upset. But despite that Ayato could see right through you.

He knew there was something off but did not speak up with his thoughts, maybe he was wrong? After a few minutes, you both decide to get out of bed, careful not to wake up the rest.

The sounds of the tap running and stopping indicated that a few were awake, not only that but you could hear the sounds of sizzling, Thoma or Aether were already cooking breakfast. You were always so thankful for them, they made you breakfast, kept you company and were there when you needed them.

As you hopped off your bed you held onto Ayato's arm for support as you had slept in an awkward and weird position, applying pressure to your legs which eventually led to them being sore. Ayato enjoyed every second of your touch.

"Are you sure you don't want me to carry you? I wouldn't mind, really." Ayato offered, trying to convince you to let him carry you, obviously, you politely denied him. "There's no need, thank you though!"

After spending a couple of minutes brushing your teeth and washing your face with Ayato, you both went your own way with him going to the kitchen while you went back into your bedroom to wake up the rest of the men.

You were unsure why some were still sleeping in as they usually were awake before you, but it seemed like they were tired. "Good morning, wake up everybody!" You yelled, careful not to startle them too much. Collective groans could be heard followed by the rustles of bed sheets.

Aether turns on his back and lets out a sigh. "I'm awake.." He groans, rubbing his eyes and sitting up on the mattress. He groggily blinks at you before giving you a small smile. He was so adorable. And his messy bed hair didn't help either.

Itto grumbled and hid under the sheets. "Five more minutes... I need to finish my dream.." He mumbled before snoring off. You sighed and shook your head before walking towards Itto and crouching to his figure. Could a dream really be that interesting?

After poking his head a few times to get him to wake up, Itto rolled on his back and let out a huff. "Why don't you just sleep in with me? Aren't you tired?" He yawned, rubbing his eyes.

You shake your head. "No, not really. Now get up" Itto reluctantly got up when you heard Wanderer scoff. "So lazy." Wanderer gives Itto one last glance before walking out of your room, probably heading to the bathroom.

Itto groans, his morning was already somewhat ruined. "Don't think too much about it." And with that, you left the room with Itto clinging onto your arm with no plan of letting go of you either.

It was funny as this buff and hunkier man was clinging onto YOUR much smaller arm.

You both make your way towards the living room and into the kitchen, the smell of warm bread fills your nose. Toast? You thought as you seated yourself down in front of the table.

Itto plants himself right beside you, reluctantly letting go of your arm. "Good morning Y/n, did you sleep well?" Tighnari asks, seating himself beside you as well. Tighnari set down a book alongside a cup of warm water.

You nod your head when you remember something.

"Oh, I slept well thank you. What about you though? I remember falling asleep beside you... oh, and I was touching something soft as well."

You notice how Tighnari seems flustered by your words as his ear twitched. He clears his throat softly before replying. "That's good to hear and I slept pretty well."

He left it at that, he replied to everything but your last sentence. You slowly nod your head—signifying for him to go on. Tighnari's cheeks reddened before speaking.

"You fell asleep while touching my ears. I assume they helped you fall asleep?" He teased, a small smirk appearing on his lips. You had a hunch that he already knew the answer.

You didn't want to lie of course, yes, you did sleep better while touching his ears but it was still a bit.. awkward to admit. But to your luck Thoma came over, holding a cup of warm, delicious-smelling coffee as well as a plate of cheese toast.

Something small and simple but delicious. You let out a soft and relieved sigh, Thoma was right on time—reliving you from the awkwardness of answering the very embarrassing question.

(It really wasn't that awkward but to you it was.)

He places the plate and cups down on the table before muttering a soft and gentle "Good morning". "Where did you learn to make this? It tastes amazing!" You beamed, taking a sip of the warm coffee. Thoma offers a tender smile as he seats himself down and replies.

"I watched a video about it on the TV, an.. ad I think it was? It was quite informative, really! Although the ingredients were a bit worrying. Should you really be drinking that so early in the morning?"

