#only to have the scene just... not feel good

[egcdeath]

something old, something new

pairing: patrick zweig x f!reader

summary: when your childhood best friend asks you to get married, how are you supposed to say no?

word count: 7.2k

warnings: MATURE (mentions of sex but no explicit sex scenes), marriage of convenience, fluff, mentions of alcohol, patrick is a bad friend (but he improves), friends to spouses to lovers, fake dating, yearning and pining, everyone is bad at communicating, many feelings are being repressed, mentions of dieting in an athlete way, one singular creepy old man, no use of y/n

author’s note: i cannot get this tennis man out of my head!! i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

It wasn’t every day that you could count on hearing anything from your childhood best friend, but it seemed like whenever you did hear from Patrick Zweig, it was always an ask for something more shocking than the previous one. 

As kids, you spent many evenings doing the homework that Patrick didn’t want to do, despite the fact that you didn’t really want to do more homework either. At boarding school, you’d somehow become his personal designated driver, answering his calls no matter what time and groggily picking him up from whatever party he’d found himself at. In your adulthood, you found yourself becoming a go-to stand-in for him at events he didn’t feel like attending. The amount of times that you’d shaken hands at charity galas and introduced yourself as Patrick’s girlfriend, despite not having a single romantic encounter with him, was frankly astounding. 

It seemed like whenever Patrick needed something, you were the first person he reached out to. After his parents, of course. 

You dreaded knowing the reason behind the simple hey, text message you’d just received, but you were sure that you’d find the reason out sooner rather than later–and that whatever the reason was could not have been good. 

Like clockwork, only an hour after you’d received his message, Patrick appeared at the doorway of your apartment. He came to you equipped with his secret weapon, the kicked puppy look that he often used on you before he asked you for a ridiculous favor, like breaking up with his girlfriend for him or telling his mom that he still wasn’t joining the board of the family business. 

You sighed as you took his less-than-stellar appearance in. Downtrodden expression, wrinkled and sweat-stained shirt, as if he’d gone to the gym to sweat out his feelings before coming to you, and eyes so red-rimmed, you wondered if he’d been crying. 

If you had to guess, he’d either been arguing with his parents, who knew exactly how to get under his skin, or his tennis friends, who also knew exactly how to get under his skin, or his latest girlfriend, who probably confronted him about his own wrongdoings. Regardless of who had upset him, he had obviously come to you to lick his wounds. 

Like always, Patrick stalked inside without asking you for any further permission. The two of you had done this song and dance more times than either one of you would like to admit. 

“How are you?” he asked, stopping in your kitchen to steal an apple from your decorative bowl of fruit.

“I’m good,” you said with hesitation, eyeing him once more. He really looked like shit. If he hadn’t looked so sad, you would’ve told him exactly how much shit he looked like.  

“Aren’t you gonna ask me how I am?” he questioned, a little pathetically.

“No,” you walked off to your living room, fully expecting him to follow you. You were unsurprised when he did exactly that. “Let’s just get right to it. Why’d you come over here?” you asked as the two of you sat down on your couch. 

“My parents are cutting me off,” he explained, voice breaking as he spoke.

Surely, this couldn’t all be over an empty threat. They seemed to threaten Patrick with this every few days. In fact, you’d been in the room with him when his parents promised that he’d never see another dime from them–more than once. Every time, it ended with them coming to their senses and throwing more cash at him. 

“That’s what, the twentieth time?” you laughed. “They always threaten to cut you off. What’s different this time?”

“This time, they mean it.”

You laughed even harder in his face. If you had a quarter for every time you’d had this conversation, you’d be richer than the two of your families combined. 

“I’m serious,” he inched closer to you. “They’re tired of funding my ‘tennis habit’. They want me to get serious about life. To join the board and start a family. My dad showed me an edited draft of his will and everything”

“So?” you prompted, trying to figure out where you fell into the equation. Hopefully he wouldn’t try to put you up to something absurd, like seducing his father into convincing him to not threaten Patrick’s inheritance.

“So, tennis is the only thing I care about.”

“Okay…” you trailed off. “What would you like me to do about that?”

“I need you to help show my parents that I have a vision for the future.”

“Again, Patrick, what exactly are you asking me to do?”

“Marry me.”

You weren’t sure what you expected him to say, but it certainly was not that. Your mouth instantly dropped open and you were sure that you were gaping like a fish. Maybe if he had asked you ten years ago, you’d have instantly said yes, but you’d let that naive dream die after you’d come to realize the transactional subtext of your friendship.

“What?”

“I want you to marry me. I was thinking… you remember when we were younger and we made that pact, that if we weren’t married by the time we were adults, then we’d get hitched?”

You continued to stare at him, completely dumbfounded and not believing a single word coming from his mouth. “I… I…” you couldn’t even form the words. “We were kids!”

He gave you a halfhearted shrug, as if that didn’t matter at all, and as if he didn’t just ask you to be legally and romantically bound to him forever.

“You are fucking unbelievable! You haven't talked to me for anything other than asking me a favor in years, I barely know you’re alive apart from the random drunk texts you send me, and now you want me to marry you? Do you even hear yourself?”

You scoffed and stared at him in disbelief. “And that has to be the worst proposal in all of human history. First you tell me that tennis is the only thing you care about and then ask me to marry you? You’re a joke.”

He let you finish your rant, but after a beat he finally asked. “…Is that a no?”

———-

Stranger things had happened to you than marrying your childhood best friend just a month after he’d randomly popped back up in your life. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you walked down the aisle on a beautiful beach off of the Amalfi Coast.

The last few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind, with what felt like every second of your time consumed by making guest lists and invitations, booking hotel rooms, and finding a dress that you liked enough to get married in. Obviously, you knew this was more of an elaborate scheme than a celebration of love, but you wanted it to be nice anyway. For all you knew, you may never get married again.

You don’t know what possessed you to say yes to Patrick. Maybe the small, desperate part of you that had been begging him to truly see you since you were old enough to realize he didn’t, or maybe the desire to finally have that fairytale destination wedding you’d been dreaming about from the time you learned what a wedding was. Regardless of the reason, both of your families were overjoyed by the union. In one fell swoop, you’d been able to satisfy both of your parents’ desires for you to settle down, and you’d done it with someone both pairs approved of. 

You had to give props to Patrick, the ceremony was beautiful. Given the short timeline, the two of you decided to divide and conquer the planning of the event. You were sure that he’d outsourced the work, since he was still in the middle of his tennis season, but whoever he hired did an excellent job at giving you the wedding you’d always wanted. 

Despite the very short timeline everyone had been given, you were able to wrangle all of your close family and friends to Italy to watch you elope. Your parents had insisted on inviting second cousins and shareholders to your wedding, but you’d somehow convinced them that you and Patrick wanted a smaller, more intimate ceremony. It was probably better to have less people there, lest someone notices the artificial nature of your union. 

Part of you felt like you’d pulled off the greatest prank of all time as the two of you stood up in front of your small crowd, gazing as lovingly as you could manage into each others’ eyes while the officiant said his spiel, but the other, more logical part of you filled with dread as the reality of the situation began to set in. Patrick seemed to have a way of always dragging you into a shitty situation, and you hoped for both of your sakes, that that wouldn’t be the case for your marriage.

After what felt like a lifetime, Patrick began to recite his vows, claiming to have loved you since you were children, and promising to continue to love you ‘till death did you part. If you had been marrying literally anyone else, your knees would go weak with swooning. 

Unfortunately, you were cursed with the knowledge of the reality of your situation, one where your vows sounded more like: “We only have to stay married until I retire, which should be sooner rather than later. We don’t have to do anything together: no galas, no family dinners, no family vacations. Hell, you don’t even have to come to my games. And we don’t have to be exclusive either. This is basically just a title, so feel free to see anyone you want to. I can already see the worry in your face. Stop that. We can hire someone to make us prenups, so the divorce will be an easy, clean split of our assets. See? It’s not that bad.”

The dichotomy between the words he’d said to you a month ago and the bullshit he was spewing now almost made you laugh, but that was clearly not the reaction you were meant to be having when the love of your life was publicly declaring their feelings for you. 

Once he finished declaring his romantic, empty words, you began to read off your vows. They fell in a similar vein to his, a proclamation of a lifetime-spanning love that didn’t really exist in the first place. But when you glanced up at him from your slip of paper, he was really selling it. He stared at you like he adored you, like he wanted to study every inch of your face after running off with you into the sunset.

The ridiculousness of it all finally hit you like a freight train, and you managed to pivot the laugh that was creeping up into your throat into a weepy sounding crack of your voice. Surely people cried during their own weddings. 

You finished off your vows, doing your best to pretend like this whole ordeal wasn’t the most ridiculous scheme you’d ever been dragged into. You imagined a world where he was less selfish and you were less selfless, one where you were exchanging these vows with sincerity, and it helped you to get through the words that you knew were almost completely meaningless. 

The two of you then took turns placing the ring on each others’ fingers, with Patrick giving you a ring with the largest diamond you’d ever seen, and you giving him a band that had been passed throughout your family. He’d agreed to give you the heirloom back once you divorced, so you couldn’t complain too much about giving it away in the first place.

The announcement of being able to kiss the bride rang out in your ears, yet you still found yourself surprised when Patrick eagerly wrapped his arms around you and kissed you passionately. Cheers erupted around the two of you, and you pulled away as the officiant declared you Mr. and Mrs. Zweig.

You had successfully tricked your audience, and yet, you still had the strangest feeling. 

Your reception felt far more natural than your wedding ceremony. After a change of outfit, a huge bowl of pasta, and a few flutes of champagne, you were feeling substantially better about the arguably poor decision you’d just made. You chatted up your friends, who jumped at the opportunity to comment on how cute of a couple you two were, did some light matchmaking between single guests, and placated both of your parents with manufactured acts of affection. You even managed to get Patrick out on the dance floor, after he swore to you that he didn’t dance. 

By the time the two of you were stumbling back into your villa, the woes of the day had practically been forgotten. When you were having this much fun, who cared about a massive, potentially life altering decision? 

You immediately made a beeline to the bathroom, anxious to get into your comfortable pajamas and to wash your face after a long day of wearing tight, extravagant dresses and a heavy layer of makeup.  

“So what did you think of your big day, Mrs. Zweig?” Patrick called out from the other side of the bathroom door, where you were sure he was also preparing for bed. “Was it everything you wanted and more?”

“I think this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” you paused as you thought about something before confessing, “but it was everything I wanted and more.”

“Yes!” he celebrated from where you couldn’t see him, though you could perfectly envision the goofy look on his face. “I owe it to you after everything I’ve put you through. I just hope you weren’t too let down by the groom.”

“What?” you drew out before blowing a raspberry. “Of course not. You looked very handsome today,” you complimented in between splashes of your face. 

“You looked pretty beautiful, yourself,” he complimented you right back. 

“Aww, thank you, honey,” you emphasized the pet name. 

“Hmm, I don’t know if I like that,” you heard the squeak of the bed from behind the door as you assumed that he’d sat down.

“Hey, you’re the one who made me marry you,” you pointed out. “Am I more than you bargained for?”

“Of course not, babe,” he emphasized his own pet name, which sent you into a fit of laughter. “It’s just so weird to hear you refer to me as anything other than an asshole.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re still an asshole,” you replied as you walked out of the bathroom, donning an old shirt with the logo of your boarding school and an equally old pair of shorts. “Just a married asshole.”

You took in the sight of your now-husband as you made your way to your side of the bed, surprised to find that you quite liked the sense of domestic bliss you were feeling. The bed dipped as you sat down and glanced back at Patrick with the slightest bit of hesitation. 

“Is this weird for you? I can go to the spare room, if you want me to,” he offered, surely in reference to the two of you sleeping in the same bed. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him, setting a steady hand on his knee. “What kind of couple would we be if we didn’t spend our wedding night together?” you teased. 

“The kind of couple that marries for convenience?” he suggested.

“Hey, who’s to say that this isn’t love? I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids. Maybe some of it lingered, or some shit.”

“Oh yeah?” he looked at you with that sleazy smirk that you both loved and hated. “What happened?”

“Hmm… I think I realized that you’re a dick,” you matched his smirk with a challenging one of your own.

“Huh. Did you have this realization before or after you started seeing Dan Thompson?” he questioned.

You were surprised by the mention of your first boyfriend, particularly because you weren’t sure that Patrick remembered any detail about your personal life, let alone your love life. “I realized it after you started treating me like your workhorse.”

“Oh okay, so you had a crush on me while you were with your boyfriend. Good to know.”

“Shut up,” you groaned and turned away from him as you finally full laid down. 

“Would it make you feel better to know that I also had a crush on you?” you heard the bed sheets rustle as he scooted closer to you, and you turned back to face him. 

“You’re lying.” You couldn’t see any world where that would make sense to you. In your youth, it seemed like Patrick was always off somewhere with a new person, and none of those people were you. Not that you had an issue with it, but the thought that the two of you might’ve had crushes on each other at the same time without either of you pursuing each other felt kind of weird. 

“Nope. You’re the first person I ever jerked off to,” he said as casually as if he were telling you what he ate for breakfast, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Ew, you’re so gross,” you gently pushed him, but your hands lingered where they sat on his chest. “Was that supposed to be romantic or something?”

“That’s not romantic to you?” he asked with all the sincerity of someone who was fully committing to a bit. 

The two of you broke out into laughter. Once you finally caught your breath, you began once more. “This is gonna be a long marriage.”

“Hopefully,” he remarked in response. 

“If you keep talking to me like that, I will literally go get our marriage annulled, like right now.”

“Please don’t,” he whined, grabbing one of your hands from his chest and kissing your fingers. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Every time you promise to make something up to me, an inconsistent fairy gains its wings.”

“Hey,” his tone suddenly became very serious, completely catching you off guard. “I really am sorry that I’ve been a terrible friend. I don’t know that I’ve ever said it, but I am. You deserve so much better than me, and I don’t even know how I convinced you to do this for me.”

You almost started to laugh, unable to take the absurd situation seriously. You’d been waiting years to hear him genuinely apologize, and now hours after you’d married solely as a favor to him, he was finally telling you what you wanted to hear. 

“Please. I’m serious. I know you think I’m a piece of shit flaky ashhole, and I am, but I want to be a better husband to you than I ever was as a friend.”

You felt your heart stop beating for a second. The word husband sounded so foreign in his mouth. You couldn’t quite pin how you felt about it, but you knew you felt uncomfortable with the intimacy of his words. 

“Patrick, please shut up,” you squeezed your eyes shut, suddenly a little overwhelmed with the Patrick of it all. In fact, you couldn’t think of anything more encapsulating of your experience with him than the whiplash you got from that moment. He could be a complete asshat, but his occasional moments of earnestness kept you following him like a lost puppy, accepting his apologies and granting him ridiculous favors, despite your better judgment. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, moving closer to you to get a good look at you. You swore you felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. 

“I’m fine, I just-“ am overwhelmed by you being sweet? Can’t believe that I’m hearing you say this to me after so long? Also can’t believe that you and I are married?

None of the right words seemed to come to you, so you did the second best thing you could think of. 

You pecked his lips and pulled away as if you’d just touched a hot handle. You didn’t know what had come over you, and immediately began to apologize profusely. 

“Oh my god, I don’t know-“ you were cut off by his hands on your face, greedily and sloppily pulling you back in for another kiss, this one far more passionate and confident than the first. 

Your kiss was messy but fervent, years of pent up sexual frustration and non-sexual frustration behind your every movement. As you kissed, you moved to straddle him, feeling a little ridiculous in your ratty old clothes, but that didn’t stop him from groping you over your pajamas like you were the hottest thing on the planet. 

Maybe the strangest thing to happen to you that day wasn’t even your wedding.

——

That night was the first in a series of very strange events. You couldn’t even fully wrap your head around what was happening in your marriage. You just knew that the two of you had become closer friends than you’d ever been before, and that you slept together when either of you had the urge. It was basically a no strings attached situation, except, legally, all strings were attached. 

If you were confused by your arrangement, you were sure that your friends were even more lost, something they proved to you as they interrogated you over brunch. 

“So, just so we’re clear, you married him as a favor?!” your friend asked in complete disbelief. 

“Well… yeah, basically.”

“Shit. Can I ask you for a favor of a million dollars?” she joked, leading to the laughter of your other friends at the table.

“Well, that’s different. At least with our marriage, we both benefit. He gets his parents off his ass about being so focused on tennis that he doesn’t have any future prospects, and I get my parents to stop trying to marry me off to every single rich boy they find.”

“But you’re not like, actually married. Like you guys don’t have feelings for each other?” another friend questioned.

You sipped your mimosa before explaining your situation for what must’ve been the fifth time that day, “we’re basically friends with benefits.”

“But you’re legally married? Like, the wedding was official and stuff?”

“Legally? Yeah. But it’s literally just that,” you clarified. 

“Legal marriage and sex?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, hoping that they were finally catching on. 

“Then… are you guys seeing other people?”

“Oh yeah, what ever happened to that one model guy you were seeing?” another one of your friends pitched in. 

“It didn’t really work out,” you addressed that with an understatement. He rightfully flipped his shit when he found out you were going to be marrying someone else. “But neither of us are seeing other people. I don’t think either of us want to risk bringing anything back to one another.”

“That sounds pretty committed to me.”

“Not really,” you dismissed.

“Then why are you even together?”

“How many times do I have to explain how we both benefit from this?”

“No, not legally, or socially or whatever. Why are you hooking up with him? Aren’t you scared you’ll mess up your friendship or something?”

“Well, the sex is really, really good. But I’m really not worried. There's no romance between us. We’ve been friends for so long that it’s just… weird to look at him like anything other than my friend. It’s basically a loveless marriage of convenience.”

Your friend shot you a skeptical look. You just shrugged her off. 

———

The moment you found out your afternoon meeting had been canceled, you reached out to your assistant to make arrangements for you to go to Patrick’s tennis game. He’d been on a winning streak, and though he insisted that you didn’t need to come to his games, you knew that he secretly liked having you there. 

Over the past few months of your marriage, you’d grown to realize that he often didn’t say what he actually meant. Like the time he told you that he preferred to live alone, before breathily confessing in your ear that he slept better by your side. Or when he swore to you that he loved the pancakes you’d served him, despite the food being some of the worst you’d ever put in our mouth and him being on a diet. You almost found it sweet that he tried to prioritize your feelings over his own, which was surely a result of overcompensation from the way he had treated you for the majority of your lives. 

You arrived at his match just in time to watch him take a break, making your way into the stands and finding a seat where you’d have the best view of your friend as possible. You didn’t expect him to scan the audience and find you until much later on, but you were pleasantly surprised when the two of you made eye contact and he absolutely lit up. You waved, then gave him a thumbs up in hopes to communicate your support from far away. 

While you couldn’t always make it, you liked to play the role of supportive tennis wife. Getting dressed up and making an appearance not only publicly legitimized your sham of a marriage, but helped you to reconnect with some of your former boarding school classmates, who were often in the stands supporting a friend or a loved one. You also just liked to watch him play, as witnessing the passion and ferocity he had out on the court was extremely entertaining, and even at times, mildly arousing.  

With their break ending, Patrick went back out on the court and played just as well as you expected him to, crushing his competition, and looking up into the stands at you to celebrate once he’d scored the winning point. 

At first, it was surprising how proud his wins made you feel of him, a feeling that you explained to yourself by arguing that if he wasn’t giving his absolute all to tennis, then your marriage had basically been all for nothing. Although that did still ring slightly true, the truth was that you were simply proud of Patrick. Whether you liked it or not, the two of you were a unit now, which meant that his wins were your wins and vice versa. In some ways, it was kind of nice to be part of a team. Or at least his team.

You met Patrick down on the court, where he paused from packing his bag to immediately greet you with a kiss to the forehead, a small act of intimacy that was typically reserved for situations far different from the one you were currently in. 

“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming!” he exclaimed, pulling you in for a half-hug. 

“I didn’t know I was coming either,” you instinctually wrapped your arm around him in response to his half-hug. “Great job out there. You kinda demolished him!”

“I did, didn’t I,” he said just loud enough for you to hear, still wanting to appear like a good sport. “I have to go get ready for the press conference. Do you want to meet me at my hotel?”

“Of course. You don’t mind me staying for the night?” you probed, despite knowing the answer. He wouldn’t have asked you to go to his hotel in the first place if he’d minded.

“You know I never mind you staying for the night,” he gave you a cheeky wink.

“You’re so sleazy,” you commented with fake disgust.

“You started it,” he replied, reluctantly pulling away from you and reaching into his bag to grab his hotel keycard. “I’ll text you when I’m heading back.” 

The moment you received a message about him being on his way to the hotel, you made a very lengthy phone call and request to the restaurant in the building. Technically, he shouldn’t be eating any of what you ordered, on account of him being on a strict diet plan, but you figured that he deserved it after playing the way that he did. Besides, Patrick liked thoughtful acts of service, and you figured that this would count as one.

“You know me so well,” he practically gasped as he stepped into the room, taking in the platters of food you’d laid out for him.

“What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t?” you teased, though your sentiment was somewhat accurate, and it was clear that the two of you had grown to know each other far better over the past few months, you hoped that your friend wasn’t interpreting your words in too serious of a way. 

The two of you laid out on the pristine hotel bed, eating the feast that you’d ordered without much dialogue between you, other than a comment on how good something was, or a request to pass an item to one another. It felt oddly domestic, and oddly enough, you liked it. Maybe you liked it even more than you’d been willing to admit.

“I’m gonna go shower,” he announced after tossing his napkin onto a cleared off plate.

“Want some company?” you offered, raising your brows at him in a playfully suggestive manner.

“Is that what this is all about?” he feigned offense. 

“Maybe,” you trailed off. “Or maybe I just wanted to celebrate the greatest tennis player of all time,” you purred.

“Come on. You and I both know that is far from the truth.”

“Well you’re the greatest player in my heart,” you praised, much to his chagrin.

“Ugh. Shut up and come shower with me.” 

As you sleepily ran your fingers through his damp hair, you were surprised when he broke his silence with a comment seemingly out of the blue. It was more of a mumble than anything else, but you’d grown accustomed to his muffled words over the course of your marriage. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he randomly complimented you.

“You know you don’t have to compliment me to get into my pants, right?” you asked with a hint of laughter in your tone.

