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illyrian-dreamer · 10 months

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Our girl – Part 2

Azriel x Cassian x Reader angst

Summary: Deeming you unfit for a mission, the Inner Circle have betrayed your trust and shattered your life’s mission to avenge you sister. And the two males you love most were at the centre of it all.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: Reader unwell/not eating, depression and lots of angst.

Keep reading ⬇️

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You slept through any offerings of daylight the next day.

The bustle of the infirmary was a hum to your ears, your exhaustion keeping the world a distance away. Even the healers couldn't stir you when the frequented your room, changing your dressings and checking your pulse.

You woke for a meal of simple broth in the evening, and were glad to have kept it down. You still fought feverish sweats and chills, and the ache in your stomach and chest was persistent. Madja would oversee your care as she had the evening before. She had given one instruction – the more rest, the better.

Night set on the ward again, and you were glad to be enveloped by dim lighting and quieter activity.

Unsure of when sleep had found you, you awoke in an open field. It was bright, the high-pointed sun drenching the landscape in gold, the lake in the distance sparkling and inviting. Familiarity warmed you more than the sun, yet the scene around you remained hazy.

Ears pricking at a ripple of laughter ahead of you, your heart fluttered with excitement. It was instinct to chase that voice, your bare feet pushing from the warmed grass beneath them as you broke into a run. Your skirts kicked beneath you before you hiked them above your knees, both your speed and smile growing.

Ahead was the source of the laughter, a child who also ran, her long locks bouncing with a distinct curl. Meryl. She was no more than 10 years of age, her childish laugh echoing in your ears as your heart pulled at the sight of her.

“Meryl!” you called, continuing the chase, your heels pounding to the ground as you tried to speed up. “Slow down!” You heard your own voice then, also of a child.

The setting around you flooded with detail as a lost memory found you. Your visit to your parent’s good friend in Spring Court, an Uncle of sorts, his charming lake-side cottage where you and your sister would spend hours swimming and playing – and chasing! Of course! Each day you raced to see who would reach the lake first, and Meryl had always been that little bit faster.

Meryl responded with another laugh, so innocent and carefree, as a child should be. You reached a hand out, your heart pounding as you struggled to catch up. You ached for one more chance to speak with her or to hold her, or even to see her face. But she bounded onwards without ever turning her head.

A harsh breeze blew from behind, and the golden glow of the once-memory quickly turned grey and harsh as a storm threatened the sky. The water of the lake was now violent, thrashing with unforgiving waves. You halted your run, yet Meryl bound forward, her laughter drowned by the roar of the wind.

“Meryl!” you called again, your voice now of your adult self, urgent and panicked. As you tried to resume running, you almost toppled over, your hands catching you before you could fall. Something had anchored your bare feet to the ground.

With a yell of frustration, you tried to pry your legs free. Up ahead, your sister’s figure grew smaller, her direction set for the dangerous waters.

“Please! Meryl stop!” Tears began to well in your eyes as you fought to free yourself. You saw them then, the swirls of shadows that kept your legs pinned and unmoving.

“Wha-? Get off me!” You frantically clawed at them, but instead they climbed your arms too, forcing you to the ground.

Hands were on you then, tugging at your clothes and pulling at your limbs. Shadows mixed with siphons blue and red, and swirls of night clouded your vision, between it peeks of Meryl slipping further and further away. You clutched at the roots of the grass, desperate to pull yourself free.

“Stop! I have to save her!” you begged, your voice breaking with despair. But those hands were unrelenting, so strong in their grip as you tried to summon your power. That too rendered useless, cracking to a quick fizzle without so much as a sting.

Before you could call one final plea to your sister, shadows and hands and magic smothered your mouth, drowning your cry in their hold. All you could do was watch in horror as Meryl dived beneath the thrashing waves before your vision was overcome with smoke and night, and finally black.

————

Azriel and Cassian watched as you writhed in your cot, the feverish sweat on your brow glowing in the soft fae light of the infirmary wing.