You could tell from his tone that he was worried and you could've sworn you felt a jab at your heart. You wave your hand, dismissing his comment. "Nah, it'll be okay."

"You'll be okay?" "Yeah, I will don't worry."

Thoma smiles uncertainly but nonetheless watches you eat your food, Tighnari goes back to reading his book about flowers and nature as Itto munches on his sandwich.

The sounds of a newslady could be heard from the living room, you occasionally glanced over to the boy and the TV, enjoying the beautiful sight of the men as they watched the news carefully and attentively.

After a couple of minutes, you finished your breakfast and got up from your seat, Tighnari and Itto had already gotten up first and were sitting on the couch along with the others—commenting alongside the news reporter.

You were used to this now. You made your way to the sink and carefully placed your dish in the sink before turning on the tap, soaking the dishes with water so that it would be easier to wash later on.

Normally you would wash your own dishes but felt unmotivated to do anything today, but alas you still had to go to work. Just the mere thought of returning to work and maybe even facing your regular customer you now know as your stalker.

Shuddering at the thought you slowly make your way to your coffee table and grab your bag as well as your house keys (not that you use it much nowadays), you really wanted to spend time with the men but of course, you had to go to work.

Albedo gives you a look as he watches you get your things, ready to leave to go to work. He, along with the others, knew something was up. You were slightly more timid, more than usual.

And also that message you had received? Oh yeah, they did not forget that message "Mark Holey" guy sent you last night. "Leaving already?" Albedo questions. You reply back, not looking at Albedo as you speak—too busy focusing on

"Yeah I have to help prepare some cakes today so I need to go there earlier. Stay safe okay? I'll be back at four (4) PM probably."

He only gives you a silent nod when you turn around and look at him. Noticing the look on his face you knew something was wrong. But you didn't want to pry, the same went for you.

Since last night after getting the message Albedo, Dainsleif and a couple more were suspicious and concerned. You had never mentioned a guy named "Mark" before, maybe he was your friend, but either way, they had never seen him pop up on your screen.

It wasn't like they could just tell you about it though, what if you thought they were weird for looking at your phone? Would you be mad at them for being so concerned over something so little? Their thoughts could never catch a break.

Gorou fought his urge to jump on you and tightly embrace you in his arms. But with a few quick and knowing looks thrown towards him, he knew better. As you slipped on your shoes in a hurry, Neuvillette got up from the couch and towards you, standing behind you awkwardly yet with such authority.

You finally put your foot on the ground after struggling to put on your shoes and as you turn around to bid the men farewell you almost get a heart attack.

"N-Neuvillette! You scared me.. again." You had jumped a little bit from the scare but you calmed down nonetheless. Neuvillette apologizes, looking at you like a kicked puppy. He looked as if he had done the worst crime in all history (to him it was).

"I apologize... I just wanted to say goodbye and to stay safe." He sounded so sad it made you feel so guilty, you offered him a tender smile before responding. "No need to apologize it's fine! And that's very sweet of you, thank you! I'll be on my way then?"

Neuvillette only silently nods as you twist the doorknob—opening it just enough where you slip through but all of a sudden you feel a warm hand gently resting on your shoulder.

Turning around you were met with Neuvillette once again. "Something wrong?" You asked, brows furrowing as you waited for his reply. Neuvillette's mouth opens slightly, words just about to slip right through but he quickly closes it, his eyes darting away for a brief moment before his gaze sets right back at you.

"Is.. Is there really no way for you to bring us there with you? Can we really not come with you?" His eyes bore into yours, waiting to get an answer out of you. You sigh as your gaze wanders off behind Neuvillette and onto your living room where the rest of the men sit on the ground and couch.

Some were reading books – Al-Haitham, Albedo, Tighnari and Ayato –watching the TV or tampering with your broken gadgets – Albedo, Kaveh, Heizou and Lyney – (such as your poor broken iPad that your younger sister broke in a fit of anger.)