“I’m not trying to,” he pecked your arm–the limb he had the easiest access to at the moment–as if he was trying to emphasize his point, though all it did was bring heat to your cheeks at the reminder of the way he’d pressed slow and meaningful kisses along your calves and inner thighs while the two of you were in the shower. “You just looked so good today, I couldn’t not comment.”

“I don’t look good every day?” you asked facetiously, trying to deflect from the warm and fuzzy feeling his compliments and affection were making you feel. 

“Of course you always look good,” he reassured you rather than playing along with your game of joking instead of addressing your feelings. “I just don’t tell you that enough.”

You weren’t even sure how you could respond to that. Clearly, he wasn’t in the mood to mince words tonight, but you couldn’t bear to match his genuinity with cheap jokes. The only real, genuine thought to pop into your head were three ridiculous words that you immediately batted away. You couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing than randomly declaring your love to a husband who wasn’t really your husband in a marriage that wasn’t really a marriage. 

Out of ideas, you hit the lamp on your side of the bed. “I appreciate it. Goodnight.”

“Night,” he parroted back to you, remaining snug against your chest, despite the fact that your hands had stopped threading through his hair. 

Deep down, you knew that those three words had been on the tip of Patrick’s tongue, too.    

——

Being in the social circles of filthily rich people meant you often found yourself at random charity events, hosted by the nonprofits of families and business owners looking for a particularly large tax break for the year. Over the years, you’d felt that you’d seen and participated in it all: marathons raising awareness for a serious, but extremely rare disease, date auctions to raise money for a cause that certainly didn’t justify you having to go on a date with a man almost forty years your senior, or galas for nearly-extinct sea creatures that were essentially used as an excuse to stand around and network while drinking expensive alcohol and eating hor d'oeuvres.

You seemed to find yourself at a lot of events like the latter, including the one you were standing at now. The gala, which took place in the art exhibit it was raising money for, was a rather standard one, filled with the typical suspects who regularly attended those events. 

It was slightly ironic to be at the event with Patrick as your plus one, as this was the exact type of event he would’ve texted you about an hour before it began to ask if you would play his concerned partner for the night who told everyone a flimsy excuse about him being under the weather. 

It also served as somewhat of a reminder to you of the massive growth that your friend had undergone since the two of you became legally bound to one another. It finally felt like Patrick saw you as a true friend, instead of a reliable person who would do his dirty work. It finally felt like he cared. In some ways, your marriage was the best thing to happen to your friendship. 

Patrick returned to where you were standing, this time with two flutes of champagne and a delicious looking appetizer in his hand. 

“You’re too kind,” you said as he passed you your drink. 

“Anything for my wife,” he mockingly bowed in front of you and you chuckled and shook your head. Over the past year, the two of you slowly became slightly more comfortable with referencing each other as husband and wife, but only really as a joke. You guessed that in a lot of ways, that’s what your marriage was—a ridiculous inside joke.  

He was just about to feed you a hor d'oeuvre when you were approached by a wildly unwelcome figure: the man who had purchased a date with you a few years ago. Despite your one very awkward, stilted date, he never really seemed to get over you–which he made a point to prove at every event you both happened to be at. And unfortunately for you, his generous donations landed him on the guest list for the majority of these events. 

You were used to fighting him off on your own, as he seemed to come and flirt with you regardless of how inappropriate it was for the setting of the event, or even when he already had a beautiful young bombshell hanging on his arm. At this point, you’d learned to just tune his every word out and flee as soon as you possibly could. He was annoying, but he wasn’t dangerous.  

“Hey, honey,” he greeted you way too comfortably. You’d given up on asking him to call you by your name a very long time ago. 

“Hi, John,” you reached out to shake his hand and cringed internally when he kissed the back of your hand. 

“Oh honey, who is this?” Patrick immediately lept in, surprising you with his unsubtle passive aggressive tone and ridiculous use of a pet name. 

“You don’t remember me? I swear, we’ve met a few times.” John asked, trying to smile despite clearly being agitated by the presence of competition.

“Some people are more forgettable than others,” he said with a shrug. “How do you know my wife?” He emphasized the word and you pushed down the small inkling of pride you were feeling. Whether it was from watching Patrick try to scare this annoying man away from you, or being so proudly referred to as his wife, you couldn’t be sure.  

“Finally settling down, eh?” he directed at you, then directed his next statement to Patrick. “We went on a date back in the day.”

“It was for that one date auction thing,” you quickly added context, but paused when you took in John’s less than pleased look. He was a large donor at your own family’s nonprofit, and you were sure that your parents wouldn’t be too pleased with you if they found out he pulled out over you hurting his feelings. “We had a lot of fun, though.”

“We definitely did,” he chuckled and smirked. You wanted to punch him in the mouth. “We should definitely do it again sometime.”

It was clear that Patrick was not taking kindly to seeing you be flirted with so brazenly in front of him. Part of you wondered why he would be possessive, since part of your initial deal was that you could see whoever you wanted, even if that happened to be a creepy old man with a lot of money. The other part of you was enjoying seeing him so fired up. Particularly, seeing him fired up over you. 

“Our schedule is just so busy. Between work and us trying to start a family, I just don’t know when we’ll have time to see you again.”

Trying to start a family? That was definitely news to you. Although, the idea didn’t sound awful. Wasn’t it everyone’s dream to start a family with their closest, most dear friend? 

“Well, she knows where to find me, right, honey?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, looking into your glass like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Now if you don’t mind, my wife and I are going to go check out the exhibit,” Patrick announced, grabbing your hand and taking a step away from John. 

“You two have fun,” he said before clapping Patrick’s shoulder and leaning in to begin a stage whisper. “Make sure you treat her right and cherish her. If you don’t, I might have to swoop in and do so myself.”

He winked at you and you bit back a gag. 

“Don't you worry your wrinkly little head. Nobody lov- cherishes her more than I do,” he theatrically patted his back much like he’d initially done to him. “See you around.”

Did he almost say what you think he almost said? Surely you misheard him, or he was just playing up your relationship to scare away that creepy man. It really wasn’t anything to think twice about. 

Once the two of you had walked away far enough to be out of earshot, you finally addressed what had just happened. “Thank you, bodyguard. You don’t even know how much I despise that man.”

“He seems like he’s the worst,” he agreed with you, looking back over his shoulder. 

“That’s because he is,” you emphasized. “This is so random, but did you mean what you said earlier?”

Patrick suddenly paused, his face going pale like he’d just seen a ghost. You were a little confused by this reaction, as he’d said nothing to warrant that level of fear. 

“Do you actually want to start a family? Obviously not now, while you’re still playing tennis, but maybe eventually? I know we don’t have the most traditional marriage, but, I don’t know. Neither of us are getting any younger, and it might be fun to co-parent with my best friend,” you were clearly rambling now, but luckily, Patrick came in to rescue you for the second time that night. He looked far less aghast now. 

“I would love that,” he said to you with a genuine smile. You matched his with one of your own. 

———

“Do you have any big plans for retirement?” a reporter asked for the final question of the press conference. 

“Mostly just eating a lot of burgers. And maybe learning how to play pickleball,” Patrick responded, never one to give a serious answer to questions that weren’t explicitly about tennis. 

It was a ridiculous note to end on, but it felt right. You’d found that to be the case with most things in your life that pertained to him–most notably your marriage, which ended up being far more than you ever expected it to be.

After the press conference had come to a close, Patrick met you outside by the car, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, then leaning down to peck your baby bump. 

“How does it feel to be retired?” you asked, ruffling his hair while he was still bending down.

“It feels like you might divorce me,” he joked. Obviously your marriage deal was only meant to cover the time that he was still playing tennis, but after years of a complicated marriage that suddenly became significantly less complicated once you finally confronted the fact that the two of you very obviously loved each other, it seemed unlikely that your union would end any time soon. 

You glanced down at your baby bump, then back up to him skeptically.  “I hope you’re not being serious.”

“Come on, I never know with you. You’re the one who friendzoned me the entire first year of our marriage!” he exclaimed.

“That was a lifetime ago,” you countered before taking his hands in yours. “If you’re really worried, I have zero intentions of ending our marriage.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” he grinned, stepping away from you. “Let’s get going. I don’t want us to miss our reservation.”

You nodded and obliged, passing him the keys before heading to the passenger side of the car.

Once you sat down, you were overcome with the urge to say something. You had spent so much time bottling up and pressing down your own feelings, that it was now hard to resist letting things out when they came to you. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you blurted. “And I love you. So much.”

Patrick smiled at you genuinely, before his look turned into a slightly more devious one. “I love you so much, too. One might even say I love you more.” 

“Don’t even start with that,” you laughed, not in the mood to have the kind of back and forth with him that you had at least once a week. Considering that you were carrying his child, you were pretty sure that you were the winner of the love competition.  

“Fine. We love each other equally,” he conceded.

“That’s more like it.”

You tried to think back to one specific moment where your marriage had crossed over from being one of convenience, into a union with genuine feelings attached, and realized that you weren’t exactly sure. It could’ve been the first night you spent together, when you’d finally allowed yourself to consider what your relationship might look like beyond a simple friendship, or maybe it was even earlier than that, when you gazed into Patrick’s eyes as you read off your vows. The look of pure adoration he gave you was one that you had grown familiar with throughout the course of your marriage, but you hadn’t realized at the time just how genuine he had been. Or maybe even the moment Patrick asked you in the living room of your apartment, when you’d been the first person he thought of to carry out his ridiculous scheme, and you’d said yes despite every logical part of your brain that screamed at you to say no. 

Whenever it began didn’t particularly matter. What mattered now was that the two of you fully intended to spend the rest of your lives together. 

#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig fic #patrick zweig imagine #art donaldson x reader #challengers #challengers fanfic #challengers fic #josh o'connor x reader

[crystalflygeo]

Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Omega!Dragoness!Reader

cw/tags: Your usual mentions of slavery and sexual themes, A/B/O dynamics and heat mentions. Also allusions to depression and mentions of death.

notes: Aahahaha this took forever..... allow me top explain: first of all my new job is killing me and second of all I'm going through a hard period where I don't really like anything I write anymore. This work in particularly I kept struggling with the pacing, the dialogues, the way I wanted feelings to come across or scenes to flow it's just hhhnnnggg. I told a couple of friends that I set the bar so high with the first part I feel like nothing else I write will be that good. Then the second part was "ok" but cut off in a cliffhanger and has been there for SO LONG that now I feel this will be underwhelming after all the buildup//hit

I hope it's not. I hope it's good.

Anyway this part is in Zhongli's pov and contains flashbacks which will be fully in italics! Enjoy! and thanks for caring so much about this story ;w; ILU all <3

<- Part 2.

Your instincts mess up with your head.

Your crying and anxiety have simmered to a cold numbness.

Hours blur together, time loses meaning.

The doctor comes by sometimes. The maids bring you food. But everything feels… off, distant.

This doesn’t feel… like your usual heats.

You curl up and sob, a choked soft noise.

You don’t feel hot, but rather cold. Limbs weak. Dizzy.

Your heart aches.

You’re so tired.

And so sleepy…

Zhongli puts down the seal stamp and deflates back into his chair with a sigh, he must have read the same line at least five times already. He cannot concentrate at all. It’s not even been three days and each hour, each minute, feels eternal.

He’s already gotten so used to your presence, so smitten with you and your little quirks, your rare smiles, the way your ears and tail flicker, your pretty eyes…

And he remembers those same eyes begging for him, teary. Your pitiful cry. Your distressed scent.

Guilt eats at him. As well as something else…

He’s been restless, barely slept. Your scent is a siren’s song on the blankets, tart and fresh and tantalizing, but you are not with him. Anxious energy flows in his veins. This emotion, this thing that is like regret and sorrow and fear all tangled together, cleaves him through. His instincts are screaming at him, rattling inside a cage of his own making. His mate, his precious Omega is in heat, you’re scared and lonely and need him. Zhongli has to suppress a growl and feel the shudder of his scales at the fact that he’s not with you. In your nest. Taking care of you.

It’s agonizing.

"How is she?"

The same question, over and over, at any chance he gets.

"She refuses to eat, your majesty." Xiao tells him, and he can feel the concern in the younger Alpha’s voice. “According to the maids she only took a few bites of the ajilenak nuts, the rest of the food was left untouched.”

…

"She's um... she's always sleeping when I go check up on her." Ganyu explains a little crestfallen. She too is worried. “A-at least I think she’s in no pain… she was clinging to one of your hanfus.”

…

"You should go see her, Zhongli." Ping states, a rare serious expression on her usual gentle factions. “Baizhu says she’s going through the worst case of separation sickness he’s ever seen. Is that really what you want your poor Yin to go through?”

He lets out a frustrated rumble.

“Of course not. But it’s for the best, I don’t want to… take advantage of her, or force her to anything.” Zhongli frowns, trying to focus on the papers in front of him again, in an attempt to ignore her piercing gaze.

“Is it really any of that if she wants her mate?” Ping retorts. “She was begging you.”

I know.

He growls this time, and shakes his head at his memory of you. It haunts him.

“She doesn’t know what she wants.”

“So, you’re deciding for her then? Is that it? Honestly, are you listening to yourse-”

“She’s been conditioned to serve.” He cuts her off, voice grave and somber. “Trained to be submissive and please. She likes me simply because I’m kind to her, she wants me because she thinks it’s her obligation as my mate. I feel the pull of the bond too, the need, the yearning. But I also know she is afraid of Alphas and she thinks… she thinks she has to obey me. That she owes me something or that own her.” His eyes narrow. “I didn’t need to bond her. I shouldn’t have bonded her. I just… wanted her to be free and instead I chained her to me. And now she’s in heat…”

And it drives him insane.

“Listen to me, we’ve both spent time with her, enough to know she’s opening up and learning to voice her feelings…” Ping reasons gently. “It’s a slow process, don’t hurt her this way. At the very least… go see her.”

“I lost control once with just one kiss from her. I will not do it again. I will not harm her any further.”

The elderly woman keeps silent for a few moments. Zhongli sighs and rests his forehead in his palm in defeat.

And then Ganyu approaches, a little tense, a stack of papers in her hands.

“Your majesty, the Qixing are starting to arrive, council meeting will begin soon.”

“Very well. Thank you Ganyu.” He stands up and nods at her, then turns to Ping and his demeanor softens a little. “You know I just want to correct my mistakes, and give her the life she deserves. At least a fraction of it, of happiness.”

It wasn’t supposed to go this way… Zhongli sighed as he walked up to the room where the “reunion” with the sumerian would take place. It was long overdue seeing as he had spent the night by your side, refusing to leave after you had cried and begged so desperately…

After he had bonded you.

He had initially taken the eremite’s claims with a grain of salt, but naturally he had to make sure. The last dragonblood had supposedly died decades ago, so how…?

And yet when he saw you for the first time in that room, he knew.

You were real, you were beautiful. Suddenly he felt a million things at once: He wanted to get to know you, stay close to you, protect you. Old draconic instinct vibrating excitedly on his soul. You smelled vaguely familiar, your tail was gorgeous, your ears adorable. What if you didn’t like him though? What if he harmed you? Scared you? Suddenly he was nervous, nervous of ruining this, nervous in a way he hadn’t been in so long, like when he’d been young and Liyue had been at war and he had lost everything to fire and smoke and dust and he had to make difficult decisions and-

He had always calculated his moves. No room for risks. Too much at stake.

But you, you disarmed him. Completely.

You, with your polite gentleness despite the obvious cracks beneath the surface.

You, with your beautiful looks and enormous potential, even if you didn’t see it yourself.

You, with that look of yearning and hope, with your soft lips and sweet moans, with your warm body fitting perfectly against his.

For once, he allowed himself to make a decision with his heart, not logic, not politics. Just instincts.

And he claimed you…

…

He enters the room. A couple Millelith soldiers stationed by the door, Xiao standing by his side loyally as he sits at his place of honor as the emperor. Your ‘master’, an Alpha eremite named Zaheer, kneels respectfully a little below.

“I see you liked her, your majesty” He offers a sly smirk. “Did she satisfy you properly? She’s been trained on her gag reflexes to-”

Zhongli -Morax- resists the urge to growl. “We are not here to discuss that.”

“Ah, of course, business!”

Business.

“Since she’s such an exotic and well-trained slave I suppose we could agree on…”

“Do you think of me an idiot, Zaheer?” Morax’s eyes narrow.

“P-Pardon me?”

“She is a pureblood xi��nshòu. I want to know exactly how she ended up being enslaved by you and your people.”

Cold and calculating golden eyes stare down at the eremite.

“W-What… she’s desert-born!” Zaheer retorts back angrily “She was born at a heat house. Maybe she has traits from your people because one of them decided to get a cheap fuck while traveling.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Morax asks unfazed “Liyue has records of the last of her kind disappearing and presumably being murdered when a village near Sumeru borders was razed to the ground. Do you have a disclosure?”

Zaheer stands up and growls, clearly an Alpha not used to having to bow his head and accept things not going his way.

Clearly an Alpha used to intimidating and attacking others.

Xiao wields his spear and changes his stance to an offensive one. The Millelith guards also tense.

Zaheer gets even more irritated, feeling like a caged animal. Backed into a corner. “Emperor or not” He starts through gritted teeth. “If you’re not going to pay me then I’ll take my merchandise back and do business elsewhere where I’m not being accused of ridiculous claims.”

“You’re right that I won’t be doing any business with you, but we’ll see how ridiculous those claims truly are. Zaheer, by my word as the emperor you will now remain detained in Liyue.” Morax sentences.

The eremite’s red eyes widen in shock and rage and the desert-dweller shoots up to attack Morax, getting easily overpowered and neutralized by Xiao’s quick moves. In seconds his weapon drops to the floor as the Yaksha general points his spear at the unconscious man. The Millelith quickly retrieve him and the blade before Morax simply nods at them.

Months. It had been months since then and he had to begrudgingly release the man as no accusation connected him to anything. They were essentially out of leads. There did appear to be documentation of your birth at a desert village but Zhongli would be hard pressed to believe the half-assed story you’ve been told…

And since you are pureblood, then both of your parents, and most importantly your dam, was also a dragonblood. That’s at the very least one Liyue citizen enslaved in a foreign nation.

He would get to the bottom of this.

For now, however, he had to cast those worries aside.

The Seven members of the council sit around the large table, the Liyue Qixing, leaders of all the commerce and trade sectors of the nation.

Zhongli takes his place at the head of the table. Ganyu does so as well by the sideline.

“Very well, what’s our first topic today?”

“Did Master just… leave?”

There was silence at the table, Zhongli and Ping sit frozen and you get just a bit nervous.

It’d been a few days since you started your new life, and though Zhongli was sure you were warming up to it he knew you still had a long way to go. It was probably still a little surreal for you… such a big change from everything you knew.

The tension on his shoulders quickly drops again. He continues eating. “Yes.” He says simply. Ping follows his lead, saying nothing.

The faster you forget about that eremite, the better.

“Hm…” You continue eating as well. Your expression is a little conflicted…

You inhale.

“Was he… happy… that I finally found a mate?”

Zhongli turns to you sharply and tenses again like a cat bristling. He holds back his tongue so as to not say something he’d regret. Why do you still care about that despicable man’s opinion? Why do you still seek his approval? Did you really think he cared about you? Zhongli desperately wants to make you understand how that slave-owner only saw you as an object, how he fed you lies, how his mistreatment is inexcusable…

But he can only imagine how deep your scars run, and how that toxic mindset has settled and accompanied you for years. He cannot judge you for caring about someone who doesn’t deserve it.

“Why do you ask, dear?” Ping asks instead.

“I don’t know…” You mumble, poking at the congee with your spoon. “I always wanted to make him proud.”

Proud.

Him?

“I think what matters most is how you feel.” Zhongli says, his hand reaching out for yours invitingly and you place your fingers on his palm, getting a soft reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to rely on how others view you or think about you.”

You seem thoughtful for a second, your ears flickering back insecure but then standing up alert again. “I am happy” You admit. “Very happy. I have the best mate in the world.” You smile brightly.

Zhongli’s heart does a flip.

“With the excessive rains in the northern villages, there have been many floods and a lot of crops have been severely damaged or lost. Our previous contingency plan is in action already and donations are being sent to help the affected families. However, we must prepare for a decline in the harvest of certain grains and vegetables this season, as well as an increase in prices for a few months due to the shift in demand and supply.” Keqing explains expertly, the young alpha’s expression is serious and solemn.

“It’s an opportunity to strengthen commerce with Mondstadt and Sumeru.” Ningguang chimes in, leaning back on her chair, arms crossed. “The value of jade and other crystals is on the rise as well.”

“Not to mention, we’ll be employing several architects from the Akademiya to help with the rebuilding.” Keqing adds, turning to Ganyu, who nods.

“Greater lord Rukkhadevata and lesser Lord Kusanali have agreed on a certain exchange program with Liyue. I started drafting up some proposals already if you’d like to see.” The blue-haired secretary passes along some documents.

Ningguang’s eyes skim along the page. “It’s almost like our new Sumeru-born empress was a sign.” She smirks. “By the way, where is she?” She turns to Zhongli, curious about her fellow Omega.

“She’s rather indisposed at the moment.” The emperor replies dryly, not wanting to delve much onto the touchy subject. “Ganyu this looks good, however we need to think about-”

There is a knock that quickly surprises everyone. Who could interrupt a council meeting and why?

Baizhu peeks in with Changsheng curled around his neck, a frown on his usually gentle features. “Your majesty, a word. It’s an emergency.”

All the members at the table stare silently as Zhongli stands and follows the doctor.

Ganyu has a bad feeling…

“We have no time, follow me.” The green-haired doctor walks briskly along the wooden corridors, he looks… frustrated, dejected.

“What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t want to panic. He never panics. But something inside him does. It’s obvious that this has to do with you. 

“I apologize, your majesty. I thought it was just a case of separation sickness but… the empress is showing signs of widow’s wasting.”

Zhongli stops.

His heart skips a beat. His skin prickles with dread.

“She’s… dying?”

Baizhu shakes his head. “It hasn’t reached that point yet, but… she’s deteriorating.”

The guilt is back. The fear.

“Given what happened, I’m pretty certain the shock of your rejection was the trigger. Still, it is highly unusual for a Yin to suffer from widow’s wasting without their partner actually dying, even more so for it to settle so quickly. Her reaction is akin to someone who had never left their mate’s side for years.” Baizhu explains.