“What’s wrong with her?” Cassian whispered, his face etched with concern as he stepped closer to you. He gingerly bought a callused hand to your cheek, running one gentle stroke down the length of it.

Azriel’s frown deepened as he heard your sister’s name muttered on your lips, followed by a whimper and ragged breaths. “It’s a fever dream.” he answered, his arms folded as he kept to the edge of your cot.

Cassian looked down at you, noting the tears that stained your cheeks.“We shouldn't have come here,” he said, his jaw tight from guilt. “She’s still unwell, we should let her rest.”

He and Azriel had easily snuck into the ward, winnowing straight past the few healers on night shift, and even slipping past Madja who was buried in paperwork at the desk near the entrance of the infirmary. But now Cassian eyed the door, just as eager to leave.

Azriel was only half listening to his brother as he commanded his shadows. They climbed at the base of your cot, swirling inwards as they found their way to your face and limbs, cooling you as you continued to stir, now a little more gently. Azriel did not show his satisfaction as he watched you sigh, finding some comfort in their touch.

The sound of a curtain being harshly drawn caused the males to jump, revealing an incredibly unimpressed Madja. Azriel cursed himself silently, having used all of his shadows to soothe you without setting guard to the room.

“I don’t want to hear your sorry excuses,” she said coldly to the males, pushing past them and setting a pale next to your bed. She shooed Azriel’s shadows as if they were a mutt on the street, and they quickly scattered back to their master.

“How is she doing?” Cassian asked, eyes pleading.

“I will not disclose that to you,” the healer answered tightly. Wringing the towel within the pale, Madja wiped the sweat from your brow. Your stirring had stopped at least, and you seemed to have found a deeper slumber than before. Madja sighed now, before casting a half look to the boys. “She’s improving, but is still quite weak.”

The males nodded, your sickly skin, limp body and slick hair as evident as the healer’s prognosis.

“Do I need to have words with the High Lord and Lady of their emissaries overstepping my regulations?” Madja asked without looking their way, wringing the cloth yet again before pressing it to your neck and bust. “Not to mention violating patient privacy,” she added.

Cassian hung his head low. “I’m sorry. I don't know what we were thinking.” Azriel refused to look at the healer, his eyes never leaving you.

Madja continued to care for you in silence, allowing Cassian and Azriel to grovel for a few more moments. Picking up the pale, she made to leave your bedside before answering the males. “I have worked with enough Illyrian’s to know of your possessive nature. But I won't be so forgiving if she wakes to find you here. Already your scents have caused more harm than good. She must not know you came, it will only upset her and might unravel her progress.”

“She’s that upset with us?” Azriel asked, his gaze beyond the healer before him, still fixed on you.

“Yes,” she answered plainly. Neither of the males knew what to say. “Now leave, before I regret showing any patience for boyish brutish idiocy.”

Azriel took the risk of another tongue lashing to send a final shadow to caress your cheek, before clasping his brother’s arm and winnowing back to the House of Wind.

————

You were kept at the infirmary for another four nights without any further disturbance from your family. They asked to visit, of course, practically begging through letters and pleas to Madja. But each of their requests were left unanswered, and you too buried your need to have them by your side while you healed.

It gave you time to think of a plan – you could not stay at the infirmary forever. When you had first moved the Velaris, while training as a spy, you lived in a small apartment in the cliffs that faced the Sidra. You hadn't visited there in almost a decade, but your once-home was written to your name, and vacant.

Madja insisted on settling you in, helping you climb the stairs to your room as fatigue still lingered.

Prying the stiff wooden door open, you almost smiled at the sight of your old home. A mattress lay on the floor in the corner of the room just as you had left it – you had never been able to afford a frame on training wages. A small chest of drawers was pushed up against the wall, and the kitchenette was lined with those charming blue tiles just as you remembered.