While most were watching you and when your eyes met theirs one at a time a smirk grew on their face. They were all quite a handful, it would look suspicious if you, all of a sudden, bought all 24 men into your pastry shop.

Who wouldn't freak out at the sight of 24 men trailing behind one singular person?!

"Maybe soon, but not right now for sure." Your eyes met up with his once again his deep blue eyes still staring at yours. God that man could maintain eye contact.

And as you two just stood there, not saying a word to each other, the more you noticed how close Neuvillette was getting and before you knew it Neuvillette was leaning down towards you, his face just inches apart from yours.

It was as if he was just about to kiss you, and the thought of him going to kiss you was.. unfathomable. Fathom the Unfathomable am I right?

An awkward silence ensues before Neuvillette sighs, closing his eyes shut before pulling and backing away. You thanked the Lord mentally before letting out a shaky breath. What was that all about?

As the men all waved and sent you goodbye, you waved goodbye yourself before closing the door shut, you were gone now.

"Something is definitely wrong," Albedo speaks up, putting his book down carefully on a table. "Yeah! Whoever is making Our Grace like this will pay!" Itto yelled. Dainsleif cradles his head in his palms as he shakes his head in disappointment.

"The goon's getting too passionate now," Dainsleif mumbled to himself, unbeknownst to him a couple others heard him and they wholeheartedly agreed.

Wanderer shushed Itto but despite that, he agreed with him as well. Whoever was making you feel this way would surely pay. "I thought we wouldn't call Y/n 'Your Grace' anymore?" Al-Haitham spoke, not looking up from his book.

"Oops?" Itto sheepishly smiled at Al-Haitham (who wasn't even looking at him). "Either way, I'm sure if something was troubling them, they would tell us." Al-Haitham continued.

Everybody knew they weren't so close to you, but they felt like they were slowly building their trust in you. Plus, they would never lie to you or do anything to upset you. As a matter of fact they would rather die than upset you in any way.

Even so, they only hoped you could and would confide in them.

Hours passed since you left, they all busied themselves with their own thing. Tighnari and Albedo were exchanging sketching tips and doing sketching challenges, Thoma was resting in your bed as he was tired from doing a "Just Dance" exercise with Itto, Kaeya and Childe.

(You introduced them to Just Dance for funsies, they were intrigued by the songs/lyrics and the dance moves. Some did NOT like to dance and therefore did not do it but when you gave them those darn puppy dog eyes.. they couldn't resist.)

The Fatui were again admiring the view from your window, watching the people doing their own thing. The people's lives here weren't so different from their world but still, it was their creator's world and they were intrigued.

Ayato, Aether and Wriothesley were sitting side by side on chairs as they skimmed through your laptop. You had given them your permission to go on your laptop to do whatever. And they happily accepted with the one condition that they wouldn't go on a site called "Tumblr".

Aether was still learning how to use your laptop and type, they scrolled through Google, typing random words—Dogs, Cats, Pencil, Man, Woman, you name it. While they were looking at cute puppies, Wriothelsye pointed out how there was a tab named "Genshin Impact archon memes".

"Genshin? Isn't that the uh, game-world thing we're from?" He mused, "Click on it." and Aether did so, upon clicking the tab they were brought upon many images of the Archons.

Zhongli, Furina, Raiden Shogun, Venti and Nahida. There were so many images, it was a funny sight. Why was Zhongli pole dancing....? Safe to say they were slightly traumatized. Zhongli himself was embarrassed yet concerned when Aether called him over to see him "bussing it down", as the title said.

In the end, Zhongli forbids them from looking at any other memes. They would just find another way to entertain themselves before you came back home.

"Ugh when will Y/n come back I miss them..." Lyney whined, tapping his finger on the couch in boredom as he lay there, his eyes focused on the door—hoping that he would see the door unlock and that you would be there. But of course, that wouldn't happen.

"Eh I don't know but they said around four to five, am I right, Neuvillette?" Heizou turns to face Neuvillette who is sipping a cup of cold water. "Mhm, you're right."