You trusted him.

And he turned his back on you.

What have I done?

“In any casssse, it’ssss not too late.” Changsheng’s little voice pipes in. Baizhu keeps leading the way and Zhongli follows, though he obviously knows the entire palace like the palm of his hand, at the moment his thoughts are scattered and far far away.

“She needs her mate’s reassurance. I have done what I can with medicine but this is a bonded pair matter.” Finally, he stops at a juncture and turns to Zhongli. “Please, your majesty, only you can save her. I will tell Ganyu, Xiao and Ping of the situation, and if you need anything, just ask.”

Zhongli nods, mute.

The snake narrows her eyes. “Don’t leave her sssside.”

“Changsheng.” Baizhu shushes.

She is right to chastise him. He deserves that and more.

“I won’t.” Zhongli nods and heads down the hall.

Widow’s wasting.

The words echo in his head. He’s seen the damage it can do. How a broken bond, the loss of the most important person, can destroy someone inside. Did you really care that much about him? Did he really hurt you that badly?

“Please…”

He didn’t mean to.

“I have the best mate in the world.”

He feels like a monster.

“I want to stay with you. Sleep together. Like mates.”

He needs to see you. He needs to make sure you’re ok…

He stands in front of the nest room. The same one where he first met you.

Opening the doors only slightly to slip inside, Zhongli's eyes widen and a hand flies to cover his nose and mouth when a strong smell shakes him to his very core.

The room he expected to be completely saturated with intense heat pheromones… instead bears the acrid scent of despair.

This isn’t the lustful call to breed and have children that made an omega vulnerable and pliant. No. It is a desperate cry from a heartbroken omega for their mate to come back, to stay with them, to love and protect them. It is grief.

You are suffering because of him.

To think all this time… he was afraid he'd make you uncomfortable. That he’d scare you, hurt you, ruin the bond you’ve carefully built. Instead, he is overcome by an all-consuming terror. Every part of him screaming at his mate's weak essence.

And there you are, his precious treasure, his sweet dragoness.

You lay curling in on yourself letting out small muffled sobs.

“Y/n…” 

No reaction.

“Darling, my dear dragoness…” He rushes up to you immediately, grabs your hand and pets your hair. You look so weak, your skin is feverish, how has it only been three days? It feels like a lifetime…

You shift a little and your eyes blink open, staring at him dazed, red and puffy and your expression defeated. You let out a pitiful whine and more of that bitter sad scent is released. 

“No my dear, don’t cry, I’m here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Zhongli coos as he curls up to you, frantically starting to scent and nip at your neck and shoulders affectionately. His horns manifest and his tail follows through, lashing about a little restless. The bond… feels wrong, broken. He should be able to intimately feel you this close and yet…

He tries to reposition you a little so you can lie on top of him, rest on his chest. It’s concerning how easily he can do so, you’re like a ragdoll in his arms, unresponsive and unmoving. His hands cup your face, thumbs rubbing at the traces of tears in your cheeks. You let out a frustrated whimper. “Shhhh shh it’s okay. I’m so sorry.”

Even if he says it a million times, it won’t feel enough.

Zhongli nuzzles at your neck and proceeds to do something he hasn’t done since he was practically a teen. He purrs. It’s a little rusty, comes off more as a grumbling but it seems to work as he feels you relax just slightly in his arms.

“I’m right here” Zhongli’s deep voice assures you, tugging you closer, mouthing at the soft skin along your collarbone. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m all yours, I promise, I promise. I won’t leave you alone, not ever.” He soothes.

He lowers a bit of your clothes at the shoulder and grazes his fangs along your faded mark, you tense and let out a long shaky breath.

“Everything will be ok.” He kisses the spot. “I’m sorry.”

And then he sinks his fangs in to reestablish the claim.

You cry out in pain and squirm, clawing at his clothes, but he holds you, his hand rubbing circles at your back, his tail intertwining with yours.

...

.....

...

At first nothing changes, but after a few moments… a low strained purr bubbles up from within you again.

#genshin x you #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin impact x you #genchin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #crys writes #fem reader #LohK #minors dni #just in case #me: it gets worse #also me: //reader is dying and it's zhongli's fault woops #we have his pov now about the first meeting #a bit of his feelings!! #see I really hope I did a decent job showing his thoughts/side bc I don't want him to come off as “suddenly Zl is being stubborn/a jerk” fo #he has valid concerns about the relationship and yes he had good intentions #shoutout to Baizhu best doctor and changsheng for having zero chill #Ping voice of reason #despair and grief are such hardcore words I love how hard they go here

[erodasfishtacos]

Somethin’ Unholy (sexclubowner!hxengaged!yn)

prompt: YN and Arthur have to adjust their arrangement. The first scene leaves YN hopeless and wondering if she should even come back to the club.

word count: 9.7k+

warnings: emotional infidelity (kinda, it’s complicated), d/s dynamics, mean Harry

author’s note: next part is posted on patreon & continuing to be updated this week💕 this is the last part that will be posted on tumblr.

to get access to the rest of this trope as well as 350+ other exclusive writings - you can join for $3USD! -> HERE <-

PART ONEk

+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•

YN isn’t above this.

Actually, this is exactly where she wants to be.

Her arms are akin to jello as she slowly starts to move across the floor, the hardwood was rough on her knees, and she had to complain.

YN sits back on her heels, eyes sparkling and challenging, she was going to make Harry prove himself as a good dominant.

Harry raises an eyebrow, questioning but unmoving from where he stands.

“Hurts my knees, sir,” YN tells him, the ‘sir’ was patronizing and not obedient in the way it was intended to be used when he demanded it from her.

“The funny thing is…” Harry tilts his head, eyes tracing over every inch of her, “I didn’t fucking ask if it hurt. Crawl to me now.”

YN huffs, putting her palms flat again and moving towards him.

“Slower. Move slower. I really want you to feel that ache you were bitching about in your knees,” Harry tells her, his voice was so calm and monotone that it was making her want to get him mad.

YN does as he says but to the extreme, going so entirely slow that she’s barely moving any bit forward.

Her face is towards the floor and suddenly, there is a pair of leather boots in her line of vision, standing in front of her.

A hand weaves into her hair, twirling the strands between slender fingers, and pulling upwards without mercy.

YN lets out a high-pitched squeak at the pain prickling on her scalp, forcing her neck to tilt upwards to look at Harry who’s now squatting in front of her.

“Is that too rough?” Arthur echos from behind her.

YN shouldn’t feel annoyance, this is a learning experience for both of them but she wants him to just sit there quietly.

The way Harry looks up towards Arthur was downright terrifying.

A sharp, mean smile spreads wide enough on Harry’s face that his dimples pop in both of his cheeks, and then he tugs her hair until her head is turned a an uncomfortable angle, looking towards her fiancé.

“S’it too rough for the lil’ angel?” Harry asks in a mocking tone, his grip hasn’t relented and YN had missed this type of pain so much she could cry.

“N-no, it’s good,” YN manages to get out between clenched teeth before focusing her eyes back on Harry.

She didn’t want to remember that Arthur was here.

“It’s good, sir,” Harry lets his blunt fingernails tease at her scalp, “You’re being so awful already. It’s making it hard for me to want to play with you.”

If YN wasn’t in a headspace like this, she could logically identify that he was saying this to get under her skin, making her insecure.

But because her rational thinking isn’t as present as it normally is, it makes her chest ache, and her voice sounds small when she says, “I’ll be good, sir.”

Harry’s laugh is loud enough that she jumps, his hand loosens and unweaves from her hair as she blinks up at him.

He was ethereal under the dim light, all of his sharp features were defined, like they were from renaissance times, and he’d be unreal but YN was witnessing him with her own eyes.

“Did that spark a nerve, pet?” He teases as he stands up, leaving her on hands and knees.

YN only folds her lips inward, refusing to give him an answer because she wanted to get the biggest reaction possibly out of him.

When he realizes that she’s not going to reply, he runs his tongue over his teeth, “Right now, I wish you were really my sub. This would end so fuckin’ poorly for such a defiant slut.”

“Whoa, I don’t know if you should call her that,” Arthur interrupts with an affronted tone, like he’s trying to stand up for YN.

YN feels the irritation of his interrupting itching at the back of her teeth, she wanted him to just sit there and stop.

YN doesn’t realize that she lets out a spoiled noise of impatience, of annoyance at her fiancé.

It causes Harry to take a step forward, lightly pressing the bottom sole of his shoe on her splayed fingers, warning.

“This is a learning experience,” Harry scolds her, pressing down just enough to add pressure on her knuckles, “ He’s allowed to ask questions and voice limits. If you have an issue with that, there is no purpose to this session. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” YN replies quietly because she did not want this session to end.

It had only just begun and she felt such a spark that had never been there before.

This was visceral, different than any experience that she had had with Klein before they broke up.

The atmosphere, the way that Harry held himself with such knowledge and confidence was unmatched.

“Good girl,” Harry murmurs lowly, almost as if he didn’t want Arthur to hear, and he moves his boot away from her fingers.

The praise felt fucking addictive.

She wanted more of it.

But at the same time, she wanted to create mayhem too.

“Is that a limit for you? Yellow?” Harry asks Arthur, checking in like a responsible dom would do during a lesson.

YN hated that it took his attention away from her.

“Er, not necessarily. I’m…this is all just new. I didn’t know whether she liked being called that or not is all,” Arthur trails off unsurely but he doesn’t sound like he’s distressed, he definitely is a mixture of curiosity and arousal.

He liked this.

“Arthur,” Harry replies in a conversational tone, he nudges his foot against YN to signal her to stand up, “You will learn that it doesn’t matter what YN likes because she likes to be disobedient and insubordinate. It only matters if she uses her colors. If she doesn’t like something enough to stop, she will either use ‘yellow’ or ‘red’.”

YN stands, feeling awkward in how overdressed she is as Harry provides education to her fiance, this was such a weird situation, and she wanted Arthur to stop bringing her out of her floaty headspace.

“Right, slut?” Harry smirks wickedly, he stands with his hands behind his back, and pointedly not trying to touch her in any way.

She could tell that in this weird dynamic, Harry was trying to be respectful that he was instructing and not taking ownership of her as her dominant, despite her body screaming at him that that is exactly what she wants from him.

“Yes,” YN agrees, purposely leaving out the ‘sir’.

The smile drops from his face, he had thought he’d broken her, and it wasn’t that easy by just some hair-pulling and name-calling, it would take so much more, and he would learn her threshold for pain tolerances is high.

Harry’s lips press into a firm line and he steps forward, grip firm on her wrist as he jerks her forward, making her stumble into his chest, and he whispers into her ear, “God, if you were mine you would be broken.”

It was only loud enough for YN to hear.

But he takes a step back, letting go of her wrist, and an odd emotion she can’t read crosses his face before he announces to them both, “This is an instructional session as I’ve stated before. That was an example of power play but now I will move onto the next portion of learning.”

And something has switched, YN doesn’t know how to put her finger on it but Harry had suddenly become more formal with her.

More of a teacher, less of a dominant like how he was acting in the beginning.

She wanted the latter to come back out, a hollowness started in her chest when he walked away from her to sit down on a tufted leather bench, and a completely uninterested expression on his face.

“Strip down to your bra and underwear,” Harry replies in almost a robotic tone, none of the teasing and lift was there anymore.

YN is shaky as she rids herself off her trousers, the structured corset bodysuit she had put on, and she was down to her strapless bra and seamless thong.

YN wasn’t self-conscious, she loved her body and was proud to show it off but there was something about Harry’s demeanor that made an inkling of self-doubt creep in as she stood in the middle of the room where he had left him.

When she subconsciously goes to wrap her arm around her chest, as if to give herself any type of modesty, Harry clicks his tongue at her and shakes her head.

Without having to speak, YN puts her arm back down at her side and takes a deep breath, shaky on the exhale.

“Ask to come lay on my lap,” Harry tells her calmly, his legs spread enough to be obscene, a hand resting suggestively on his inner thigh, much too close to his groin to be appropriate in any other setting.

“May I come sit on your lap, sir,” YN repeats as steadily as possible, she wanted to be good, and she wanted to earn his interest back.

Harry is surprised by her compliance, definitely not expecting her to follow his instructions without a fight.

“Come here, now,” His voice is tighter, lip between his teeth as he watches her carefully.

“Ho-how, sir?” YN swallows because she doesn’t want to get scolded again.

“How do you walk? That's a silly question, are you a dumb pup?” Harry asks as if she just asked the most outlandish question ever, “Walk with your two feet unless that’s too much brainpower for you, pet.”

“YN,” Arthur speaks from behind her, still sitting but YN’s back is turned to him.

She knows she should look, this is a lesson for them, to learn how to do this, to model the play, to communicate better.

She knows they’re here as a couple and Harry is simply an instructor.

But she doesn't want to turn to look at him.

YN keeps her eyes on Harry, in an almost pleading to have him help, to speak to Arthur for her because her fiance kept dragging her out of the fuzzy headspace she was desperately trying to sink into.

Harry doesn’t let anything show if he’s annoyed by Arthur.

He probably isn’t because this is a lesson for him, he isn’t really playing.

YN was and that was the issue.

“Yea-yeah?” YN manages to reply after blinking a few times, almost like snapping out of a trance, and she turns to make eye contact with her partner.

Arthur was visibly flushed, his hand was strategically placed over his lap to hide what YN is guessing is evidence that this situation is turning him on, even though he doesn’t need to hide that because that’s mostly the point of all this.

“Is…Um, color? I just didn’t know you liked being talked to that way or…ordered around like that…” Arthur still doesn’t sound upset or necessarily bothered by the revelation, just maybe a bit surprised.

“Green. I like it,” YN nods because she wants to snap at him, tell him that she’s been trying to communicate that she likes this for ages and he hasn’t caught on whatsoever, but she doesn’t want to ruin the scene so she simplifies it down to that.

“Ask him his color,” Harry reminds her from behind, “You need to check in with him too.”

I don’t want to check-in with him.

“What’s your color?” YN tries to keep interests in her tone but these interactions with Arthur are taking any semblance of an actual scene out of her mind which she knows that wasn’t the goal but she had made it her own at some point when this started.

“Green. You look amazing right now and I -,” Arthur smiles so sweetly at her, genuine and honest.

It makes her feel guilty.

YN was pretty sure in this moment that Arthur would never have the ability to be mean to her in the way she needs, in the way that Harry can provide, and that leaves her with a sinking feeling.

“Get your ass over here now,” Harry cuts Arthur off mid-sentence, irritation finally settling in on his features.

YN walks as gracefully as she can over to him, standing between his spread legs, and he reaches out to run his fingertips over the curve of her hip.

It’s surprisingly gentle until he pinches her, enough to sting, and says, “Kneel.”

YN obliges, her knees were already going to be bruised from the hardfloor beneath her but by this point, she was welcoming the aches that were going to last for days after, to remind her of Harry.

“Let’s keep simple today, shall we?” Harry asks her as he runs his open palm across her collarbone, getting closer to her chest.

Right now, she’s blatantly aware that they haven’t done anything inherently sexual which she be lying if she said that it’s not clawing at the pits of arousal in her stomach.

YN doesn’t know if she’s ever been as attracted to someone sexually as she was with Harry.

She knew these instructional sessions weren’t for his pleasure but fuck, she wishes that she got to see him in action - real, in scene action, not this only sliver of what he actually has to offer.

YN nods in response to him, trying to be on her best behavior because her disobedience really hadn’t made him more prone to play with her further than teaching.

“Open,” Harry commands as he withdraws his fingers, thumb now moving to tug on her bottom lip sharply as she complies. As soon as it was, he pressed down on her tongue, with enough pressure that she had to swallow harshly not to gag.

Harry laughs as he watches her, never taking his eyes off of her, “You can’t even handle my thumb but you want to have the attitude of a girl who can take me all the way down their throat.”

YN can’t speak, can’t tell him that she can and she can show him.

Instead, her brattiness that she’d been trying to tamper down flares right back up as she sinks her teeth into the skin of his hand in a clear way to convey she didn’t like what he had just said.

It takes Harry by surprise, his features twitching just the slightest before he’s steadying them again, and pushes down further on her tongue until she actually does gag. Before he’s pulling his spit-soaked thumb out and dragging it across her cheek, surely smearing the meticulously applied foundation and bronzer.

There’s a conflict, YN can tell Harry is debating on what his next course of action is and he seems to be arguing with himself internally before he’s gripping her jaw and making their eyes meet.

“Cut the brat shit. I’m not your dom, this is a lesson. Stop getting so far into it. Save it for your fiance,” Harry’s voice is cold, mean but not in a teasing way, almost a dismissive way and it doesn’t feel like they’re playing anymore.

It seems like he’s actually scolding her even though she sure he probably just thinks he’s giving her a reminder so that there’s no hard feelings between her and Arthur after this but it felt like a knife in her chest.

YN feels any of the feistiness leave her body, it would probably be a responsible time to use her colors, and let him know that she’s bordering on ‘yellow’ because she realizes she’s misinterpreting this whole scene.

He was never going to get into the full headspace with her.

Of course, he wasn’t.

This was fully for teaching.

And YN was trying to fall into her subspace that she would with her actual dom.

But the text messages, in particular, made her confused.

Why would he have goaded her over text like that?

“Let’s get this over with,” Harry presses his tongue to his cheek, looking frustrated as he signals for YN to stand right back up.

“Alright, I’m going to demonstrate how to properly spank. We’ll do five, alright?” Harry tells her as he reaches for her wrist, tugging her until he can position her over his lap, face-down.

But you said fifteen in the text.

Harry is now talking to Arthur directly as he lands the smacks, informing him on the proper amount of pressure, placement, repetition, and timing that all make a difference to how the scene goes.

YN can’t even focus on the words, her fingertips gripping at the leather bench in front of her, and the hits weren’t hard, they barely stung but she felt disappointment at this whole experience sink into her bones.

After the five, Harry pulls her into a sitting position next to him before standing up.

“No comment then? Want to be a brat the whole time but when you actually get a spanking, you’re dead silent?” Harry questions, hands on his hips, and he just overall seemed…unhappy.

“I wouldn’t call that a spanking,” YN scoffs in annoyance but it no longer had any playfulness in it, “Is this scene done? I’m ready to go.”

Arthur is oblivious to the intense tension between the two, standing up and straightening out his trousers, wiping the legs off, and smiling widely, “That was pretty awesome. I liked it more than I thought.”

YN embarrassingly enough feels like crying.

“Arthur,” Harry’s eyes haven’t left YN’s, “Can you leave YN and I for a second? To discuss before you head out.”

“Absolutely, I’ll be at the bar,” Arthur agrees easily, trusting as he excuses himself from the room with a kiss to YN’s cheek.

YN moves to pick up her clothes, bunching them in her arms, and refusing to acknowledge Harry’s existence as she lays them out of the bench to try to organize them in order to put them back on.

“Look at me.”

YN refuses, shaking her head, and clutching her shirt in her fist.

She felt embarrassed, let down, disappointed.

YN doesn’t hear Harry move but jumps when his hand snakes around her waist, physically turning her around to face him, and god, why the fuck are there tears streaming down her face right now?

“Why are you crying?” Harry asks bluntly, his hand leaves her hip and that makes the tears fall harder.

She’s crying over a fucking stranger who sent her a few flirty messages.

“It doesn’t matter,” YN tries to keep her gaze on her feet but the finger under her chin doesn’t allow it.

“It does matter,” Harry argues, exasperation through each word.

“I…It just wasn’t what I expected,” YN replies honestly because Harry can see straight through her lies anyways, “I’m just disappointed but that’s on me for my expectations, it’s not your nor Arthur’s fault.”

“What were your expectations?” Harry seems hesitant to ask like they both know that the honest answer isn’t appropriate for YN being in a relationship, engaged to be married type of commitment.

YN squeezes her eyes shut, the words are stuck in her throat until his hand comes back to her hip, very cautiously rubbing a circle on her hip, “I…I know you made it very clear that this was instructional. It’s not your fault for my expectations. I just….wanted….I just wanted a scene with you. A real scene.”

“You should want that with your fiance,” Harry sighs as watches her, voice low, “You should want to do a scene with him, not me.”

“I get that you don’t want that with me, that’s okay-”

“I didn’t fucking say that, did I?” Harry cuts her off, a defensiveness that she hadn’t heard before in his tone, his thumb pressing in a bit harder to her hip, pressing against the bone and purposefully.

“It seemed like there were a few moments in the scene where you were into it but then…you went back to…” YN trails off because she doesn’t know the best way to put it into words.

“I went back to teaching because I shouldn’t have let myself get like that in the first place,” Harry bites out, his lip twitching as it furls downward, “It was unprofessional. This was strictly educational.”

“Do you often get lost for a moment in the scene when you’re doing instruction?” YN asks timidly, unsure of whether she wants to know the answer and if she’s trying to make this more special than it was to him.

“Never has happened before,” Harry tells her, his gaze unfaltering, “I’ve never struggled not to fall into an instructional scene before tonight.”

“This isn’t in my head,” YN swallows, feeling a bit braver in what she believes, “There is…a compatibility between the two of this. In this setting.”

“Be that as it may, it doesn’t matter,” Harry’s words are tight, strained, “You are in a relationship, working on these issues between the two of you. So that Arthur can provide you with what you want.”

“Tell me honestly, sir,” YN lets the name roll off her tongue thickly, smiling to herself when his hand squeezes at her again, pressing and pressing into her skin, “Do you think that Arthur will be able to tame me? You can’t even do it.”

Finally, that familiar wicked smile spread over his tense features, his eyes twinkling under the dim light.

Because just like her, he loves a challenge.

“I could break you, over and over,” Harry steps further into her space, she was suddenly very aware of how undressed she was in comparison to him, “Make you into the sweetest little sub that I would never get sick of using.”

“That-that doesn’t answer my question,” YN’s breath was picking up, he could tell, and he moves to cup the side of her neck, thumb laying over her pulse point.

“The question of whether Arthur will be able to learn how to handle you? In the way you need?” Harry clarifies as his eyes dart down to watch the way his fingertips dimple the skin underneath them.

YN nods.

“You and I both know the answer to that,” Harry scoffs with a shake of his head, the smiling fading a bit, “No, I do not think your fiance will be able to give you what you need. He doesn’t seem like the type to suddenly be able to dom.”