It was silent from then on as everybody did their own thing when Aether was suddenly reminded of something out of the blue. "Hey guys.. remember that text message thing Y/n got last night?"

A few looked his way in confusion while some hummed in agreement. "What message?" "The one Y/n got last night..? The name was uh.. Marcus Hole?"

"It was 'Mark Holey', Aether." Dainsleif sighed. "Close enough," Aether mumbled back, slightly embarrassed. "But either way, what do you mean? What message did Y/n receive? I wasn't awake." Cyno chimed in, confused.

They spent the next hour or so discussing the mysterious message, making up excuses and ideas of what it meant.

"I don't know that message gave me the creeps." Cyno shudders, "I mean like who sends out a message like that? Weirdo." He continued, and the others agreed. Who on earth just sends out a message like that?

"Maybe Y/n has a secret admirer..?!" Itto suddenly gasps dramatically and loudly, almost giving Kaveh a heart attack.

"Oh please, if anyone was their secret admirer it would be us—" Lyney cuts himself off as he realizes what he said, not only that but all of the stares he was getting (they knew what he said was true).

Lyney cleared his throat. ".. Uh I mean like.. you know?" he tried his best to cover up his words but to no avail. No one commented on what he said, they all did not want to admit to having a crush on you.

If they did outright admit it, wouldn't the others find them a creep? Would you find them to be creepy..?

And that is why they opt to be quiet and only hope to win your heart through actions.

Needless to say, they spent the next hour or so discussing the strange message and what it could've meant.. but on the other hand you... were struggling in the store.

Days would pass when you went to work and returned home, utterly stressed and frustrated. One thing the men all noticed was how happy and content you were before leaving for work, and how less talkative and timid you were coming back home.

It looked as though something had a toll on your health and it pained them to see you like that, they all agreed that they should not pry in case it was sensitive for you but even so, they couldn't help but worry and make sure you were alright there and then.

You lay on your bed, just lying there with a heavy heart and mind. Neuvillette sat on the edge of the bed and watched you silently, although your eyes were covered by your arm you could sense his stare.

"Everything okay, Nevy?" You had all grown accustomed to giving each other nicknames now, by far the stupidest (and cutest, you deny it though) is "Snookums" Can you guess who? Childe.

"I should be the one asking you that," Neuvillette chuckles as he turns to face you, slowly and gently moving your arm away from your face. You cast him a curious look, wondering what he knew and what he didn't.

You knew you were bad at covering up your feelings and lying but was it really that bad? "What do you mean? I'm fine if anything" You huffed, sitting up on your bed.

Neuvillette hummed, observing your face and body language, you were definitely not fine. "Don't give me that look Nevy, I swear I'm fine."

You swear? Should you really be swearing something like that..? You were not fine at all and you knew it.

"Okay fine, something did happen—well, IS happening but it's a very small matter so there's no need for you to worry."

Seconds passed with Neuvillette continuing to stare at you, but the more time passed the more he noticed how uncomfortable you got, obviously you did not want to speak about what was going on.

Neuvillette finally let out a sigh, breaking the silence. "I won't pry, Y/N. But if you ever need anything or advice I'm here, we're here." He hinted that you could talk to anyone you like (ahem the 24 men) not just him.

You were thankful for his kindness but this was your business, you didn't want to drag them into your business. "Could you leave me alone just for a bit? I'm sorry..." Neuvillette dismissed your apology and instead apologized for his behaviour.

"No, it's okay. If anything I apologize for making you uncomfortable. If you need me I'll be in the living room alright? Got to make sure those boys aren't causing a ruckus now."

His words made you smile as you nodded your head, thanking him for leaving you alone. When the door closes shut you flop down back onto your bed, finally letting your tears run freely down your cheeks.

All of your bottled-up feelings came pouring out, and you couldn't help but restrain your sobs. The taste of salt lingered on your lips, you clutched your chest, fingers digging into the fabric. Everything was all too much and you didn't know what to do, what could you do?

As each day passed you were vigilant when heading out, always looking past your shoulders just incase something were to happen. You wouldn't feel a looming presence or anything but the image of a man in a black hoodie with his face covered coming from behind and attacking you was more than enough to keep you on guard.

Your imagination was wild indeed, you thought of many things that could happen to you, maybe he would come up from behind and place a handkerchief over your mouth that was doused in some sleeping drug?!

Maybe he would follow you home and break in through your window..? That couldn't be possible anyway, you had 28 men in your house, and there was no way he would break in unnoticed.

Currently, you were seated down on a chair, swirling a silver spoon in your cup, the darkly coloured brown blending in nicely with the lighter colours, it was a pretty sight, and along with the warm aroma... It was as if the smell itself could take everything off your mind.

Sighing you looked out the window, enjoying the bright and sunny view, totally contrasting the vibe and light in the room you were in. "Mind if I sit here?"

A soft familiar voice drags you out of your thoughts as you look up, it is the woman from before. You hadn't seen her since the day she informed you about your stalker. "Huh? Oh, yeah of course!" You watch as she sets her bag down beside her chair as she sits herself down.

"What were you looking at? And why aren't you working?" She asked, cocking her head in confusion, a sigh escapes your lips before answering. "Enjoying the view I suppose, and I'm just taking a break.. oh! I haven't seen you for a bit.. how are you?"

Thanks to you, you both managed to have a pretty nice conversation, talking about your hobbies and interests and so on, you both exchanged names as well, learning that her name was Elisa.

Just as your laughter died down Elisa cleared her throat before looking around cautiously, her actions caught your attention as you too, scanned the room. "Uh what are you—" "Just checking for someone, hey, you... have you tried to get help yet? I mean the whole stalker ordeal."

Her voice was barely above a whisper but you somehow managed to hear her clearly, your eyes widened at her words. "Well... I.." You groaned, clearly frustrated.

"I tried to get the police on it but they said I didn't have any evidence and therefore couldn't file a report or something, I'm not used to dealing with these kinds of things so maybe I'm doing something wrong.."

Elisa attentively listened to your words, humming as you spoke. "I see.. what about we exchange contact, I'll help you!" Elisa grinned, your eyes widened from shock, was she really willing to help you out?

"Wait—really? Are you sure?" Still a bit shocked you narrow your eyes at her, you didn't want her caught up in your mess. "Mhm, positive. Besides, my father's the Chief!" Elisa really was an angel.

You grab out your phone before switching the phone with Elisa to exchange contact. As you typed in your number Elisa spoke up, "You haven't unlocked your phone yet." Looking up you see your phone in your face with just the lock screen on. "Oh, sorry!"

Grabbing your phone you unlocked your phone before passing it back to Elisa, you were done with your number so you set her phone down on the table, waiting for her to be done. As Elisa punched her number she couldn't help but remember your lock screen.

Speaking of phones, you really ought to buy a phone or something sooner or later to contact them in case something happens.. and vice versa.

Finally, Elisa was done as she gave your phone back before taking hers. "Your lock screen," She began, you pouted in confusion. "My.. lock screen?" Elisa nods, "who are they? They're quite handsome.." You perk up as she mentions them.

You begin to explain how they were your "friends" and when you took that picture.

"I remember the day I took this, I think this was.. a couple of days ago? I wanted to try out that "finger heart" trend on TikTok with all of them! Of course, normally it's just with two but since I wanted to include them all I just concluded for me to do the heart with him,"

You point at Al-haitham, a soft fond smile spreads across your lips remembering how he begrudgingly agreed to make a finger heart with you.

"And the rest would just make a heart with their hands!" You chirped, putting your phone back in your pocket. Elisa nods her head, a faint yet noticeable blush tinting her cheeks. "I see..."

Elisa sits there across from you, contemplating something all the while you begin to hum a soft tone and sip your drink. You both stayed silent (not that you minded), doing your own thing. Elisa occasionally glanced up at you, watching your every move and your face.