YN wants to kiss him, drop her kneels in front of him, beg him for anything he’s willing to give her.

And yet, she’s engaged.

The ring had never felt good on her finger but right now, it felt like a fucking trapped life sentence.

Harry moves to take a step back which has YN reaching out to grip her wrist, “Please.”

He lets her hold him but sighs, “We probably shouldn’t do another lesson together. I don’t think that I can do another scene with you acting like such a fuckin’….a brat and try to keep it as a learning experience. I can set you two up with another instructor-”

“Why didn’t you set us up with a different instructor in the first place?” YN throws the question at him, “Raven said you didn’t play here anymore or teach. But you-”

“You know why,” Harry cuts her off, not willing to lay it out any clearer for her, “You know why and I can admit it was a bad idea. I should have thought it through and I shouldn’t have offered myself.”

“It’s because you want me,” YN lets a smile creep onto her face, arrogance filtering throug her veins and she takes his hand, bringing it to her hip once again, “You wanted to play with me. You wanted a chance-”

“And I shouldn’t have given into it,” Harry won’t let her finish a sentence, “I know from your paperwork that you aren’t in an open relationship. You need to go the fuck out there to your fiance and forget about this.”

YN doesn’t like that answer.

Of course she doesn’t.

But he’s absolutely right.

What she was doing was borderline cheating, by just engaging in their conversations that she wouldn’t have had if Arthur was in the room with them.

YN had never once thought about cheating on Arthur or any of her partner’s in the past.

She judged people who cheated on their signficant others.

And now all she can think about is how much she wants Harry.

She was royally fucked and she knows it.

“Fine,” YN bites back, her guard completely up and she turns her back to him.

She can sense his hesitation before he’s cursing under his breathe and slamming the door on his way out.

++

They don’t talk about the lesson.

Not on the way home, not before bed, not the next day.

Arthur doesn’t try to initiate any type of power play when they have sex that night when they get home from playing.

YN doesn’t see a world where they’re going to go back to The Body Factory because the lack of interest from Arthur about domming was blatantly obvious in his actions following their arrival home.

YN notices Arthur being much more distant after that night, just for the following few days as he was much more quiet, reserved than he normally was, and overall seemed lost in his thoughts.

She starts to worry that this all was just such a poor idea, for both of them.

“What is going on?” YN finally asks one night while they sit at the dinner table, across from each other in silence leading up to this, “You’ve barely spoken to me all week. If it’s about what happened on Saturday night, just say it.”

Arthur puts down his fork and knife, wiping his mouth with his napkine before sighing, “I’m sorry, sweetie pie. There’s just been…a lot on my mind and a lot to process after this weekend.”

“You could have just talked to me about it. I thought we were supposed to have positive communication about all of this while we figured it out,” YN lets her fork clatter loudly, showing her irritation but to be fair, she was much more on edge later than normal.

“You’re right,” Arthur agrees, his expression is soft and apologetic like it always was, never wanting to argue, “I…I needed to figure some things out for myself and kind of…process. I worry that I’m going to upset you with what I want to talk about and I guess I was just trying to find the right time.”

YN braces herself for what she knows is coming, they’re not going back to that club, she’ll never see Harry again.

“Just say it, Arthur,” YN sighs, rubbing a hand over her eyes and she knows her shoulders have slumped slightly.

There’s a pause.

“I dont think I can be what you need, in terms of dominant,” Arthur’s voice is cautious, “But I discovered that I, uh, I liked watching you with Harry. Like….I really enjoyed it and have been thinking about it a lot.”

YN’s eyebrows raise to the ceiling.

That was not how she expected this conversation to go.

++

Harry asks YN and Arthur to come into the club on a weekday night to discuss what they are asking from him.

They weren’t able to get a hold of them and the secretary was able to set up an appointment to talk about their membership.

YN and Arthur are sat in his office, dark with the green undertones accented throughout the room, matte and deep oak wood.

The door opens behind them, YN feels herself tense and Arthur must feel it too because he gives her a reassuring squeeze on the hand he’s holding of hers.

“If you’re here to cancel your membership, you’re still charge for the entirety of the year. You already signed a contractual agreement,” Harry’s voice is disinterested, dull as he rounds his desk and sits down in front of them.

“No, that’s not why we asked for a meeting,” Arthur is a bit flustered, eyes darting away like he can’t quite look directly at Harry.

“I’m not interested in doing instructional sessions. It wasn’t a good match and I offered you other educators we have here.”

YN feels like it’s purposeful that Harry hasn’t made eye contact with her once when he typical couldn’t take his gaze off of her.

Arthur’s hand is clammy on hers, making her want to pull away but she was in all honesty feeling the nerves of this meeting too.

She didn’t know how she would handle a rejection from Harry.

Even though she knew there was a much higher likelihood that he would reject the proposition than accept.

Raven had given Arthur a bit of information last weekend when YN and Harry were along in in play room still.

She had told Arthur that Harry hadn’t had a sub in the eight years that he hadn’t played at his own club.

Raven wouldn’t disclose what happened that made him stop partcipating and only faciliating, as it obvious didn’t take his interest out of this world or his ability to be a good dominate.

This was a shot in the dark.

”I am busy. Let’s speed this up,” Harry makes a point of glancing down at the very-expensive looking gold watch on his wrist as if he has a meeting with the queen after this.

”Of course, my apologizes,” Arthur instantly responds, submissive without even realizing it, something that makes YN’s skin crawl, “After the instructional session last week. My fiancée and I discussed our thoughts and where we wanted to go from there.”

Harry just blinks at him, heavily like he’s losing interest.

”And er, I definitely realized that I don’t have the capacity to be what YN needs in that aspect nor is it really my interest. However, seeing YN act like….”

”A spoiled brat?” Harry fills in, running his tongue over the front of his teeth.

He was so intimidating, just by the way he held himself, shoulders broad, head held high to show off the defineition of his jawline, and his faux calm demeanor like nothing in this world bothers him.

Artuhur chuckles, squeezing YN’s hand again, “I was going to say that she was acting so differently, free, and yes, bratty. It was unlike anything I’ve seen from her before and I do not want to be the one to dull that light for her. However, I still want to experience it with her…from more of a onlooker perspective like last week.”

Again, cue a twitch of guilt because Arthur was a good guy and he cared about YN very much but it didn’t stop her from the craving for something from Harry as it should.

”There are plenty of open doms here or doms that will have more than one sub at a time,” Harry’s teeth are gritted now, it was subtle but YN notices that way his fingers are gripping a pen in his hand.

”That’s not what YN is interested in,” Arthur’s has seemed to calm down a little bit, his voice more conversational, “We talked about it extensively and the reason we are here is because we would specifically like you to consider being YN’s dominant. It’s something we’ve both discussed and both feel comfortable with. If it is something that you would think about.”

Harry cannot hide the surprise, his eyebrow raises before he’s steeling his expression again, giving Arthur a bored blink, and he doesn’t respond right away.

YN just wants him to fucking look at her.

“You put clearly in your paperwork that you are not interested in other partners,” Harry settles on stating after leaning back in his chair, hand dragging through his curls.

”Well, I discovered uh…” Arthur starts to become flush.

”It’s fine, Art,” YN finally says, patting his knee, “Everyone has something there. This is literally the place for it. What you like isn’t unusual.”

“I like watching YN with someone else,” Arthur admits, looking down at his hands and trying not to become even more embarrassed, “And I feel comfortable with her being with you. I trust that you would take good care of her but also give her what I cannot.”

Harry narrows his eyes, “You realize what you saw this past weekend was nothing in comparison to what actual scenes look like, right? You’re agreeing that you're open to me doing whatever I please with her, break her, and it won’t be pretty much of the time. At least to the outside onlooker…”

”I know, I’ve done my research recently,” Arthur nods, he starts twisting his wrists between his other fingers as he always did in an anxious habit.

”I cannot give you an answer tonight. It’s something that I will have to think about,” Harry decides, sitting up straighter and tugging at his suit jacket to adjust it.

”Are you going to even acknowledge my existence tonight?” YN blurts out because she cannot take it anymore, he won’t even make eye contact with her, and she knows it's purposeful.

“Did the kitty need attention? Can’t go a minute without it, huh?” Harry chuckles as he slowly rolls his gaze over to her, eyes finally glancing up and down her body before meeting her stare once again.

YN bites her lip, refusing to give into his teasing if this isn’t going to have the end result she wants because the fire building in her belly is already back with a vengeance.

“I just think you’re being rude,” YN shrugs defiantly, crossing her leg over the other and bouncing it like she was impatient to leave, giving him a reminder that he does want to play with her - he’s said it himself.

That fucking smile spreads on his face.

The one when he’s challenged and he knows he’s going to win.

”I think you’re being a greedy slut but I wasn’t going to say anything,” Harry’s voice sounds curiously fond, enamored by her, and it makes her preen at the unspoken praise of his reaction.

YN scowls but when Arthur touches her bouncing leg, it drags her out of any floatiness that she was going to drift to, and it was probably for the best anyways in this moment.

“I’ll have an answer for you by tomorrow,” Harry tells them, standing up and motioning towards the door, and Arthur thanks him more than once before starting to trail out.

As Arthur starts to head down the hallway, a hand reaches out and wraps around her wrist, stopping her for a moment, and causing her to look back at the person who grabbed it.

Harry’s eyes are back to the intensed, lock-in almost predatory stare.

”Do you think this is a good idea?” Harry asks quietly, so even though her fiancé is oblivious, he doesn’t hear.

”I can’t think of a better one,” YN responds honestly, “If I’m being selfish, yes. This is a good idea.”

“And if you’re actually thinking about your fiancé?” Harry prompts, eyebrow raised and truly questioning her.

”He liked watching,” YN acts like she doesn’t know what the underlying question that he’s asking is, “I think this is a good idea for both of us. We’re adults who are consenting and both talked this through at lengths.”

Harry nods, lip tucked under his teeth, worrying it until it’s puffy.

YN feels a pit of despair at his reaction, it didn’t seem positive, and it doesn’t seem like this is something he will agree to which he has every right to do but the feelings must flash across YN’s face.

”Hey,” Harry’s voice is softer, his thumb comes up to tug at her bottom lip, “Everything will be fine, okay? I’ll reach out tomorrow.”

”Okay,” YN sighs, leaning into his touch more than she hold because it was definetly inappropriate, “Just…please think about it.”

Harry nods, letting her go, and starting to close the door.

YN can’t be one hundred percent certain but she’s nearly confident that she heard Harry mutter something under his breath as he closed the door that sure sounded a lot like…

”Don’t think I’ll ever be able to say no to you. M’fucked.”

++

YN checks her phone all day during work.

Nothing from Harry.

It makes her even more anxious when she gets a text from Arthur saying that Harry reached out to him and would like to meet privately that night.

YN patiently waits for her confirmation of whether he’s on board or not but the text doesn’t come in until after Arthur’s stopped at the club after work and they talked.

YN realizes that it was all very intentional when at right near midnight sends a simple text.

Harry [11:59PM]: After talking to your fiancé, I’ve decided that I will agree to be your dominant. However, that is contingent on how our meeting goes.

Harry [12:00 AM]: When your shift is done tonight, meet me at the club. We will need to have a meeting to establish further boundaries, limits, and expectations.

Harry [12:01 AM]: Understood?

YN is tired and insanely happy which makes her feel rather pliant and sweet.

YN [12:03 AM]: Yes sir.

Harry [12:08 AM]: Good girl for me already? Get some rest, kitty. I will see you tomorrow.

YN sleeps like a fucking baby.

++

The club is surprisingly busy for a Thursday night.

YN’s shift was in the evening and when she walked into the club, there were people playing in the free play area - very much already into their scenes.

YN knew she didn’t look her absolute best.

She had changed out of her scrubs, into a flowy dress that had been easy to throw on, and purposefully forgoing a bra.

YN had taken her hair out of her claw clip, smudged on some tinted lip balm, and swiped on a coat of mascara hurriedly in the hospital locker room before making her way here.

It had been all she could think about all day and now that she’s in the darken, moody atmosphere it was feeling very real.

YN doesn’t see Harry monitoring the free play from his usual spot, in fact, he’s not in the main room at all.

YN decides to go over to the bar, always in the mood for a Shirley temple, reminding her of her childhood a bit.

Raven was there, as always, looking radiant and unbothered as she greets her happily, “Hey! It’s so great to see you again. I wasn’t sure if I was after last week's session. I swear Harry had been in an awful mood after that and it only got better once you and Arthur came in for a meeting.”

That was…interesting.

“Did he say anything?” YN can’t help but ask.

“Uh,” Raven’s eyes dart to the side, shifty and avoidant.

“No, no worries,” YN soothes easily, not meaning to put her on the spot, “It was an experience. It wasn’t what I -“

“Hello there, beautiful,” A deep voice interrupts their conversation, a hand brazenly sliding onto her bare shoulder.

It wasn’t Harry.

The man was attractive, above average but held no light to Harry.

He was muscular, in a way that wasn’t YN’s type.

His muscles were bulging, like they didn’t have enough room until his skin, and he was making it obvious that he was flexing his biceps.

“I just saw you walk in alone. God, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Your tits are -“ The man begins to compliment.

Raven snaps her fingers, making a motion across her lips to the man to be quiet.

However, someone clears their throat, and all three turn their heads to Harry who was now standing behind them with a displeased frown.

“Hands off of her,” Harry murmurs, his voice is level, non-aggressive but still incredibly domineering that it wasn’t a recommendation.

It was an order.

The man removes his hand like he’d been burned, stepping back, and instantly apologizing the owner, “I-I didn’t know-“

Harry ignores him, glancing at Raven, “From here on out, please inform the guests that my submissive is off-fucking limits. Clear?”

“Yes,” Raven agrees with wide eyes.

The possessiveness as he puts his hand on her lower back was quite possibly the hottest thing that YN had experienced in her life.

The man disappears back into the group but is clearly passing on the message, whispered surprise as Harry guides her towards his office.

YN can hear bits and pieces of hushed conversation.

“What do you mean that’s his submissive?”

“He’s never once done that before. When he used to play, nearly a decade ago, he always shared his submissive.” “He must be down bad for her.”

“I tried to get him for ages to play with me. She’s been here once.”

“Well yeah but look at her.”

That’s all she can gather before they’re out of earshot.

“You’re off limits. They won’t bother you again,” Harry assures her as he guides her into his office, motioning to a seat before walking to his desk.

YN nodded, her heart was pounding, and she had definitely lost a bit of bravery.

Harry opens a folder, YN notices her handwriting, and realizes it’s all of the questionnaires and paperwork.

“This paperwork is fine for casual play but we need to establish more before I feel comfortable getting started,” Harry tells her as his eyes trace over the information.

“Your hard limits…” Harry trails off as he skims, “We have a few similar ones. Neither of us are into body fluid play other than come. As well as we both do not like temperature play, well hot wax in particular.”

“Allergic reaction made my bum cheek swell up like I got stung by fifty bees,” YN smiles shyly, it was so nerve-wracking, she was intimidated and he wasn’t even trying at that moment.

Harry lets out a laugh, a genuine one, a sound she hasn’t heard before and it was beautiful like the rest of him.

“I also had an allergic reaction. I thought my cock was going to be permanently damaged,” Harry’s smile is softer, the dimple still appearing.

“I still have a scar on my ass,” YN giggles, he’d find it soon enough but now he knows why she has it.

“Any other limits not mentioned?”

“No, I mean I haven’t tried everything but those things are definite no-gos,” YN tells him, her nails digging into her thighs unconsciously almost.

“And we will find out other things you don’t like along the way. Hopefully, we find more things that you enjoy,” Harry's voice is gentle, like he can sense her nervousness and is trying to ease it.

“Things you know you like,” Harry prompts, looking back down towards her papers.

“I like to be a…brat as you know. I really love the dynamic of pushing and pushing until I give in. I love making my dom frustrated and annoyed. However, if the aftercare isn’t sweet and extremely gentle than it ruins the experience for me.”

The smile had naturally faded off if his face, eyes intent on her, “You want me to wear you down? Until you’re crying for me to be nice to you but even then I’ll give you more. After we wrap up, you want praise, compliments, and affection.”

YN nods in agreement, “Exactly.”

“Was this what your previous dom gave you?”

“Sorta? We were younger and he was still really learning. He wasn’t as mean as I wanted but he struggled with that part. He was definitely a softer dom than what I wanted. He could only handle so much of me being a brat, it was a fine line because he would start to actually get angry with me and it was hard for me to tell. I never fully felt like I was able to push as much as I wanted.”

“You will be able to push as far as you want with me. If you think you can go hard, I promise you I will give it back a hundred times worse,” Harry's words are threatening but she knows he’ll make good on it.

“We’ll see,” YN pokes the side of her cheek with her tongue in an act of indifference

Harry glances at her from under his eyelashes, gaze darting down to her chest for a moment before her lips then her eyes again.

YN knows her nipples are outlined against the thin fabric, ready to be played with, and teasing right in front him.

“As for Arthur,” Harry’s voice gets serious again, “I already laid out to him all of his rules and expectations. I do not share in scene.”

“I heard other members saying you did share your submissives,” YN isn’t arguing, just curious.

Harry pauses, lip twitching before blinking slowly and very distinctly says, “I will not share you in a scene. Is that an issue?”

“No, I don’t want that either. I just didn’t know what made me different,” YN responds, picking at her thumb on her lap.

“A lot of things make you different,” Harry replies cryptically, he doesn’t elaborate nor does YN ask because he continues speaking.

“He will not participate. He will not speak. And he will leave the room when I’m providing aftercare,” Harry tells her firmly, fingers drumming against the dark cherry oak.

“And he was okay with that?”

“He was hesitant at first but aftercare is very important to provide. I should be the one taking care of you afterwards, at least immediately afterwards, and I take it very seriously.”

“That all sounds fine.”

YN has to bite back saying ‘can you ask Arthur not to be in the room at all?’

“We will meet every Saturday night. At the start of hours. You will not socialize with others nor will you participate in free play. You will be fully dressed at all times in front of other members.”

YN tilts her head, leaning forward just the slightest so she knows there’s a gap in her top, flashing him his first sight of her breasts.

“Yes sir.”

Harry’s fingers roll tightly into a fist, exactly how she would hope he would have responded.

“I cannot wait to make you cry like the little disobident brat you are, fuckin’ starving for anything I’ll give you,” Harry tells her, voice dropping noticeably lower.

“I’ve been good all night. I’ve said sir,” YN makes sure to sound as innocent as possible, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

It’s crossing a boundary, surely.

Arthur isn’t here.

YN cannot find it in her to care.

“Then I guess our scenes will be mild, boring,” Harry shrugs, his cadence going slower, deeper into his accent, “Shame.”

He stands up, taking his time to round the desk, and reaches out his hand, “I will walk you out.”

YN raises her eyebrow, “In a minute. My legs are sore from running around all day.”

She gets the perfect response.

Frustration.

Harry’s jaw shifts under his skin, teeth together, and nostrils flaring, “Get the fuck up.”

“Jesus, someone has an attitude,” YN mutters under her breath but obviously loud enough that Harry would be able to hear her clear as day.

She pushes herself out of the seat and turns towards the door, the opposite side of where Harry is standing to bypass him.

As she walks towards the exit, a hand reaches from behind her, his chest suddenly flush against her back, and a hand cupping the sides of her neck.

He pulls her back into him with enough force that it knocks the wind out of her for a moment and she squeals in surprise, airway suddenly restricted slightly.

“You’re cute when you’re brave, kitty,” Harry whispers in her ear, teeth grazing her lone, and he bites her - enough to sting, “I’ll show you a fucking attitude. One you’ve never seen.”

His fingers tighten for a moment and YN doesn’t think before she’s pressing her bum back into the cradle of his hips.

He was thick, unsurprisingly big from what she could feel, and she was craving that inside her as soon as possible.

YN reaches for the hand on her throat and surprisingly, Harry lets her move if, down over her collarbones, down over her sternum, and guides him right to her chest.

Over the fabric, Harry finds her hard nipple with ease, and gives her the hardest tweak she’d ever experienced, gasping as she grinds backwards.

“Enough.”

Harry suddenly takes his hand, his body away, and is standing at a distance.

He shakes his head, “We can’t be doing things like this. You know that.”

YN bites her bottom lip, she knows why, and she knows Harry is just trying to respect her fiancé even when she can’t.

“Yeah,” YN agrees, trying to stop the tightness because she’s in over her head, how can she only have him once a week.

Why was she so fucking in to him when she barely knows him?

When she’s fucking engaged, with a date, a ring, and her father’s blessing to be wed.

YN crosses her arms over her chest, embarrassed because she almost feels like she’s being scolded for her actions.

As she should be.

His hand comes to her neck, cupping it gently this time as he sighs, shaking his head solemnly before their eyes meet, “This isn’t a good idea.”

YN’s heart rate spikes.

“You’re going to destroy me, aren’t you?”

And the way he says it isn’t teasing but isn’t accusatory either.

It’s like it’s a fact.

“I’ll try not to,” YN peeps up, swallowing harshly.

Harry laughs wistfully, thumbing over the center of her throat before stepping back, “S’a bit too late now, kitty.” ++

Friday cannot come quick enough.

YN is excited enough that the buzzing in her veins feels electric.

YN had sent Harry a picture earlier in the day of a hot pink lingerie set and then simpler black one next to it.

YN [11:03AM]: which one, sir? [photo attachment]

Harry [12:34PM]: It doesn’t matter. You’re stripping the minute you’re in the room.

Harry [1:01PM]: I am very rarely spontaneous. I have had this night planned since I first sat you in the club that first night.

YN [1:02PM]: when you were playing candy crush on your phone?

Harry [1:03PM]: I wasn’t playing candy crush. I was reviewing your file virtually to see if you were available for open play.

YN[1:04PM]: i thought you didn’t play in your club anymore

Harry[1:04PM]: I haven’t in nearly a decade.

YN’s hands were shaking, excitement, confusion, and curiosity.

YN[1:06PM]: what would you have done if i had been available?

Harry[1:13PM]: I would have fucked you so well that you wouldn’t have wanted to even look in your fiancé’s direction ever again. That you would have chased after me like a puppy after that instead of it being obvious how much I wanted you.

Harry[1:13PM]: I wanted you to only be able to think of me every time you slept with your fiancé.

Harry[1:14PM]: I’ve never been a possessive man but something in you has sparked it for me. I typically share without a problem. The one time I actually have to share, it’s going to be a struggle. I’m willing to try.

YN felt that Harry was actually being vulnerable with her for the first time and she didn’t know what all of this meant. There is warning signs that YN is blatantly ignoring because he just fed her everything she’d wanted to hear.

YN[1:23PM]: thank you for trying

Harry [1:39PM]: I will see you tonight, sweet girl.

Sweet girl.

It felt different than the sweetie pie that Arthur went with, a nickname that she never had liked but didn’t have the heart to tell him.

YN may have reread their texts a few times as she got ready for the night.

She was going to have to meet Arthur there as he was coming from a work dinner.

++

Arthur meets her outside the club, giving her a firm kiss which takes her by surprise, he murmurs, “I cannot wait to see you tonight in there.”

YN rubs his shoulder, stiff when he kisses at her neck, and grips her hip.

“We should probably go in,” YN whispers back, stepping out of his hold to motion towards the door.

“Okay, sweetie,” Arthur smiles brightly, oblivious to any tension that YN’s holding in her body as he keeps his hand on her waist and follows her in.

YN had forgotten to tell Arthur about the rule that Harry did not want her interacting with other members before a scene.

And Harry clearly hadn’t communicated that with him because when they walk through the free play room doors, he guides them towards a group.

Arthur had made friends with a few people and they wave at them when they walk in, encouraging them to come chat.

YN feels herself start to panic slightly, this wasn’t good, off the bat she wasn’t following instructions and she needed to speak up.

“Hey guys!” Arthur greets as he pulls her with him into the circle of people.

“No, Art. I can’t -“ YN starts to frantically whisper into his ear as his brows twist downward in confusion.

Suddenly, everyone in the group goes wide-eyed, and YN has a sinking feeling that she knows exactly why.

A hand wraps around her throat, similar to the other day, and applies practiced pressure on the sides where her blood flows as he yanks her backwards into his chest.

His lips to her ear and it’s not necessarily what he says but it’s the tone.

It’s the dominance, the aggression, and something about it seems borderline primal, rasp and deep as he speaks carefully.

“If you think this is going to work in your favor, you’re very fucking wrong,” Harry warns with another squeeze, firmer this time.

Everyone around them is quiet.

They’re almost in shock.

And YN knows it has nothing to do with her and everything to do with Harry being openly dominant when he hasn’t in nearly a decade.

Harry must look towards the crowd, “My stupid lil’ kitty seemed to forget her rules already. You are not to interact with her prior or during play hours. Afterwards, it is fine. However, she is off-limits in every fucking sense. Understood?”

“Yes.”

All in unison.

Harry doesn’t acknowledge Arthur’s existence.

The hand on her neck was possession, ownership, and making sure everyone knew that YN was his to play with only.

“Sir, I-“ YN begins to try to speak when he lets up slightly.

Harry leans back toward her ear, his voice noticeably softer and quiet enough no one else can hear, “Hush. No play in front of others, remember? S’just for us. Now let’s go.”

YN closes her mouth and nods, eyes downward to avoid making eye contact with anyone who was watching.

Harry releases his grip, hand coming to intertwine their fingers which seems like such a stark contrast from where he’d been applying pressure to her airways.

It’s a quiet trek down the hallway, YN keeps her head down even when Arthur exchanges pleasantries with Raven.

Once they’re in the room, YN feels like she’s quivering in a mixture of fear of the unknown and anticipated excitement.

Arthur goes to the chair in the far corner without prompting, silent as he should be.

YN doesn’t plan to look at him at all.

Imagining it’s just her and her dom.

Harry is hers.

Atleast on Fridays.

“Do you have any questions before we begin?” Harry rasps lowly, stepping in front of her and studying her face.

YN shakes her head.

“Speak the fuck up,” Harry’s voice is substantially louder, meaner, and his whole expression has changed into something darker, malicious.

“No,” YN shakes her head again, biting back with a little attitude.

The same smile, deviant and enthralled with her response spreads on his face, dimples carving into his cheeks.

“Then let’s start,” Harry rumbles as he steps back even further, sitting on the bench, “Strip. Everything off.” + 👀 please let me know your thoughts! They make my day

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles one shot

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

i am confused

Making this its own separate post + expanding on it so it doesn’t get lost in the quagmire that is the book 7 part 8 update 💀

Feel free to let me know your own thoughts or theories too, I’m just rambling here.

***Spoilers below the cut!!***

So like… Is anyone else confused as to how Silver can use his UM Meet in a Dream so many times with NO ONE making a comment about how he's building up a considerable amount of blot???????

Vargas Camp seems to suggest that using one's UM typically uses up a considerable amount of magic compared to a non-UM spell. (The boys felt it would be dangerous to cast UM without at least a sizable magestone.) This is not true of all UMs though; Kalim's Oasis Maker, for example, allows him to offer up a small amount of magic to produce a great amount of water. So let's say for argument's sake that Silver's UM is similar to Kalim's and does not require a ton of magic per use. (Edit: this detail is confirmed true in the recent update.)

But??? That still doesn't make a ton of sense???? Silver was in constant battles against Silver Owls while in Lilia's dream, meaning he is physically being chipped away at. No matter how physically fit, capable, or well-trained he is, Silver is only human and his stamina and perseverance has its limits. He also suffered immense emotional distress in Lilia's dream after realizing that he is the son of the man who killed Malleus's mother ON TOP of having doubts that he is worthy of Lilia's love AND fixating on how no matter how hard he tries, he can never truly "pay back" his father. I guess it can be argued that the pixies healed them on their trek (+ there was that one scene where Lilia and co. rest in a Silver Owls camp) and that Silver "got over" his feelings after Sebek shouted at him about how much Silver is loved... Even then, that's not really a good explanation??? Silver climbed up those daunting mountains surrounding Castle Blackscale--mountains which have oppressive magic that harms humans. This is POST-pixie encounter, so he'd still be walking in with damage from that, not to mention the blow of lightning magic he took from Maleanor???? I'd also think that while Sebek's pep talk (well, pep shout) helped clear Silver's head, it wouldn't invoke a sudden character change on the spot; Silver would no doubt still have lingering feelings and would need time to properly sort them out and reconcile with them. They haven't been addressed in full yet, at least not until Silver can like get some closure on his own terms, maybe by sitting down and talking with Lilia about everything they learned. (That's definitely a topic for post book 7 though.) Now think about how many times Silver is expected to use his UM. At minimum, he has already used it 4 times (to show up in Yuu's dream, then to hop into Sebek's dream, then Lilia's, then Idia's). In the most recent update, Silver has used it no less than an additional 4 times (to jump from Idia's dream to Epel's, then to Rook's, then to Vil's, then to presumably a Scarabia boy's which is where the next update will likely pick up). THAT'S ALREADY 8 TIMES????? And he has like 11 or 12 more dreams to visit, including having to jump back to Idia’s dream and then prep for fighting Malleus???? It's like 20 times Silver is expected to use his UM, with very little down time in between because... oh yeah, TWISTED WONDERLAND IS ABOUT TO HAVE ETERNAL NAP TIME IF THEY DON'T HURRY TF UP 🤡 That's not even mentioning the increased loads each time Silver casts his UM (since they're collecting students like Pokemon to gang up on Malleus). If previous UMs imply anything, more people should make it more difficult to pull off a spell. Ruggie had to use a magic-enhancing potion to control a whole statium, Cater is strained the more clones he creates at any given time. Jamil's hypnosis magic cast upon a group causes him to accumulate blot so much faster. Shouldn't this be a major concern for Silver??????? Should I be concerned for Silver????????

Don't get me wrong, I love that we're able to dream hop and see what each of the main cast characters are dreaming of, but 💦 I don't know if I should be worried or not about Silver's health???????? Because I could see why the devs would just hand wave it off in this instance (cuz how else are they going to travel to each dream and save the world? They're kind of on a time crunch here...), but at the same time I can see it going the other way and sort of breaking immersion?? Unless this is all intentional and they're going to jumpscare us with a Silver OB or him struggling against it later in book 7 💀 (I mean... the guy hasn't gotten his limited SSR for book 7 yet, so maybe it'll be related to this???)

Or is it just possible for him to break the limits of his magic since this is a dream...? We’ve seen other characters OB at will and be able to seemingly stay rational while in that form... but if that's the case, then why does Silver still feel tired and physically worn down in Lilia's dream after fighting so much? Why do they worry about taking too many hits and actually dying within the dreams? Can't he theoretically stay at "perfect" health after using his magic so much???

Does it not count as using “real” magic since they’re in a dream and therefore have much more flexibility in how they spellcast?? Or is it that it’s their dream!selves casting so it’s not real magic since it’s not their physical forms spellcasting…? Is blot accumulation slowed since Silver is technically sleeping and rest helps with healing from blot?? But then how does that impact their real bodies if at all?

I DON'T KNOW, I'M CONFUSED OTL

#twst #twisted wonderland #Silver #Malleus Draconia #Sebek Zigvolt #Lilia Vanrouge #Diasomnia #Ruggie Bucchi #Cater Diamond #Jamil Viper #Kalim Al-Asim #vargas camp spoilers #book 7 spoilers #book 7 part 7 spoilers #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Scarabia #notes from the writing raven #Idia Shroud #Pomefiore #Epel Felmier #Rook Hunt #Vil Schoenheit #twst theory #twisted wonderland theories #twst theories #twisted wonderland theory

[pixiiipie]

edging zayne inspired by my mini thirst!

includes: sub zayne + dom reader | edging (giving) | fingering (giving) | handjob (giving) | porn with plot!

another victory for zayne after a very long loss streak from you. you swore he was doing this on purpose. everything goes so well for you just before he reduces all your cats to 1 and replaces them with his. that typical for him! acting like it was just intentional and not even flaunting his win. if he didn’t want it maybe he should have just given it to you.

“i hope this luck doesn’t run out for your surgeries tomorrow” you say dryly looking up from your cards to his expressionless face. “you assume this is just plain luck? how very childish” there was that monotone voice he uses to casually drop an insult. you knew he couldn’t help it. it was so nice that he finally had some free time but he occasionally finds it difficult to switch out of work mode.

just then, as you were trying to fight off a barrage of attacks in your head against him, an idea came to light. you couldn’t hide your smile and zayne probably saw this as he studied your change in emotion. “hey dr zayne. how about a reward for your many… many victories against me?” you say but he wasn’t too convinced. “this is a trick.” he says holding eye contact, his face never changing.

“i promise no trick! you really deserve this especially after these past few long days. i’m grateful to spend time with you.” zayne isn’t convinced and directs his attention elsewhere wanting to end this boring conversation. “well we’ve been here for a little while let’s go home. if you want your reward, come over to mine.” you say collecting your things together slowly to give him time to think. of course, he doesn’t need too much time to think over things that’s the amazing skill of dr zayne.

as you come to the street where one way will go to yours and the other to his, as most of your walk has been, you quietly turn to go to your home and like a lost puppy, zayne follows. it seems that whatever front he puts up, he can’t resist temptation. you smile to yourself and experimentally take his hand. he doesn’t pull away. instead he just rubs his thumb over your the back of your hand. your warm hand in his freezing hand. you lift them and give his a small kiss to his knuckles trying to settle him and promise that he’ll enjoy this reward. (if you’ve seen the keira knightly pride and prejudice, think about that scene towards the end with mr darcy <3)

———

finally home and on your bed you softly kiss him to warm him up slowly removing his clothes as you did so. most of your advances have been to get him used to such sweet affection and to encourage him to be vulnerable with you. “so how are you intending to ‘reward me’?” zayne asks same monotone voice but becoming breathless, half lidded eyes looking up at you. this feels very mean now as you take in his heavy breaths and red ears but you can’t back down now. reminding yourself of your plan, you answer him by holding out two fingers and gently pressing them against his lips.

it took zayne a little while before he understood what you wanted him to do (this was partially because you had never made him do this or because his head was becoming hazy. you’d never guess he was weak to kisses). “you should really wash your hands before something like this.” he says trying to act aloof but his breathing failing him. this brought all your annoyance back and without protesting, you went to go stand up before a firm hand grabbed your wrist. “it was only a joke. i apologise.” zayne says, slightly embarrassed. to try and make it up to you it seems, he kept ahold of your wrist and moved your hand to his mouth, taking in two of your fingers.

at first it was clear that he had no idea what to do. he knew the fingers were not usually an endogenous zone so was unsure of how you’d feel good by him doing this. as he continued, it soon clicked. his breathing slowed and his eyes fluttered shut. it was so cute watching zayne discover things about himself. “you’re doing so well.” you say, addicted to watching him. you needed to get on with the main event though. a small tap on his cheek helped him to come out of his daze slightly and he released your fingers. “did that feel good?” you ask, wanting to hear about his findings. “mmm yes… i liked that.” he said breathlessly. maybe he’ll give you a more detailed response later when his head is in better shape.

giving him a forehead kiss as a half apology you coated your fingers and a little on his hole with lube before getting an embarrassed confirmation nod from zayne. starting with one, you pushed a finger in and watched him let out a small gasp. a little while after, you added another and his body stuttered. you loved to watch him. he’s not quite comfortable with what you do with him with you watching so he’s always trying to hide his face and his noises.

holding the back of his head, you go to kiss him while your other hand finds his prostate. zayne’s kisses were never incredible but now with his thoughts being consumed by pleasure, they was even worse. you could tell he was trying to be good but they just turned out sloppy. you drank in his moans when he suddenly broke away from the kiss and hid his head into your shoulder.

“i found your favourite spot. doesn’t it feel so good dr zayne?” you say, trying to embarrass him further. all he could do was whimper in response, cringing at how sensitive his body was. with this new angle, you continue to abuse his prostate and start kissing at his neck. he couldn’t help but twitch at everything you were doing. you knew him too well. he knew human anatomy but you knew his body.

it didn’t take long for everything to become too much. you have such a cute boy! he never has time for himself so he’s always so sensitive to your touch. “c-careful mgh-! ‘m close…!” zayne whined holding onto your arm as a reflex and hiding into you. just as he did this though, you pulled your fingers out and waited for him to come out of his trance.

“i knew it.” he said with a shaky voice. “but did i say ‘a reward’ or ‘your reward’?” you remind him, stroking his hair with your clean hand. “both.” he reminds back trying to claim control over the situation. he was infuriating when he proved you wrong and clearly enjoyed doing so. “no matter. my point is, this reward isn’t necessarily for you. it’s my reward for being so patient with all of those games you’ve snatched away from me. now it’s your turn to be patient.” your words stung him.

“now how many times have you won? should we only count today? or since we begun playing?” zayne wouldn’t call himself a desperate man. he would calmly think his way out of situations instead of begging pathetically. however, he couldn’t quite think in the same way he could before… “please… please just today.” he pleaded, knowing that ‘neither’ wasn’t an option and you’d probably leave him like that to get off by himself.

you felt awful taking away the trust you built up today but… he looked absolutely delicious. this was probably the only time you’ll truly hear him beg and really mean it. he looked like a mess.

“so today was… three wins to you. you’re such a clever boy.” you mocked him. he couldn’t quite accept your praise but at this point, he craved anything you’d give him. “you’ve been so good so far. i’m going to edge you two more times okay? remember, no cumming until i say you can.” zayne nodded preparing himself. you press a kiss to his cheek (you didn’t want to push him too hard) and again, slipped your fingers into his hole.

as he was already stretched out, you added another to increase the ‘torture’ for him. as soon as you did, he let out a choked moan and rested his arm over his eyes. catching this, you moved it away where he instead held onto you. “i want to see my pretty boy fall apart.” you whisper into his ear before nibbling at his lobe. the noises he made were heavenly. he tried not to whine but when one slipped from his lips you tried not to forget that you were punishing him. with every brush against his prostate, his hips jerked upwards, begging for friction. cute

it didn’t take long for him to get close again as he was already so pent up. zayne considered not telling you and tricking you into letting him cum but he didn’t want to test your patience today. “s-stop…” he breathed trying to keep his voice low. just as last time, you removed your fingers and waiting for him to come back down from his (almost) high. “that’s my good boy just one more now.” zayne didn’t say anything. he just focused on bringing his breathing down to a good speed. he must have sensed that you were staring at him, worried he hates you. he took your hand and brought it to caress his cheek- occasionally nuzzling into it and pressing kisses into your palm. he’s so cute when he’s vulnerable. nothing to hide now so he may as well be affectionate.

he nodded to let you know he was good to carry on and you two shared a quick kiss as your hand snaked back down. however, instead of his hole, you begun to work on his dick. this took zayne off guard and he immediately started warning you “n-no not there i- it’s—!” he babbled but a little too embarrassed to admit how it felt. enjoying how little control he had over his body at this moment, you abandoned sitting next to him in order to use both your hands. one stroking him, the other fingering him but as soon as you felt his prostate “hng-!! st-stop! closecloseclose!” he warned and you listened. you quickly pressed a kiss to his inner thigh which made his body jolt.

“you’ve done it! you were so good im not surprised the calculated dr zayne managed to keep his cool.” you say taking in the image of zayne with his head to the side and chest heaving. his face was flushed and eyebrows knitted together. “i’d love to see you play like this. maybe we should try a few rounds with a vibrator and see if you can still beat me then…” zayne was barely processing anything you were saying.

you moved back up next to him and kissed his sweaty forehead. “are you ready for your real reward my love?” you ask. zayne simply looked over at you with an expression that only read ‘yeah right. i don’t like your definition of ‘rewards’.’

“i promise.” you say softly, “where do you want me to touch you?” you decide to be a little sweeter to him as this time, it really is his reward.

“both” he whispers. cute.

unfortunately, it didn’t take long for him to cum after being edged but you enjoyed how he looked while it lasted. the pure bliss on his face knowing that this time, he could cum. watching him get close, you started to slow down to tease him and he tried to give you a glare but he just looked like a kicked puppy instead. “sorry” you say with a smile “you’re just so beautiful, zayne.” your compliment as well as the use of his name (not dr zayne as you had used to tease him. just zayne. your zayne.) pushed him over the edge. “go ahead, my love. please do.” you encourage incase he was waiting for your permission.

finally he came and painted his stomach and your hand with a loud breath. he felt so faint but happy too. when he came down from his high and didn’t feel so dizzy, he weakly called your name. you quickly wiped your hands as best as you could with a nearby cloth and lay next to him. zayne moved his head onto your chest and used your heartbeat to ground him. you lazily stroked his hair and whispered praises to him. “your heart… is fast.” he managed to say still not quite all there. “it’s always like that with you.” you say pressing a kiss to his temple and that response seemed to satisfy him.

“slowing down was cruel.” he later said, his usual expression returning to his face though it did not have its usual effect when he was wrapped around you. “i’m sorry but you have really cute reactions.” his eyebrows furrowed at being called ‘cute’ but only briefly. “i’ll buy you a really nice desert.” you say trying to bargain with him.

“you know the way to my heart isn’t through my stomach.” he says blandly. after a moment, he continues “just… a kiss will do.” and you happily oblige.

if you enjoyed, please consider liking or even reblogging! any kind of interaction let’s me know that you liked this and gives me motivation to write more. make sure to follow to stay up to date with all my thoughts <3

#dom reader #sub character #dom!reader #sub!character #smut #💜•maris fics #💜•zayne #💜•edging #💜•fingering #💜•handjob #sub love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace #sub zayne #lads zayne #zayne lads #love & deepspace #sub love & deepspace #l&ds #l&ds zayne #l&ds smut #sub l&ds

[thef1diary]

Little Big Blurb | 3

— Mother’s Day Special

Max and Isabella spoil you with love and breakfast

series masterlist

wc: 1.1k

As you stir awake to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, the sweet scent of pancakes wafts into your room, gently coaxing you from sleep. Blinking away the remnants of dreams, you stretch languidly, relishing the warmth of the cozy cocoon of blankets surrounding you.

You pat the other side of the bed, in hopes of feeling Max's sleeping body, but your hand is met with the softness of the blanket instead. You frown, squinting your eyes, realizing that you're alone in the room.

The realization dawns upon you—it's Mother's Day. Your heart swells with anticipation, and a soft smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you imagine the surprises awaiting you. The only reason you remember the date is because Max and Isabella have tried to be very secretive, conversing quietly at random times throughout the days prior. Unfortunately, Isabella wasn't a good whisperer just yet, and you caught the two words, "Mama's Day," coming out of her mouth.

With a contented sigh, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and slip into your slippers, eager to start the day.

Padding down the hallway, the sound of soft giggles and hushed whispers reaches your ears, filling you with warmth. Entering the kitchen, you're met with a scene straight out of a storybook.

You spot Isabella sitting at the kitchen table with her back faced towards you, as her small fingers hold a crayon while she diligently works on something.

Standing on the opposite side of her, Max beams at you when he sees you, his eyes alight with affection and pride.

In his hands, he holds a tray, filled with all your favourite breakfast foods. Fluffy pancakes adorned with sliced strawberries, a side of crispy avocado toast glistening in the morning light, and a steaming cup of coffee, fragrant and inviting. But it's the single red rose placed delicately in a vase that brings tears to your eyes, a simple yet poignant gesture that speaks volumes of his love and thoughtfulness.

Max places the tray back onto the kitchen table, and nudges Isabella. She quickly turns around to look at you, holding onto something which you realize is a handmade card. Glitter and stickers adorn the card, spelling out ‘Happy Mother's Day’ in vibrant hues.

"Happy Mother's Day, Mama!" Isabella exclaims, her voice filled with unbridled joy as she jumps up from her seat to envelop you in a tight embrace. You return the hug fiercely, feeling an overwhelming surge of gratitude and love for these two incredible souls who have filled your life with so much joy and happiness.

She hands you the card, and once you open it, you find that there's a photo of you and Isabella glued inside. It's an older photo, back when she was just four years old. Her hair was put up into two pigtails, adorned with various clips. You clearly remember this photo, taken from an older digital camera. It was the first time Isabella had asked you to make her hair as such, and you knew that you had to take a photo of it for memories.

Along with the photo, there was a message that was undoubtedly in Max's handwriting since it was cursive. ‘Best Mama Ever.’

"Thank you so much, Bella!" You peppered kisses all over her cheeks until she giggled.

Then, you glance at Max, who watched the interaction between you and your daughter with a warm smile.