If, in the end, she helps you get that stalker in jail and lock him up.. would you help her hook her up with one of them? Just the thought itself makes her feel all giddy.

After an hour you decide to pack up your things and clock off, you were more than happy with the fact that your new friend, Elisa, would help you catch your stalker but you couldn't get your hopes up too high just yet.

You waved goodbye to Elisa and the owner before opening the door, the wind chimes tinkling with the wind. "Hey—Wait up!" Turning around you could see Elisa running towards you, her tote bag hanging on her shoulder as she rushed towards you.

"How about I walk you home? You must not feel safe nowadays.." She stated, scanning your face in the hopes of finding her answer quickly. "I guess so, thank you once again." A faint smile appears on your lips before turning around and holding the door open for her.

The walk back home was peaceful, you felt quite safe around Elisa. Besides, no person who would want to attack someone would do it out in broad daylight.. especially not when they had another person with them.

You made little talk during the walk back, opting to stay a bit quieter as you noticed how Elisa seemed to really be thinking hard. Maybe she was planning to catch the man? Either way, you shouldn't disturb her.

Finally, you reach your home, walking up to the front door you fumble for the keys in your bag. After finding it you slid it into the keyhole before turning it followed by the sound of a "click!".

You were finally home.

Turning around you waved goodbye to Elisa with a smile. "See you soon!" Elisa waved back and eye your home, so this is where you lived. It was a modest and simple.

Stepping into your home you closed the door behind you and locked it before placing your bag down and hurriedly kicking off your shoes, "I'm home!" You yelled out, taking off your jacket and placing it over a chair.

The sounds of people scurrying could be heard, and that's when you spotted Aether speed walking towards you, the others surrounding him running after him (more like you) was a funny sight and before you knew it Aether was embracing you lovingly in his arms.

"I missed you so much Y/N!" Aether blurts out, his cheek pressed against yours. "We, We missed you too Y/N" Diluc clears his throat, clearly not liking how Aether was hogging you all up.

As a bicker between the boys ensues with the attempt of Scaramouche trying to pry Aether and Heizou off of you, a small snicker escapes your lips. The scene itself was hilarious but this was what you really needed after a long day.

Scara, Heizou and Aether stopped fighting and turned to face you along with the rest of the men, some of the others were in your bedroom (they knew you were here but stayed in your room knowing you'd come in and greet them sooner or later).

"I missed you guys too." A small smile breaks outs as you pat Aether's head. With no delay, they began to fight once again, why? Apparently, you had given Childe the look that Itto saw.

Despite all the ruckus they caused (not that you're complaining but sometimes it gets out of hand, but you have the help of the others!), you still loved them regardless and enjoyed their presence.

The weekend soon came over (thank the Lord) and you could finally relax. Currently you were sitting on the floor with your back pressed up against the couch, Kaeya laid on your lap, his head resting on your thighs and boy was he in heaven.

It was as if your thighs and his head were meant to be... the perfect combo. Baizhu sat next to you, sipping on a juice box (he had grown quite fond of them) while watching the TV.

Wriothesley was sitting by your other side, chatting with Cyno, Venti and Kazuha. Yes, it was an odd sight to see them all interacting when they were all different from one another but it was cute at the same time, they were all talking about their experiences back in Teyvat.

(Cough cough Y/N please come back to Teyvat cough cough)

All the while Thoma along with Ayato were making lunch in the kitchen, it was always either Thoma, Aether or Ayato cooking but it wasn't like you were complaining.

Not only that but you were dead set on learning to bake with them, so now you had something to be looking forward to next week where you would begin your baking lessons.

As you sit there watching the TV with the men and stuffing your mouth with chips you suddenly feel a buzz next to your leg. Looking down you notice your phone screen lighting up from a text sent to you by... Elisa?

You picked up your phone and began to type back.

El: Y/N! you on? i got some really good news!

Y/N: i'm on! and really? you gotta tell me asap

You see the small chat bubble of Elisa typing, you felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach as you watch her type until she sends her message.