"Good morning, beautiful," Max says, his voice husky with emotion as he round the kitchen table and stands in front of you. "We wanted to make today extra special for you."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you take in the scene before you—the love shining in Isabella's eyes, the warmth radiating from Max's smile. "Thank you, both of you," you whisper, your voice choked with emotion. "This is the best Mother's Day gift I could ever ask for."

Isabella beams at you, her dimpled cheeks rosy with excitement. "We made breakfast all by ourselves, Mama! Well, Maxy helped me flip the pancakes, but I mixed the batter!"

Max chuckles, ruffling Isabella's hair affectionately. "She's quite the chef in training, isn't she?"

You nod, a lump forming in your throat as you realize just how lucky you are to have these two incredible people in your life.

The warmth of the morning sun filters through the kitchen window, casting a golden glow over the room as you gather around the table, a sense of peace and contentment settling over you like a soft blanket. Isabella chatters animatedly about her plans for the day, her excitement palpable as she bounces in her seat, barely able to contain her enthusiasm.

"I want to pick flowers for you, Mama!" Isabella exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "And then we can have a picnic in the park!"

Max leans in closer, his gaze softening as he listens to Isabella's animated tales with rapt attention. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, princess," he says, his voice filled with warmth. "I'm sure Mama would love that."

His love for her is evident in every glance, every smile, and you feel your heart swell with gratitude for the bond they share.

You nod, “yes, we can do that!”

As you tuck into the delicious breakfast spread before you, laughter fills the air, mingling with the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sweet melody of Isabella's giggles. It's moments like these—simple, yet profound—that remind you of the beauty and magic of motherhood, of the love that knows no bounds.

After breakfast, Max suggests a leisurely stroll in the park, a chance to bask in the warmth of the sun and soak in the beauty of nature, along with giving Isabella a chance to pick out the flowers she wanted for you.

"Can we bring sandwiches, Mama?" Isabella asks, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"Of course, sweetheart," you reply, reaching out to ruffle her hair affectionately. "We'll pack all your favorites."

Hand in hand, you make your way to the park, Isabella skipping ahead, her laughter echoing through the air like music. Max walks beside you, his fingers intertwined with yours, a silent promise of love and support that fills your heart with warmth.

As you wander through the park, the world seems to slow down, each moment savored and cherished. Isabella chases after butterflies, completely forgetting about the flowers as her laughter mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves.

In that moment, surrounded by the ones you love most in the world, you realize just how precious life truly is, how every moment is a gift to be treasured and embraced.

Taglist: @keerysfreckles @d3kstar @xjval @hc-dutch @the-untamed-soul @multi-fandom-fan221b @lilymurphy03 @shreks-best-tits @nessacarty1 @ldynblack @lighttsoutlewis @ur-fave-ave @namjoonswaifu @llando4norris @dark-night-sky-99 @majx00 @xoscar03 @wonnou @samantha-chicago @mlioravanfleet

#little big fan fic #thef1diary fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 fluff #f1 imagines #f1 series #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #fluff #f1 blurb #fic series

[violetasteracademic]

The bonus chapter that ended Nessian

This is honestly really surprising to me. Apparently there are people out there that think Nesta and Cassian are going to end up together. Have they not read their bonus chapter? SJM effectively ended them.

First of all, the way they think about each other is not romantic at all:

Cassian has no idea where he stands with her, and as you can see, he is so unhealthily obsessed with Nesta that he can't stop thinking about her and literally rushed to interact with her even though she doesn't even like him and is mean to him! If Sarah wanted this be be romantic, she could have made totally different choices. We could have learned they shared secret touches or looks, have their fingers trembling or breath catching around each other. But no, just confusion and unhealthy obsession on Cassian's part. Honestly, he kinda seems like an incel here.

Worse than that, it's clear he obviously only lusts after her:

He literally has not said one thing about her personality! He's just weirdly obsessed with her boobs and her scent and is just thinking about her stroking him. If we were supposed to have gleaned he has real feelings for her, and not just lust, couldn't Sarah have added something more sweet and personal here? I don't know. Maybe he could have brought her a thoughtful present that shows how much he sees and understands her when no one else does. But no. He just wants to get laid and touch her boobs. Honestly, ugh.

And let's not even get started about the Mor thing!

Cassian slept with Mor because he was jealous of Azriel! And if you recall, in ACOMAF Morrigan said Cassian just wants what he can't have and it has driven Cassian crazy for centuries that Mor never wanted him again after they slept together once. Rhys confirms this too.

Nesta clearly is not interested in Cassian. In fact, she knees him in the balls right after this. Honestly? This actually seems like a really toxic perpetuation of the Mor situation. Cassian yet again wants what he can't have, and it is actually in the canon text that he has this problem. Also, notice that he's ashamed of this situation and embarrassed to tell Mor about it? That's not a very good setup for a romance. He should have the full support of his friends and family in order for Nessian to work.

He calls himself stupid, he knows it's wrong, he just doesn't care for a moment because of the lust. Again, Nesta knees him in the balls. Not interested. Take a hint you creepy incel! And even though he was fully planning on devouring her lips, he is clearly not anymore!

But here's the real nail in the coffin:

Nesta forbids him from coming back. She threatens that she'll scream if he does and she is only willing to work with and talk to anyone but him. How is he supposed to get around that? How is their relationship supposed to develop if he is forbidden from talking to her and seeing her? I just don't understand how this is supposed to resolve in the books. At least hundreds, if not a few thousand of the tens or hundreds of thousands of SJM readers have read this bonus chapter. There's no way to come back from this.

Also- did you notice in ACOFAS Nessian's same drama is still playing out, but SJM interestingly enough introduces a character named Emerie and they have a scene together? Seems like SJM is clearly telling us Nessian isn't happening and setting up a new love interest for Cassian. Based on their limited interactions, it's actually really obvious to me that they are a much better fit and there is already a ton of foreshadowing that they are endgame. In fact, I think they are mates!

I swear this has nothing to do with the fact that I dislike Nesta. I mean, do I dislike her, and do I think Cassian deserves better? Yeah. But that's not relevant here. What's relevant is text and foreshadowing and the fact that I don't like Nesta and think Cassian deserves better because I've self inserted myself into Sarah's writing and want her to do what I want and I don't want Archeron sisters I don't like winding up with a bat boy I love.

Wait no... Ignore that second part I didn't mean to type that out.

#elriel #pro elriel #just being silly #i actually love all the sisters and bat boys this is just satire! #elriel endgame #elriel month 2024

[yumeka-sxf]

Thoughts on Spy x Family: Family Portrait

I finally got around to reading the SxF light novel, Family Portrait...and I mean "finally" because it's literally been sitting in my shelf since it was first released in English back in December of last year! I was distracted by Code White and the SxF video game which came out around the same time, but even long after that, I was having trouble getting motivated to read it. For some reason, experiencing SxF in novel format instead of in anime/manga just didn't appeal to me, plus the fact that it's not written by Endo himself (these weird preferences of mine are also why I'm not into reading fanfics either). Don't get me wrong, in general I love reading stories in prose form too, but for a series like SxF that already has such an established visual identity, it doesn't feel as "authentic" to me if that makes any sense. But I did want to read it eventually, since it is an official part of SxF media and Endo did the illustrations and does acknowledge the book (he wrote a nice afterword at the end). So I finally sat down and read it in sections over the course of this week! I'll share my brief thoughts on each of the contained stories:

Novel Mission 1

Since this was the first story in the book, it took me a while to get used to experiencing the world of SxF in novel form. There were some things I felt would have been better conveyed in anime/manga, for example, one of the very first gags about Yor misinterpreting Anya's nature class as some sort of hardcore outdoor survival trip. As I was reading that part I was like "I get the joke, but it would have been funnier if I actually saw these images and the characters' expressions with Endo's comedic illustrations." It was also a bit jarring to hear the characters thoughts and feelings from third-person narration, but I got used to it. As for the story itself, it was Damianya focused, something I'm not particularly into, but I don't mind it either. I liked the rare, soft Damian moments, and the thing with the squirrel eating Anya's peanut trail was funny. I also liked the scene at the beginning where Loid and Yor feed Bond together while Anya watches.

Novel Mission 2

Oddly, this was my favorite of the stories! Of all the characters, I think the author nailed Yuri's unhinged thoughts the best - as I was reading, I couldn't help but hear every cringe thought in his voice, which is a good sign of how well the author gets the character! I actually chuckled at a few parts too, both from his insane Yor-obsessed and anti-Loid musings, as well as from his banter with Anya. The police interrogation scene was great and would be even better if it ever gets animated! I also found it interesting that this story has the first instance where we find out what Yuri thinks about Bond (that he's fat and useless - rude!) Also his first time hearing about Franky apparently...makes we wonder if Endo will make him feel the same way if these things ever come up in the manga.

Novel Mission 3

I liked this story a lot too! I think it worked the best in novel format out of all of them, probably because it was more focused on drama and emotions than comedy. It's ironic that the two official SxF stories that feature the deeper side of Franky's character - this one and the omake chapter from volume 13 - are both not even part of the main canon! Alessa would have definitely accepted Franky's job as an informant, but he felt that someone like her should only be surrounded by "beautiful things." The poor man really needs to see that inner beauty matters too, and he has that! I also think he should have swallowed his pride and told Loid the real reason why he wanted the disguise...not that it would have changed the outcome. Poor Franky.

Novel Mission 4

This was a cute Forger-focused story, but like the first one, I felt it had parts that would have been more effective in anime/manga form, for example, "hair monster" Yor and whatever hideous painting Felix ended up making! But despite that, it was still funny and cute. Though I do think the author went a tad overboard with Yor's flustered antics...they just kept going and going, lol. Also, like the movie, we have another scenario of Loid getting flung into the air by Yor but landing gracefully on his feet (though this instance was much tamer since she wasn't drunk and only pushed him instead of hit him). Again, maybe I would have appreciated the humor in this story better if I saw it in anime/manga with Endo's hilarious designs and expressions, but for what it was, it was enjoyable enough.

Short Novel

This extra short story would be perfect as a reintroduction story for a future anime season...maybe one day!

-----

Overall, the Family Portrait novel is a nice addition to the Spy x Family universe. Even though I feel the humor in the series is most effective in illustrated form, it's still nice to have more stories in the canon, especially ones that show new sides to the characters, like the Franky and Yuri stories. Like the movie, it's debatable if this novel should be considered true canon or not, but personally, I don't find anything in it that contradicts canon, at least not yet. So yeah, definitely check out the novel if you haven't already! 😁

#spy x family #sxf #spy family #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #bond forger #damian desmond #yuri briar #franky franklin #sxf family portrait #sxf novel

[he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle]

Unknown - Ep 11 - That Scene

The opening scene of episode 11 landed differently for me than it did for others. I was going to just keep it to myself since I have a minority opinion, but when I rewatched it last night I fell even more in love with it!

The structure!! It's so good! Let me explain.

At the bottom of the stairs, Qian hesitates. He still hasn't made up his mind.

Yuan says "Do you still not get it?" He knows what Qian is feeling, even if Qian hasn't figured it out yet. So he says what he wants very clearly.

Yuan asks for permission to do 4 things:

1. Be more than just Qian's brother.

2. Be who Qian relies on when he's down.

3. Be someone Qian can talk to about anything.

4. Be with Qian for the rest of his life.

Before Qian answers, he revisits 4 sets of memories, each set answering one of Yuan's questions with a resounding YES.

After each affirmative answer, it cuts back to the sex scene to communicate that THIS is the culmination of all those yesses.

In other words, there are 4 direct questions and 4 groups of memories that hold the answers to those questions, 4 times those memories scream the answer is YES, and 4 cuts to a bit of sex.

Let's look at the groups of memories.

1. He thinks back to Yuan's words in ep 9. Does he not want Yuan? Or does he not DARE to want Yuan? And he remembers all the times he felt desire for Yuan, but suppressed it. Can he be more than just Yuan's brother? Yes.

2. He thinks back to Yuan consistently being someone Qian can rely on, all through his childhood until now. "If the world falls down, we'll hold it up together." "You won't be alone." "I like being around you." Yuan genuinely likes being around Qian and has never wanted to leave him. He's shown his commitment to Qian time and time again. Can Qian rely on Yuan when he's down? Yes.

3. He remembers how long and hard Yuan suffered while enduring one-sided love, and that Yuan chose to suffer in quiet for years rather than confess to Qian about it. But Qian knew Yuan was suffering that whole time and hated it. It broke Qian's heart to see how hard it was for Yuan. If he did likewise and didn't talk about things, he'd also break the heart of the person who loves him because of his silence. Yuan laid himself bare and told Qian everything. Can Qian reciprocate and tell Yuan about everything in his life, even the hard things? Yes.

4. He thinks about how Yuan has ALREADY built his entire life around Qian. "I can sum up my life in two words: Wei Qian." Memories of Yuan come like a flood, rapidly gaining momentum. Yuan has already been with Qian for most of his life, and will NOT STOP. Qian can't imagine a life without Yuan. So can Yuan be with Qian for the rest of his life? Yes.

Qian nods and says his answer aloud: You can. And then they kiss.

The sex is not the point. It's the culmination. It's all the yesses stacked on top each other until they break the last of Qian's walls. By cutting the sex so it only exists between each resounding YES, they've made it less about the action of it and more about Qian realizing that YES, they're ALREADY in love and unalterably committed to each other. Why not give in to his physical desires when the rest is so clear?

Others watched this and saw a sex scene interrupted by cumbersome flashbacks. I watched this and saw a dramatic feelings realization interrupted by snippets of quite lovely sex that drove those feelings home.

A final note: It's probably because I'm demisexual, but I am frequently unmoved by sex scenes, especially when they do not advance the plot or the character development. This onscreen scene moved me. It hit the right emotional note. It was focused primarily on Qian's pov (his face is the one the camera is focusing on). And it was artfully done, instead of merely being titillating.

I'm tagging a few people who I recall talking about this in their posts, but it's been a couple of weeks so forgive me if I leave someone out or misremember. @absolutebl @lurkingshan @bengiyo @wen-kexing-apologist @wanderlust-in-my-soul @twig-tea

#unknown #unknown the series #asian gay dramas #taiwanese bl

[cyber333angel]

getting spanked by rafe because he saw you talking to a pogue..

you have been rafe camerons girlfriend for a long time, everyone knew you were his. there were signs to tell that you belonged to him all over your body. from the gold anklet that dangled on your foot, to the “r.c” tattoo that is branded under your boob, flexing when you wore a bathing suit . except not everyone chose to acknowledge how much you meant to rafe.

you and your boyfriend were currently at a party, it was a typical kook house and owned by one of rafes friends, kelce. sitting on the couch for about 30 minutes you watched as your boyfriend sold coke to a broad amount of people, you knew he sold and you honestly didn’t mind. but it did get very tiresome to watch. “rafey m’bored. we’ve been sitting here like allll day! it’s a party, i wanna actually do something!” your boyfriend ignored you, persuading a customers into buying some coke. “rafey!” you grip his arm and looks back at you “kid, can’t you see im working? go play with your girlfriends or something till im done.” you pout at him and mumble “y’re so annoying.” him not paying attention to you, you leave and go find someone who is actually willing to talk to you. you find a friend of yours and drink a couple of shots in the kitchen but she tells you that she needs to go the bathroom, you nod and stay put. soon after you see an old friend.

“oh m gee! hey jayj!” you have known jj maybank since you childhood. both growing up as “pogues” but since your parents had a good business they grew into more money, naturally making you two grow apart. “hey princess. how’s kook life been treating’ya.” you roll your eyes and talk to him for while. back at the table rafe hears from a friend that he caught his girl flirting with a pogue. instantly aggravated from the rumor, he makes his way to the kitchen, finding you with all smiles talking to some guy. furious, he steps between you and jj, “heard you were-uh flirting with my girl, is that-that true?” he looks at him picking a fight, you attempt to explain the misinterpreted scene to him “rafe-“ he pushes your arm away. “nah let the fucking pogue answer, baby.” his patience was gradually thinning out.

“calm down dude , theres literally zero reason to get heated.” jj says “no one was macking on your girl, alright trust-“ he was cut off by rafes fist connecting to his face, making him stumble to the ground. rafe grabs your hand and pulls you out of the kitchen “rafe what the hell! why would you do that, we were just talking!” ignoring you he makes his way to his car and opens the passenger side. you pout, “m’not getting in with you if your angry rafey.”

“sweetheart get in the fucking car, i promise you it will only be worse if you keep testing me, go sit in the car.” whimpering at the unsympathetic tone you sit down, you decide it’s best to stay quiet the whole ride. he pulls into the driveway of tannyhill and you try a last attempt to explain yourself. “rafey please listen t’me! I really was just catching up with him! I hadn’t seen him-“ rafe has his head down, rubbing his eyes. you quiet down when he puts his hands on your thigh, rubbing it up and down gently. he says calmly “go up stairs to our room and take all that shit off. when I get up there I want to see you with your ass in the air and your mouth fuckin shut, alright?” you nod keeping your head down, knowing there’s nothing you can do now. up in your shared room, you strip yourself of your clothes and climb onto your bed, feeling nervous of the punishment coming to you. hearing rafe come up the stairs you quickly get into position with an arched back. you also hear a faint jangle as he steps closer, in front of the bed he takes both of your hands and handcuffs them. you knew where this was going but it was inevitable to run from. rafe appears behind you “you know what you did to deserve this right? know how bad you disrespected me in front of people, you-you understand that right?” you shake your head frantically onto the soft pillow “yes daddy I know, said m’ sorry already!”

“I didnt ask all that, what your gonna do is count each time you get a spank alright? you can do that hm baby?” you nod again “yes daddy..” he pulls you by your waist to the edge of the bed, taking a seat and pulling you onto his lap, your legs and arms dangle off his thighs. you close your eyes and the first spank lands, a loud “pap!” echoing in the room. it stings, you squirm around in his lap “ouch!” you cry, but do as your instructed “o-one!”

“stay fuckin still.” the second one is even harder then the first. rafe had already done five brutal slaps on your right ass cheek. “your taking it like such a good girl..good job baby.” your right cheek was already feeling numb leaving your left rear end a little alleviated. you know you’ll be bruised and hurting tomorrow. rafe sees some of your slick oozing from your cunt, he takes two fingers and plunges them into your sticky hole. you flinch and mewl, he chuckles. “you like that shit? you like when daddy’s upset?” the slaps did hurt but you couldn’t admit it did turn you on..well you didn’t really need to admit it seeing how the evidence was shown by how soaked your pussy was. “don’t worry princess im halfway done..” he spanks you once more, wincing, this time you couldn’t count. needing a minute from the intense sting. your boyfriend leans in close to your ear, “c’mon what number was that sweetheart?”

“s-six daddyy please m’sorry!” he mocks you “aw four more baby s’okay, you can do it.” finishing the intense ill-treatment on your ass, rafe helps you up from his lap. now sitting on him with a bruised behind and tears running down your face. “what’d we learn today sweet girl?”

“not to talk’to other g-guys and respect you.” he nods “mhm that’s right. I didn’t want to hurt you alright baby? just need you to learn to respect me and know who you belong to.” you nuzzle into his neck “s’alright rafey, i know.. can you make me feel good now daddy, please! m’so sticky!” he smirks at you “yeah of course..you did so good for me and I know how much this needy pussy needs to cum.”

#rafe x reader <3 #sorry jj 😓 #obx smut #rafe cameron #rafe obx #outer banks #rafe outer banks #rafe x black reader #rafe imagine #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #smut #he’s so mean in this but I like it

[symptomsofdeceit]

What’s it like to make out with Nalis? Just imagine randomly during a chat at work the player is like “I want to make out with you, can I?” and is not joking, and if he agrees immediately starts kissing him. 😀

This isn’t explicit but it’s a bit suggestive so it’s under a cut to be safe! Also warning this is a very long answer 😅 it’s almost like 3 mini fanfics

It depends!

🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋

• If you have NOT gotten ending 3, so Nalis has never thought about kissing before:

When you first ask he’d agree, almost out of habit because he always likes trying new things with you. He wouldn’t have had time to genuinely think about it yet though. When you kiss him he’d blush a lot and make a pathetic uncharacteristic sound between a whine/moan/gasp. He would then suddenly excuse himself because he “forgot something he needs to do”.

He’d find somewhere private ASAP - still blushing and feeling very out of control of his emotions. If your kiss was more intimate / your body was pressed against him, he’d also be extremely hard and end up with a nose bleed (idc if it’s unrealistic, it’s fun and I’m cursing him with nose bleeds when aroused. I need to add that to his current kissing scene too).

You wouldn’t see him for the rest of the day, he’d text some excuse about work being busy. If you’re the type to overthink he’d also send a “btw thanks for always being a good friend!” message in an attempt to make sure you don’t think he’s mad at you 💀

🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋

• If you have gotten ending 3:

Nalis would start blushing when you ask this. Up until now you’ve only really seen him blush when he admits you’re a good friend/important to him, and that’s always felt very innocent and genuine. If you’re perceptive you might be able to tell that it feels a little different here.

Nalis would probably reply with something teasing like “Oh~? You want to kiss me? Have you… thought about kissing me before?” while trying to at least partially hide the excitement in his voice. He’d feel really conflicted between really wanting to kiss you again (especially now that you want to and know it’s him), but also feeling anxious because of how he can’t control these emotions.

If it’s too soon after ending 3, Nalis would probably end up pretending to get a work call and using an excuse to push this off until later. He’s just not sure about how to handle having feelings + desires that are above his control yet.

🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋

I’m including this as a fun little bonus:

• If, for some insane reason, after ending 3 you have another encounter with “Thaumo shapeshifted to look like Nalis” and asks to kiss him:

Nalis would start laughing in a pretty unhinged way. He’d sound like a weird mix between mocking and sweet and ask “Really, girlie/buddy? You want to kiss me again?” He’d quickly walk closer to you and pin you against the closest wall.

He’d be very insistent on asking why, trying to figure out if you want to kiss him because you think he’s Thaumo, or if it’s because he looks like Nalis.

Either way, after asking that he’d kiss you. It would be more possessive and aggressive while he’s struggling with all his emotions. He’d also break the kiss to ask if you wished he was “the real Nalis”. By the end of it he’d be very turned on and his nose would be bleeding, and he’d be feeling very unstable depending on your answers.

(Nalis is willing to do more when you think he’s Thaumo because then there’s no risk of you losing trust in Nalis)

#symptoms of deceit asks #I’m sorry this ask took me a while #reminder that Nalis is a loser

[waltricia]

Bridgerton season 2 episode 3, “A Bee in Your Bonnet” is ✨magic✨ and let me tell you why.

For those of us who didn’t read the book and knew nothing of what was going to happen, we truly went on an incredible and surprising roller coaster of an experience.

We start the episode with seeing the guy from Hellboy and being like ‘oh yay, it’s the guy from Hellboy!’

… only for him to die three minutes later. And that scene is rough. It’s sudden and abrasive. And the sounds are jarring. The death is scored by tense strings. Then a moment of quiet. Then the AMAZING Ruth Gemmell begins taking us on Violet’s traumatic grief journey, which starts with her jolting Anthony (and us) out of the quiet.

And a thunderous heartbeat threatens him as he walks toward this entirely altered, unwanted life path. And that’s obviously the beginning of his PTSD.

In the other flashbacks throughout the episode, we continue to hear horrific, heart-rending pain radiate out of Violet while Anthony must not only attempt to endure it, but cover his own grief. Anthony and his siblings (and again, we the audience) all have to listen to Violet grieve while she’s giving birth! Screams on top of screams.

And the last flashback is technically quiet, but just as devastating because, like the moment of Edmund’s death, the quiet is weaponized. It signifies the death inside Violet.

It should go without saying that Jonathan Bailey is also a brilliant actor, but I’ll say it now anyway. Damn, he good! He and Ruth partnered perfectly in this grief journey. Serious props to them both because I felt this shit.

And then finally we come to the end. We had been immersed in the horrible aftermath of that striking tragedy. Between the flashbacks- in the present day- we had followed Anthony through the rooms and grounds where he had suffered silently. We had seen Edmund’s grave. We had learned that Anthony’s greatest fears and insecurities all stemmed from that tragic event ten years prior.

And then another fucking bee comes along.

And I swear to god, the first time I watched this, when Kate got stung, my heart was pounding, I was terrified, and my instinctive reaction was “oh my god, is she going to die?!” In hindsight, it’s obviously insane to think that she would be killed off at all, let alone in this scene. But the very fact that, for a moment, that was a legitimate fear I had is exactly why this episode is so god damn brilliant. I felt what Anthony felt. And I’m not the only one! I’ve seen other people’s similar reactions to this scene. The episode really is a roller coaster; easy, lighthearted moments (pall mall, drug tea), interspersed with the terrifying drops and loops that are Anthony’s painful memories which constantly haunt him. And then it brought us right back to that first traumatic moment. Because Anthony has PTSD! And that’s what PTSD does. Anthony is right back where he was, literally not far from the same spot outside Aubrey Hall, standing in front of a person he loves, watching them get stung by a bee on almost the same spot on their body. The tense string scoring comes back and Anthony panics because he’s completely helpless again.

And all of those elements- the setting, the scoring, the acting- combined to terrify us and make us forget something critical: most people don’t die from beestings.

And here’s where it gets really profound for me. Because it’s not just about how we feel Anthony’s fear. It’s also about how Kate completely obliterates it. Without knowing that history and without realizing the full extent of what her actions would mean, she does exactly the right thing. Rather than die and rather than also panic or shy away from his vulnerability, she meets it with her own in the form of care and steady assurance, which is true strength. And in so doing, she stops this cyclical moment in its tracks and completely alters the trauma. She puts his hand on her heart, and the heartbeat comes back. But this time, it’s not threatening. It’s inviting.

And just like in the first scene, the moment is over all too quickly. Just like in that scene, Anthony is thrust onto a new path. But where that moment was damaging, this one is healing. And we feel that too. And it’s the greatest experience that art can give us.

It’s catharsis.

And that’s why this episode is magic. 🐝✨

#this ep is the reason i’m insane about this show #i love a cathartic experience #please watch it and really listen bc the sound mixing is so important #a bee in your bonnet #kanthony #anthony bridgerton #kate bridgerton #kate sharma #violet bridgerton #edmund bridgerton #bridgerton #2x03 #netflix #ruth gemmell #jonathan bailey #simone ashley #rupert evans

[howlingday]

wanna do this scene but with jaune and what ever ships you think fit?

IT'S HERE! IT'S HERE!

Jaune: Alright, time to grab those blankets and- Huh?

Ruby: (Snoozing on blanket)

Nora: (Snoozing on blanket)

Jaune: Ruby.... and Nora..?

Daydream

Jaune: C'mon, Ruby, wake up!

Ruby: Mm... Jaune?

Jaune: I put these blankets out to dry, not for you guys to sleep on.

Nora: (Snoring)

Ruby: But they feel really nice. They're soft and they smell nice...

Jaune: Yeah, that's why I laid them out to-

Ruby: (Grabs Jaune, Pulls him down) C'mon, Jaune~! Sleep with us, too~!

Jaune: (Struggling) Stop wrinkling the blankets! Ruby!

Ruby: (Patting) Jaune, you're such a good boy...

Jaune: (Thinking) Mm... This does feel nice... I have been up since last night, so maybe...

Ruby: (Muttering as Jaune dozes)

Pyrrha: (Gasps) Wh-What is this?! Should... Should I wake them? Why do I feel like I shouldn't disturb them?

Ruby: (Cuddling Jaune)

Pyrrha: ...

Pyrrha: (Lowers herself, Thinking) Slowly... Carefully... Quietly...

Weiss: And what exactly do you think you're doing?

Pyrrha: !!!

Pyrrha: I-

Weiss: Hush. Quiet. Honestly, these three have no shame in where they sleep.

Pyrrha: Um... Uh...

Weiss: Blankets warm and dry on the floor do feel good, however. (Rolling Ruby away, Taking her place) I got the first-class spot~!

Ruby: HEY! Weiss, you thief! That's my spot~!

Weiss: And it smells so good~!

Ruby: RGH! (Bites Weiss' head) GET UP!

Weiss: (Thrashing) FINE! Just stop it before you end up waking Jaune with all this racket!

Jaune: ...

Weiss: ...Why isn't he waking up?

Ruby: He won't. I made sure of that.

Pyrrha: !!!

Weiss: !!!

Weiss: (Wrenching Ruby's ears) WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!

Ruby: I JUST WANTED TO NAP WITH JAUNE~!

Weiss: GET RID OF IT NOW!

Ruby: I WILL! I WILL! I PROMISE~!

Ruby: (Free) Oh, but are you sure you want me to remove it~?

Weiss: What? What are you talking about?

Ruby: Oh well, since Weiss wants me to remove it~!

Ruby: (Leans in to kiss Jaune)

Weiss: HEY! What the hell are you doing, you brat?!

Ruby: Fairy tales say that only a kiss from a princess will wake him up! DUH!

Weiss: IT'S THE OTHER WAY AROUND, YOU DOLT!

Ruby: WHAT?! So you don't care if Jaune never wakes up?!

Weiss: Of course not!

Pyrrha: Um... Ruby?

Ruby: WHAT?!

Pyrrha: Nora isn't waking up either. Did you cast your spell on her, too?

Ruby: Of course not!

Nora: (Snork!) Sho warm~.

#rwby #fate stay night #fate #fate series #my answer #my answers #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #pyrrha nikos #nora valkyrie #white knight #lancaster #arkos

[emmyrosee]

what haVE I DONE AND STARTED-

——

Kuna ❤️‍🔥 look out the window to see some fuck shit

Immediately, your brow cocks at the random text from your boyfriend as you finish helping his mom wash the dishes. He’s been outside with Yuuji for who knows how long, pushing him on the swings and chasing after him playfully as his mother coos at the sight, but you can’t imagine what would make him stop and text you.

When you look out the back window, the yard is empty, the swing set’s swings swaying slightly in the breeze, the whole yard looking warm by the sun. There’s no one back there, and you excuse yourself from his mother to look make your way to the other window. There’s a sound of a lawnmower roaring, something his mother had indeed asked him to do, but when you get to the window, you smile dopily at the sight.

Yuuji, chubby hands holding onto the handles, mimics his older brother’s pushing of a tiny play lawnmower over the grass, balls suck inside of the toy popping to imitate the sound. You don’t hear it over the sound of Sukuna’s own lawn mower, which he pushes in a straight line to counteract yuuji’s crooked one. Yuuji’s eyes are watching his brother excitedly, and Sukuna’s face is relaxed in neutrality.

You beam and watch the scene for who knows how long, only blinking back to reality, when yuuji waves at you, tugging his brother’s pants for his attention. Sukuna winks at you in acknowledgment, and you feel your cheeks heat up in fluster.

“He wants to be just like his big brother,” their mother coos, sneaking up behind you to watch along with you.

You smile and nod, “Sukuna’s such a good brother.” Their mother chuckles and nudges you softly, getting your attention.

“He got his patience from you,” she assures, and she pats you on the shoulder as you cock a brow at her in confusion. “He sees the way you interact with Yuuji. He wants to do the same. I see it.”

“He’s known yuuji a lot longer than I have,” you chuckle. His mother gives you a loving pat on the back, and you lay your hand on hers.

“He’s lucky to have you,” she whispers before leaving the space to head back to the kitchen, and you lean against the doorframe to keep watching the brothers move their respective lawnmowers over the grass, yuuji waving his hand at you every now and again.

You smile, “I guess I’m lucky to have them too,” you whisper to yourself.

#AWWWWWWWWWWWshutupletmethinkmyownwritingiscuteWWWWWWW #sukuna #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader #sukuna x gn!reader #sukuna x reader fluff #sukuna imagine #sukuna jjk #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen fluff #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x gn!reader #sukuna ryomen x reader fluff #sukuna ryomen imagine #sukuna ryomen jjk #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk imagine #jjk x reader #jjk x gn!reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x yn

[nobody-nexus]

Obsession AU: UPDATED

I promise I didn't forget about this AU- In fact I've been updating it behind the scenes ever since episode 2 released! And now, with proper reference sheets, you now have a better idea of what they look like, and who they are! Alongside the new members!

(5 Facts About Pomni)

-She will never feed human meat to any person. It is THEIR hunt, and therefore if she eats it, it's ALL THEIRS. She'd never give it to others for that very reason

-Their hands are heavily damaged, having MANY scars. Due to this, she will wear as much hand covering as possible, refusing to give any more details on their appearance due to her record

-As if their stalker like obsession with Amanda isn't enough of an issue, she also has a mannequin in their home that she practices dancing with to old songs they like

-She has Hematolagnia- AKA a blood fetish. YES, she has issues if that wasn't already clear enough

-The scars that are on their body are from self-defense attempts from three different victims

(5 Facts About Amanda)

-Her damaged eye is from an incident where a kid hit her with a meat cleaver. Although she thankfully didn't lose her eye, she's 1/3rd blind and legally isn't allowed to drive because of it

-She knows how to cook! Although she does more baking than cooking, she loves to collect cookbooks and learn new recipes of various kinds! Especially ones from outside the United States

-She has scented candles in her home, and her home never smells like the same thing twice

-While she was away from her hometown, the only one that she kept in contact with was her brother, Jackson via text

-Her vitiligo started to pop up when she was 19

(5 Facts About Jackson)

-He is Zoey's roommate

-Jackson was an accidental child unlike his older sister

-He plays violent video games of all kinds. He loves being able to cause blood, death, and chaos without having to go to jail for it

-He likes sour candy a bit too much. Like it's a borderline issue with how much he's willing to pay just for sour candy and the feeling of it numbing his mouth

-Has a habit of stealing and shoplifting, being a bit TOO good at the action. He's gotten in trouble a few times before, but nowadays no one really seems to notice or care

(5 Facts About Grace)

-Grace was born an albino, having the palest skin out of most people in the town along with red eyes and white hair. It's unknown if her being albino was why she was so sickly as a child

-She loves to draw and will constantly have drawing/writing tools with her alongside notebooks or loose paper

-She's in the middle of quite the complicated situation between Amanda and Pomni

-Her most eaten food is soup, stew, and ramen

-She sees Ceaser as a father figure, being the most to visit him and keep him company ever since Quinn went missing. She'll occasionally even sing for him to make him feel better

(5 Facts About Zoey)

-They're very talented on the drums and are willing to be a temporary drummer for a price

-Zoey has a bit of an anger problem, quick to snap and easy to piss off given the topic of discussion. However, they are going to anger management classes to help with it

-Strangling is a common attack it does

-They decorate their prosthetic leg commonly

-VERY much smokes weed and makes edibles. Once tricked Amanda into eating some- and it likes the memory

(5 Facts About Kinger)

-He has a bit of a staring problem, however no one knows why

-He refuses to touch knives of any kind. This was a more recent thing about him, so most people just help him cut things in case he needs any help with it

-Still loves insects, and you can get him to ramble about bugs depending on his mood. He can't help but love em

-He has a nurse help him in his home, however it's not uncommon for Grace, Amanda, or even some of the new outbackers to come back and help him

-Has a daughter, but she moved out of state years ago. They talk occasionally

(5 Facts About Caine)

-He wears a top hat to not only stick to his brand, but also because he's kind of compensating for his height

-He has a small limp to his walk, thus why he constantly has a cane

-Caine's pet is a white pug named Bubble

-Pomni is his favorite customer! He constantly attempts small talk whenever she buys from him because he's always so curious as to why his pigs love her so much

-Although it's undiagnosed, he very much has ADHD and is on the spectrum to some degree

(5 Facts About Marina)

-She was a detective before she even moved into town, however her skills were finally noticed more so thanks to moving there

-She straightens out her hair

-Marina HAS to work in silence or she'll 100% get distracted. Caine's not allowed in her office for that very reason (but he knows)

-She is usually the one to come home late at night and snuggle in with her partner at like 2 in the morning

-Her favorite activity to do is stargazing, finding the night sky to be absolutly beautiful

(5 Facts About Summer)

-She is LOUD. You can and WILL know when she's talking and what she's talking about

-Constantly will ask her sister Marina about Caine. She is VERY wary of him even if Marina keeps telling her to stop

-Never share secrets with her because she IS a gossip girl. She adores to overshare about others and spread rumors just because she finds it fun

-Summer's seen to be a lot better around kids then people closer to her age. Thus why she's a teacher

-Can NOT let go of grudges no matter what

(5 Facts About Gabriela)

-She was the one who came up with the idea of the stripper outfits for her club. It somehow works

-She calls herself the 'Gloink Queen' as a bit of a joke whenever she's on the floor

-Can, will, and HAS flirted with at least half of the adult residence in the town just for the fun of it

-Although she claims to be married, no one has ever met her husband before, and probably never will

-Gabriela is the reason Pomni sees adult based activities as more of a transaction than anything else

(5 Facts About Gareth)

-He has a picture of his mom in his wallet. His mom nicknamed him Gummi at some point, but it's not known why

-He seems bossy, but only around his friends OR when he's upset. He's a lot more chill when one on one

-He has a manual truck that he drives around, but no one is ever impressed by it

-The reason he's good with skinning and cutting up meat is because he helped his dad since his father was a hunter

-His favorite music is country music

(5 Facts About Max)

-He's the one who came up with the idea that him, Gareth, and Chad all wore hats. He somehow convinced them to do so

-He bickers with Jackston a lot because they're both working at the same diner

-Out of the three friends, he's the most likely to flirt with someone, but if they reject him he will respect the fuck out of that

-Constantly forgets how NOT flexible he is as a person, will and has gotten stuck in multiple locations

-Always calls things that almost killed him 'the reaper'. He has also almost died WAY too many times

(5 Facts About Chad)

-He has a super high metabolism, thus why he's so skinny

-Usually carried medication in his fanny pack alongside trail mix and breath mints for some reason

-He's trying SO hard to grow facial hair, but it never cooperates with him like ever

-Chad has a habit of slumping/crouching constantly, and he has back pain as a result

-Is the most likely out of the friend group to be VERY confidently incorrect

(5 Facts About Loo)

-She was born in Britain but moved to the United States for an easier start. Who know it'd lead to being the mayor of a town?

-She's been the mayor for about 5 years by the time Amanda moves back to the town

-She dyes her hair cause she doesn't like the grays that have started to pop up

-She's painfully oblivious to how unhinged the town can be sometimes

-Loo hates being called Penelope unless it's by close friends or family

(5 Facts About Ivy)

-Although she DOES shower, just speaking to them makes you think it doesn't actually shower

-She never thinks before they speak, leading in incredibly horrid things leaving its mouth in common conversation

-Ivy is the only one who actually knows Pomni is a killer, however she finds it very attractive (this is NOT a good thing)

-Their diet consists of purely junk food and as a result it has basically a beer belly

-She has a dark/deep web fanbase, and they simply refer to itself as 'The Influencer' on the web

================================================

If you have any questions, feel free to ask me!

If you want to make your own OC for this AU, here's the blank sheet for it!

#the amazing digital circus #amazing digital circus #the digital circus #digital circus #tadc #pomni #tadc pomni #ragatha #tadc ragatha #jax #tadc jax #gangle #tadc gangle #zooble #tadc zooble #kinger #tadc kinger #caine #tadc caine #tadc moon #tadc sun #gloink queen #gummigoo #tadc max #tadc chad #princess loolilalu #tadc infleuncer #au #tadc au #obsession au

[khjcs]

group: ateez

pairing: idol!hongjoong x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut, oneshot

trope: lovers to strangers ? to lovers again *head scratch*

rating: 18+ MDNI <<< don’t make me block

word count: 6.3k

warning: angst, mild cussing, mention of death (no one dies or plans on it), argumentS (yes, plural), mention of cheating, pregnancy on two occasions (not reader), mention of an abusive partner (neither mc), if i missed any, please lmk

synopsis: an argument between you and your significant other leads you to ponder on whether the man you’re with is actually the one indicated for you.

song playlist recommendation: “west coast” “young and beautiful” “video games” “say yes to heaven” all by Lana Del Rey

a/n: i know for pairing i put “idol” hj but it’s only alluded that he is. there is no actual scene in which it shows he is an idol, just small mentions of it. don’t get your hopes up if that’s what you were looking for. also, this is, in NO WAY a depiction of the artist. think of this more of an au than a fanfic if it helps. i really hope you enjoy:)

special thanks to: @luvt0kki for proof reading🙂‍↕️🫶🏼 oh and my sister for putting me in such angsty mood (by playing lana del rey in the car), bringing this piece to life. but she’s not on tumblr and let’s keep it that way. oh and the rain outside for pushing me to post this. i swear the mixture of rain, a good playlist, and a comfortable bed is such a good cocktail for writing.

navigation ・❥・ masterlist

Waking up in the arms of your lover on a lazy Sunday morning was on of the best feelings ever. You cuddled your face deeper into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent as the morning sun began seeping through the white curtains of your room. “That tickles,” he let out a chuckle. “I’ve got to take advantage of you allowing this skin-ship,” you retorted, both of you just smiling, allowing yourselves to be engulfed in each other’s embrace. “We have to get up,” you grumbled while pulling the covers off of your body, the cold rushing in quickly, creating goosebumps on your skin. “I don’t want to. Let’s just sleep in today,” Hongjoong whined as he got up. “You’re already out of bed. Tell you what, after we finish cleaning, we can have ourselves a small movie marathon, yeah?” “With cuddles?” His eyes sparkled. “With cuddles,” you laughed at his hypocrisy of “hating”skin-ship. It had became a habit of his to spend the weekend at your place. On Sundays, you two would clean your entire apartment together just before Hongjoong had to go back to the dorms for work. This week, however, you both had been busy and only had Saturday night and Sunday to yourselves, making the cleaning all the more dreadful.

“I say, we just do the laundry,” Hongjoong was still trying to negotiate with you. Missing your boyfriend’s presence, you were quick to give in, “okay fine.” Both dressed in comfortable clothes, you grabbed your load and the sheets, making your way to his car. On the way to the laundromat, he received a call that happened to appear on his car screen to which he declined. The all too familiar number kept calling. “Just pick up,” you rolled your eyes as you answered the call on his screen. A woman’s voice was heard, “Joong, I think I’m in trouble,” she cried through the phone. Hongjoong glanced your way and back to the road, “I’ll have to call you later, I’m a bit preoccupied right now.” Your mood had turned sour in an instant, you knew in a few seconds he’d be running to her rescue. “Love—“ “I know, you have to go to her,” you cut him off as he arrived at the laundromat. “I shouldn’t take long,” he got off to help you carry the load inside. “See you in a bit, okay? I love you.” You didn’t reply, you couldn’t. I mean, how could you? Your boyfriend of almost three years was still running behind his so called “best friend” when she needed him. “Love, please don’t be mad, it might be serious.” He tried soothing you, but you were too angry with him. “Serious? Hongjoong, I’ve seen you drop everything for that woman. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you practically ran out of your studio when she called. But Lord forbid I need you while you’re at work. I called you to hang out Friday afternoon and all I got was a sad excuse of how you’re stuck at work. And I get it, maybe you needed to get your creativity out onto a piece of paper and get it started. See, I kept thinking that to myself, making excuses for you. I thought you and I were in a relationship, not you and her.” You began walking off, trying to not cause an even bigger scene in public. “It’s not like that. You know it’s not like that. Please love,” he reached out for your hand. “Please what? You want me to be understanding of the situation? Because trust me, I have tried these past two, almost three years. Even before we started dating. I just can’t anymore,” you half whispered the last part. “What?” “I can’t anymore Hongjoong,” you spoke up this time, “I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want to be second to no one in your heart.” “But you’re not,” he held both your hands. “Oh but I am,” you pulled your hands away, busying them with the load that you were to wash. “Look, I have to go. We’ll talk about this at your place later.” “No. I’ll just finish cleaning on my own. Just go straight to the dorms afterwards. I’m not counting on you to come back.” You waited for him to fight for you in any way. You begged inside of you for him to understand you and stay. But of course, like a fool, you sat there waiting for your clothes to wash after seeing his car drive off. All of this ripping away the feeling you had not even 2 hours ago.