El: we caught the guy :) long story short when i went back home i talked to my father about it and just by a chance he said that there were multiple other reports of people reporting a strange man following them and other coincidences and all...

El: my father began to search for the man on his own and guess what! he saw the same exact described man just walking around the park looking super suspicious.. i mean how stupid can a man be!! 😭

A grin spreads on your cheeks as you let out a sigh of relief, thank God... you were expecting this case to be dragged on for a bit as you've seen from the movies but ultimately it wasn't and for the better too!

After sending a message back to her, you couldn't stop yourself from profusely thanking her and her help to which she said it was no problem.

It felt as if a large boulder was lifted from your shoulders as your shoulders dropped. "Oh finally.." You muttered to yourself, closing your phone shut and placing it back down.

"Everything alright?" Kaeya questioned as he stared at your phone and back at you. "You seem quite happy." Looking down at Kaeya you smiled and nodded your head.

"Mhm, I'm really happy right now, it's nothing much don't worry." Kaeya doesn't respond but rather turns around before wrapping his arms around your waist, snuggling his face in your stomach.

You were used to his affection, this was nothing compared to the other things he does. Sigh.

This whole ordeal didn't feel real, you were thankful it was over, yes, but it felt so.. quick. You were feeling uneasy and on edge for weeks but then in a day it just ends?

It didn't feel real, but it was, and you were more than happy. As you were thinking about everything you were dragged out of your thoughts by Cyno's voice.

"Hey Y/N! Want to hear some new jokes I made up just right now?" Cyno's eyes glisten with anticipation as he watches you. "Hmmm, sure why not?" The smile on your face didn't waver as you noticed how giddy Cyno looked, adorable.

Before you knew it you were laughing and tearing up how stupid yet funny Cyno's jokes were, the jokes themselves weren't so.. funny but the way he delivered them sure did something to you.

Cyno stared at you in awe as you clutched your stomach from laughter, wiping away your tears. "W—wait say t-that again! Say it again!" You cried, unable to hold back your laughter.

"Say no more!"

And in the end, you were literally sprawled out on the floor, trying your best to catch a breath. After a couple of minutes you spot Diluc right above you, Diluc crouched down and eyed you.

"Time to get up now, it's not the best to stay down on the dirty floor." You groaned at his words and closed your eyes, you felt fine and it was quite relaxing anyway.

Despite your protests to stay down and relax Diluc repositioned himself and scooped you up like it was nothing in bridal style. Not that you were complaining though.

"How come redhead can carry Y/N but we don't?" Heizou whispered to Aether. "I don't know.. because you don't... try?" "True that.. wait redhead?"

Next thing you know you were resting on Diluc's thighs (a coincidence for Kaeya to be on your thighs and now you're on Diluc's..) and staring at the men (Cyno, Itto, Wriothesley.. managed to pull him in somehow, and Thoma) below you play UNO.

"Hmmm.." You softly hummed to yourself, trying to brainstorm some ideas on what to do tomorrow as it was still the weekend, maybe shopping? No, too boring. Maybe a park...?

A park seemed like a good idea, there was a lot of space and the one you were thinking of going to wasn't too crowded and barely any people went there unless to walk their dogs.

While in your thought you felt Diluc tap your shoulder. "Thinking of something?" He asked, eyes meeting yours. You sigh and turn so that your back is on his thighs. "Yeah, what do you think of going out somewhere tomorrow? Just a park, you know."

"A park, you say?" Diluc repeated as he gave it some thought, it didn't sound too bad, besides, they've been in your house for wayyyy too long.

So why not?

"Of course, I'm sure the rest would be relieved to finally go outside and play around." Diluc held a smile as his eyes waved to the men beside him and around the living room. "I hope it goes well" You mumbled.

"I'm sure it will."

note: ?!?!!? YAY i finally finished it after a month I AM SO SORRY FOR HOLDING IT OFF FOR SO SO LONG

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