With a heavy heart, you finished cleaning the rest of your apartment. You had cried as you folded his clothes neatly, placing them in the drawer you had cleared out for him. Everyone had warned you about this. At the time, you were so naive, seeing him only through pink glasses, wanting so desperately to feel loved, which you did. He had made you feel so important when he worried about your wellbeing, sending you money so you could buy yourself whatever it was you needed. He had always checked up on you when you were sick, even calling days off to go and personally take care of you. All of this making you think that you were the one he loved, so it didn’t matter if every now and then he ran off to help his best friend, given their history. You couldn’t blame him for your obliviousness when he had been so honest with you from the start about their friendship. “She lived in my neighborhood so we would play a lot when we were younger but only gotten closer at age 14 when we started walking home from school together. She opened up to me a few years later when her parents were having a messy divorce. She really just needed a shoulder to cry on, and I was there to provide comfort. I see her more as a younger sister than anything, I promise you have nothing to worry about.” You laughed at yourself remembering his words seeing as he’s with her right now instead of with you.

You plopped yourself on your couch, in front of the television, eating a spoonful of ice cream to help with the sadness. The doorbell rang, making you jump. You reached out for your phone, wiping your tears away, to check the time. It was already past 8:00 pm, with no messages on your notifications; you certainly weren’t expecting anyone at this time. “Love, please open the door,” your heart clenched. You quietly rushed to turn off the TV, making your apartment pitch black. “Don’t pretend you’re not here, I saw the light of the TV turn off.” You curled yourself back into a ball on your couch. He had the pin to your apartment door, so why didn’t he just come in? If he really wanted to come inside to talk, he would have, but he never came in on his own. You waited until he left, which only sadden you even more. Only realizing now that he wasn’t fighting for you, for your love, or your relationship, making you conclude that he doesn’t love you the way he claims. The way you loved him. That if it came down to it, you were ready to lay your life for him, but was he willing to do the same? This only saddened you more. You reached out for your phone to call him, but the longer you stared at his contact, the more you thought about how he chose to leave instead of staying to talk things out.

You no longer had the energy to deal with this. Even if your heart ached, you knew you had to end it with him, for your sake. The thought making you feel stuffy; you planned for a late night run to help you muster up the courage to end the relationship. Making your way out of your apartment, you stumbled upon something, or more like someone. It was too dark to make out who it was. Afraid to take a step closer, you waved your hand in front of the motion censor light. With it illuminating right outside your door, you were finally able to see. Noticing a sleeping Hongjoong, your eyes soften as you reach out for him, “wake up.” You shook him, but he didn’t budge. “Hongjoong,” you shook him again abruptly, waking him up. “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he stood up, unaware of his surroundings, that is until he saw you, “please, can we talk?” “Let’s just talk tomorrow,” you sighed. “Can you drive? Do you need me to call your manager? A taxi?” You pulled out your phone. “No,” he placed his hand over yours to stop you from calling whoever it was, “I just really want to talk. I want to fix this.” Hesitating a bit, you decided to let him into the apartment, figuring you should hear what he had to say. After all, he did wait outside for you when you thought he wasn’t willing to fight for your relationship.

You two settled down on the couch after you fetched him some water. “I really am sorry. I realize now how you must be feeling with all of this. I’m sorry I made you feel like you were second to her.” “Then why do you still go running after her? Why do you prioritize her so much? Her parents’ shitty ass divorce happened years ago. She doesn’t need to be coddled anymore! She has a boyfriend for fucks sake, why does she have to go out looking for you?” You got up the couch. “Love, it’s not that simple! I wish I could explain it all to you, but that would be an invasion of her privacy!” “Bullshit Hongjoong! This is all complete and utter bull shit! Why are you so fixated on her and her needs? What about mine? What about when I need my boyfriend here? To come coddle me?” “Really? When have you ever needed coddling? Every time you feel down, you push me away! You want to be independent so bad! Maybe you should be!” “What?” Afraid of where this was leading, your eyes began to tear up. “Maybe we should break up…” he looked down at the floor. “No! You don’t get to break up with me over this! I do! I’ve put up with your bullshit friendship with that woman, so I get to do this! I am the one breaking up with you! I’m the one letting you go!” You abusively stabbed your chest with your index finger as your eyes let loose of the tears. Ironically, his phone began ringing. He took one quick glance at it before putting it back inside his pocket. “For fuck’s sake, just fucking go to her already! Run to her as you so desperately want to!” He just looked at you with a sad expression. “Just be honest with me,” you looked at him with pleading eyes, “do you love her?” You were honestly afraid of his answer. “I do, but—“ you cut him off after getting the answer you expected of him, but expecting it didn’t make you hurt any less. “Get out! Just fucking get out Hongjoong! I don’t ever want to see you again!” You threw the water bottle at him as he made his way out. He knew you like the back of his palm. He knew he fucked up and that no explanation, not that he could give you one, would help you two recover from this. So he did the only thing he could do that night: to disappear from your life as much as he could.

As much as it pained him, he found himself in his car driving off to his friend’s. You couldn’t possibly fathom what had happened that night, or why he had to urgently leave. But he had no one to blame except himself for always running away from you when his friend needed him. Hitting the steering wheel as he drove, angry at himself for letting the best thing he’s ever had go. “Fuck!” he screamed into the silence of his car, coming to a complete stop when he approached a red light. Resting his hands on the steering wheel, followed by his head. He couldn’t comprehend why his heart hurt so much that he wished to rip it out of his chest. The tears that flowed down his face a burning sensation. He wanted to give up completely in that moment. To just turn back time to where the two of you were still in the warmth of your bedsheets, wishing he hadn’t woken up. All this felt surreal, to go from being in his happy place with you to living a nightmare of having to steer clear from you. Even if he moved across the world, the distance wouldn’t be enough. He’d still want to run back into your arms and make everything alright. A car honked behind him as the light had turned green, he wiped his tears along with his runny nose before he proceeded to drive.

Stepping onto his friend’s doorstep, he knocked on the door. “Hey, you don’t look so good. Are you okay?” She reached out to cup his face but Hongjoong shooed her hand away. “I only came to tell you to not call me ever again. I’m done.” Hongjoong walked away. “Wait! I can’t raise this kid alone! Please Joong!” She hugged him from the back. “You can and you will. You’ll be fine. And stop calling me that, we’re not in a relationship for you to be calling me by my nickname.” He undid her grip from his waist and left her standing on her doorstep. Even though he wanted to run to you and tell you he completely cut his friend from his life, he knew he couldn’t. Nothing would make you take him back after he hurt you so badly. All he could do now was drive back to the dorms.

Meanwhile, you were a mess. It had only been a few minutes since he left but you could only assume he went rushing into her inviting arms. That he was happy while you were miserable on your bed. It was already past midnight when you felt a migraine creeping in, knowing you’d have to call in for work in a few hours, you decided to put on another movie. The migraine, however, won and made you fall asleep in the middle of the movie. The only thing that woke you up the next day was your coworker who had worriedly called your phone about 100 times, that being an exaggeration of your own. “Hey babes, are you okay? You didn’t come in today, did something happen? Did you and Hongjoong fight?” A stinging sensation arose in you as you heard his name. Your burning eyes couldn’t produce any more tears, as if you were dried out of your liquids. “Uh, no, I’m just feeling sick today. I should be feeling better by tomorrow,” you lied. “Okay, if I don’t hear from you soon, I’m coming over.” You let out a forceful chuckle, “okay,” and hung up the phone. Forgetting to close your curtains last night, the sun, brighter than most mornings, illuminated your room. You took this as a sign to get up and do something productive around your house. You sighed when you walked around remembering that you had just finished cleaning it yesterday, instead you went into your closet with a gym bag. You began packing every little thing Hongjoong had left behind in your apartment, down to his toothbrush. You decided it was time to take this step since you were serious about not seeing him again. It started off with you folding his clothes neatly into the bag, but as you came across the clothes you gifted him, you began just throwing the clothes in there. The room only became suffocating the longer you stayed in there to pack his belongings. Taking a break from it all, you went to the kitchen, preparing a small snack with water to replenish from your dehydration. You sat on the small dining table, that’s when you took notice of your picture frames displayed around your apartment. Most of them were pictures of you and your now ex. You just couldn’t get a break from all of this so you made it your mission to finish packing by today. After your very needed break, you grabbed all of your pictures, throwing them [carefully] in the bag. Only keeping your favorite one hidden in your closet, the pain of discarding it encouraging you to do so. What you initially thought would be one bag, quickly turned into four. This shocked you as you hadn’t noticed how deeply rooted he was in your life.

The ache in your heart only grew bigger when you saw the building to his dorms appearing bigger in your sight. You were too much of a coward to confront him at work, so you decided to drop off the bags at the dorms, knowing well he wouldn’t be there. As you stepped out of the elevator, his roommate emerged from their dorm, flashing you a big smile as he recognized you. “Hey Y/N,” the man you knew as Wooyoung waved to you. You forced a smile back with a wave. “Awe man, you just missed Hongjoong. He went to work really early this morning. Something about needing to write down lyrics for a tune he came up with last night.” He looked down to the bags you had placed by your feet, “is that for him?” “Uh, yes. Do you mind putting it inside?” You picked them up, walking closer to him. “Yeah, no problem,” he walked to you to help you carry the bags, taking all four from you. “I have to go now,” you smiled and turned around. “See you soon,” you stopped in your tracks his words catching you off-guard, “yeah, see you…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say ‘soon’ knowing fully well it was a lie. The taxi ride back home was all too quiet, but as it turns out, it was all you needed. You felt like you could breathe again now that you got some closure. What you didn’t know was that it wasn’t the closure you needed.

Once inside your apartment, you were determined to fill the void that he left behind. Now that you no longer needed the drawer, you contemplated whether to throw it out or to store it. Your heart not fully being able to take in the pain of you two being over, you decided that the latter was less painful. As you moved the furniture out to the living room, the doorbell rang. Cautiously, you made your way to the door, hoping it wasn’t him coming to grovel again. “Babes, open up. You haven’t answered your calls and I’m only growing worried for you. Talk to me, yeah?” Relieved to hear your friend’s voice through the door, you opened the door for her. Strangely, your emotions overcame you when you saw her and you fell to the floor, a crying mess. No longer being able to contain your sobs along with tears that appeared out of nowhere. “Oh sweetie,” your friend joined you on the floor, hugging your body, trying her best to provide you with comfort. She could tell something was really wrong with the way you have never showed any sign of “weakness” in front of her. “I fucking loved him so much, why am I the one who gets betrayed this way? Was I never good enough for him? Or was I just too blind to see he was never going to choose me over her?” “No sweetie, don’t blame yourself. Don’t beat yourself up over this. He is the blind one for choosing her countless of times when he had a treasure in front of him. Trust me babes, he’ll regret his decisions one day. It’ll come back to haunt him when he least expects it.” She helped your zombie-like state off the floor. “Have you ate?” She sat you down at your dinner table when you shook your head. “Let’s get some food in you, yeah?” She looked through your fridge, taking a few ingredients out to whip up something for you. You thanked the universe for sending you an angel like your friend. She had been there when you needed her the most, helping you recover from your heartbreak. You felt indebted with her for life. Jokingly, you told her you’d be her first-born’s god-mother. Funny how the universe works, the face on your friend’s face only shocking you, “how did you know?” She looked back to you. “What? What are you talking about?” Trying to understand what she meant, you looked at her. Only when your eyes fell on her hand that was on her lower stomach did you realize what she was trying to tell you. “I came here to tell you, but you took me by surprise with your situation. I didn’t want to make this about me.” Running to her, you went to hug her, crying once again, “I’m so happy for you.”

Time passed you by so fast. Suddenly you were attending the baby shower you had planned for your friend. As you walked through the venue, checking with the guests to make sure they were comfortable, making sure they didn’t need anything, your friends approached you. “Hey, you look good,” one of your friends mentioned. “Thank you. You do as well,” you complimented back with a smile. “Sorry to bring this up, but you are okay now, right?” Your other friend asked. You knew she was only concerned about you, but you couldn’t help but wish she hadn’t brought it up just as you felt like you were finally healing from the pain that Hongjoong left you with. “Yeah, I’m doing so much better now.” “I’m here whenever you’re ready,” their mutual guy friend added. He had been trying to get with you the moment your friends introduced him to you. You were thankful to your friends for trying to put you out there, frankly, you weren’t ready for that yet. You let out a playful laugh, “you’ll be the first to know when I’m ready,” you half meant it. You considered to give him a chance once you were ready to get back out there. He was a good guy with you, much different than him… He made sure to go at your pace. He wanted nothing more than for you to be comfortable around him. Leading to him often waiting for you to initiate any contact, but you never really did. You didn’t want to lead him on unless you were sure of your feelings. You managed to slip away from your friends and went to the bar that your celebrated friend insisted on having. Her excuse to you was that, “just because I can’t drink doesn’t mean the rest can’t. Just add it for them. For you. You never know, you just might need a drink or two.” She just so happened to be right. Your energy depleted, you felt the need to get a drink. Right as you received your drink, your heart dropped lower than the pit of your stomach as you caught a glimpse of a man who looked a little too much like him. In a discreetly manner, you followed him, only to be even more disheartened. It truly was him, and he was with her, except now she had a huge belly, had to be nearing birth. Leaving your heart a reopened wound. Out of all things you could have imagined, the idea of him cheating never crossed your mind until now. You gave him too much credit because even seeing them in front of you, looking at each other so fondly, you still couldn’t help but make excuses. Maybe he didn’t cheat. Maybe he only got with her after he lost you. There was no way that what he felt for you was never real. Except you have all the proof you needed right in front of you. With that, again, you felt a single teardrop fall onto your cheek. Still staring at them both, finally noticing when Hongjoong turned around to see you, making eye contact with you. He was the first to break it by walking away only after whispering something into the woman’s ear. You knew you were the one who told him you didn’t want to see him anymore, but you wanted an explanation of what you had just witnessed, so you followed.

It wasn’t that he tried fleeing away from you, willingly, at least. He only wanted to ensure he kept his promise of staying away from you, as per your request. He wanted to stay so bad, to go up to you and hold you again as he used to 9 moths ago, but he knew he couldn’t. He knew that his presence alone would only taunt you, more-so that he was accompanied by his friend. He mentally cursed himself as he made his way to the parking lot, beating himself up remembering your expression, he knew he had hurt you once again. He had told himself he wouldn’t contact you first, even if he was so close a couple of times. Only until you contacted him first would he talk to you. Not for petty reasons, nothing like that, but instead to allow you the space you needed. Even if it meant you would never contact him. A sudden thought popped up in his head. Without a second wasted, he went against all he promised himself and went running back inside the building. He needed to clear something up.

You had walked around the whole building before giving up when you couldn’t find him. You leaned on the hallway outside of the venue, catching your breath. The feeling you were feeling right now contradicting what you had previously told your friends. You clenched your chest, trying to keep your composure to go back into the party. You made your way back inside the venue, but your heart and legs had another idea, pulling you away from the venue. Speed walking towards the entrance of the building only stopping when you saw Hongjoong running inside. You both paused, locking your eyes with each other. Everything about that moment felt like a movie, down to the way that time seemed to slow down. You approached each other slowly, neither daring to break the silence, that is until you saw a tear rolling down his cheek. “Why are you here? I didn’t add you to the list of invitees.” You hadn’t meant to be harsh, but you only had one thing that you wanted to really say. Instead of beating around the bush, “congrats by the way. On the baby that is.” Hongjoong shook his head, “it’s not mine. That’s why I came back inside looking for you. To clear that up.” He walked closer to you, keeping his eyes on you attentively, making sure to not scare you away. “I figured that’s what you thought when you saw me. Your expression gave it away,” he stopped mere feet away from you. “I’m ready to tell you everything. The reason I kept going to her. Personal matters and all. No more keeping stuff from you. Of course, only if you’re willing to hear me. But not here, I don’t want to cause a scene at your friend’s party. And to answer your question, she was the one who invited me.” Hesitant at first, you saw the fondness in his eyes, which is why you followed him to his car, making your way to his dorm. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, instead you settled for staring out the window. “You do realize you left her at the party, right?” You rested your head on the window, still looking outside of it as it began raining. He sighed, “I’m sure she’ll find a way back home.” His response shocked you, making you sit up in your seat. “Don’t be too shocked,” an inaudible chuckle left his throat, “she’s really not my top priority.” He quickly glanced at you and your expression before driving into the parking garage.

Sitting on the couch across from you, he cleared his throat, forcing you to face him, “can I just start off by saying I’m sorry,” he looked dejected. “I truly have been miserable without you, I hope you believe me.” ”Even if I do believe you, that doesn’t change the fact that you ran after her countless of times while being with me.” “I know,” he sighed, bringing himself closer to the edge of the couch. “I know this isn’t much of a rational excuse, but you have to understand, in the moment I felt that I had to.” You let out an exasperated laugh, “you had to?” “Yes… her boyfriend was very abusive. The night you and I argued, she had called me crying because she had found out she was carrying his child. Not wanting her kid to meet the same fate as her, she decided to leave her house, to stop the cycle before it became more serious. But she was too afraid to take that step on her own. She needed a push, and a place to stay at in the meantime. I helped her pack all of her things that day and took her to one of her friend’s house. Both me and her friend encouraged her to report him to the police, though, they didn’t help much, we were able to put a restraining order on her boyfriend that same day.” “If you had settled everything that day, then why did she call you again at night?” You hadn’t noticed the tears that rolled down your face until Hongjoong sat next to you, wiping them away gently with his thumb. “She was afraid of the idea of raising a child alone. She had thought she wasn’t strong enough for that yet.” “So she called you to co-parent with her? Ha, I knew it,” you fidgeted with your fingers, looking away to hold back the rest of the tears that threatened to fall. “No—On the contrary, she wanted me to talk her out of giving up on her baby. She’s dating the friend that took her in. He’s a real good father figure already and the baby isn’t born yet. Y/N, please look at me…” it came off not as a demand, but a plea. He held your chin to make you face him. “Me and her are nothing more than friends, I mean it.” “What about when I asked you if you loved her? You told me you loved her…” Your voice now wavering. “Is that why you came with her today?” “I—“ he sighed, “I meant it. I do love her. But I’m not in love with her. I only came with her because I owed her an apology for ending my friendship with her the way I did that night.” A silence overcame you both momentarily, “I’m sorry,” your voice barely audible. “I feel like a fool for not trusting you.” “Don’t apologize. I know I didn’t help by keeping all those secrets when I shouldn’t have. I know now that there shouldn’t be any secrets between us…” he hadn’t used that word in so long, yet it felt right and wrong at the same time. He didn’t know if there was still an “us” to claim. To him, you wouldn’t accept him back, all he could hope for is for you to accept his apology.

You threw yourself at him, hugging him tightly at his words. You so badly wanted him back and the fact that he referred to you both as “us” was the perfect indication that he wanted the same. Or so you assumed. You took his face in your hands, looking into his eyes, searching within them the answer to your assumption. His soft gaze encouraged you to kiss him. He placed his hands on your shoulders stopping you right after you tried to deepen the kiss. “I’m sorry, I can’t,” Hongjoong pushed himself off of you. “Why? Why can’t you?” You looked for an answer in his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you,” his head hung low. “You can’t hurt me any more than you did 9 months ago. You sat up on the couch. “I want you Hongjoong. No, I need you,” you stood up, slowly undoing the zipper on the dress you were wearing. “Please, not here. Not like this…” he rushed you two to his dorm before your dress could fall to the floor.

His room still being filled with pictures of you two, pictures that held beautiful memories. “You still have them” you held a picture frame of you two, one you had packed in the bag you returned to him. “Of course,” he approached you from behind, wrapping his hands around your waits, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck to your now exposed shoulder. This brought tears to your eyes. He really does love you the way you loved and still love him. “You were the best thing that has happened to me.” You leaned your head to the side, giving him more access. Holding the back of his head with your right hand, closing your eyes, taking in the moment. Hongjoong helped you walk towards his bed, never detaching himself from you, not wanting you to slip from his grasp once again. Swiftly turning you around, he guided you to sit on the edge of the bed. Kneeling down before you, wiping away your tears that threatened to fall. “I need you to stop me if this isn’t what you want. Because this is what I want. I want a future with you. I want more than just forever with you. If we take this step, just know I’m not letting you go again. I will fight to the death for you.” You nodded, “this is what I want Joongie.” He quickly attached himself onto you, the kiss being very needy. With a hand to the back of your head, he urged you lie down on his bed. Treating you the entire time as if you were a fragile object. His left hand roaming down your side, reaching your panties, gently assisting you out of them. For each piece of clothing he took off from you, you helped him out of one of his too. Lying fully exposed on his bed, you waited as he grabbed a condom from his drawer. He slid the condom on, fixing himself back on top of you. “It’s not too late to back out love,” the latter word brining you such bliss, you pulled him into another kiss. “I wouldn’t back out for the world.” He nudged at your entrance, entering you painfully slow, allowing you to get used to the sudden stretch. You gasped when he was fully inside you. His movements were slow, causing a small sting on your heat. “Let me know if you feel even the slightest discomfort love.” He moved a bit faster, taking a few moments to kiss you ever so passionately. Never once detaching your hands from him, that is until you saw the sweat forming on his forehead. You helped him into a new position that allowed you to ride him. You planted your hands on his chest as you moved your hips up and down. The new position aiding him to be deeper in you, bringing you to loll your head back with your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling all too much. “My beautiful lady,” he reached out for one of your hands, bringing it closer to his lips, giving it a gentle kiss, “I love you.” At his confession, you slowed down, fluttering your eyes open as you brought yourself to face him again. “I love you Joongie,” you intertwined your fingers with his as you made your way down to kiss him. He let go of your hands only to fully embrace you, deepening the kiss once more. He reached for your hips to help you move against him, brining you both close to your high. You were the first to reach your orgasm, brining you almost to a complete stop. His hands, still on your hips, assisted your movements once again, allowing him to chase after his.

You laid next to him, both your chests heaving. Hongjoong went into the bathroom, coming back with a small wet cloth. He placed it at your heat, letting you warm up to it so he could wipe you clean. After cleaning himself up too, he lied down next to you, taking you into his embrace. You smiled at the man, overjoyed that you were in his arms again. “You should consider yourself lucky. You’re the only one I like to have skin-ship with.” The room was filled with your laughter. Happiness spread across both your faces now that you were back together. “I have something for you,” he left the room for a few seconds. “I made this thinking of you,” he settled down next to you again, giving you the usb in his hands. “Untitled (choose you)” was written on a piece of tape that was attached to it. He had composed a beautiful song describing how he felt for you. It was, if not, the best gift you had ever received. Well, a close second. The universe gifting him back to you was your first best gift.

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