You were thankful Madja had sent a maid ahead of time, and while the musk of an unused apartment lingered, you were glad to not have to dust in your current state. The small fireplace contained fresh logs of wood which meant there was no urgent trip to the markets either.

“This is it,” you spoke more to yourself as you ran a hand along the kitchenette before making your way over to the chest, prying a stiff drawer open.

Madja was less than impressed. “Child, perhaps you would consider more comfortable accommodation? One where the bed is not on the floor?”

“I’ll be fine here,” you answered, distracted as you searched through your old drawers, finding them empty.

“The High Lord and Lady have offered to accommodate you elsewhere–”

“I don't want their help,” you snapped, shoving the drawer back into the chest with notable anger.

She pressed her lips into a thin line. “You don't need to suffer at the cost of their mistakes, Y/N.”

You sighed then, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I won't accept their fortune any longer. This home is mine, I worked hard for it. I will be perfectly fine here while I figure out a plan.”

Madja nodded, scanning the room once over. “Do not forget to take your medicine,” she lectured before turning to the door, knowing better than to linger. There was no remedy for how quiet the apartment fell when she left, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Mustering the little energy you had, you set your kettle to boil, waiting patiently for the steam to whistle from the tin, the only sound to fill the apartment beyond the distant hum of the town below.

After a few sips of tea, exhaustion found you again. Setting the mug of tea aside on the cold wooden floor, you crawled into bed, pulling the too-thin covers over your head and leaving your drink unfinished. With your back to the world that beckoned outside, you faced the wall instead, tracing a crack that ran across its length.

How motivated you had felt when you first moved here. At the time, you were grieving Meryl of course, but you had a plan – a one way ticket to ensure a balance in the world, to fight for some sense of justice. Never had you thought it could fail so miserably.

So you traced that crack with a weak finger, remembering your sister, mourning her with a fresh wave of pain.

Grief continued to weigh heavy on your chest the following few days. You had intentions on visiting the market, buying some food and sustaining yourself while you made a new plan. But instead you felt anchored to your mattress, the idea of cooking and bathing and facing the outside world completely overwhelming. Instead, cups of tea brewed only to be left untouched, yours eyes heavy as you watched the steam rising from the mug swirl and dance, and by the time it finally cooled you were already asleep.

And the cycle continued. In the moments you had the strength, you wept. And in the moments you didn’t, you slept.

It was after five days that Madja visited to replenish your medicine. The healer opened the door to your apartment when her knocks went unanswered, casting the first bit of natural light in the room in days. With your back facing outwards, you didn’t stir as she walked over and immediately collecting the assortment of mugs on the floor.

“Have you left this room at all?”

You offered a small shake of your head, unable to lift it from your pillow, your eyes red and stiff with dried tears.

“Have you eaten?”

Your stillness was her answer. Madja sighed. “Well we simply can't have that. I understand a loss for appetite, so I will bring some additional brews to keep you sustained.”

“I don't want them.” It took all your strength to turn over your shoulder and look at the healer, your voice hoarse having gone days without speaking.

She simply shook her head as she looked down at you. You do not have a choice, her expression read.

“Might you try to get some fresh air? Or bathe? I can assist with both if you–“

But you were already turning your shoulder to the wall, immediately exhausted at the thought of leaving your bed. “I’ll do it tomorrow Madja,” you sighed. “I’m too tired in this moment.” You didn't have the energy to wonder if she bought your lie or not.

The healer said nothing as she closed the door quietly behind her.

————

“I’m concerned for her wellbeing.” Madja sat opposite the High Lord and Lady in their study, a large willow desk between them. Rhys sat with his hands laced together tightly, a deep frown etched on his face. Feyre beside him held a sleeping Nyx, doing her best to not stir the babe while she exchanged looks of deep concern.

“She isn't eating. She barely drinks a thing, and has failed to take much of her medicine. If she continues at this rate, she will fall much more ill.”

“What can we do?” Feyre asked gently, stroking Nyx’s hair while he snoozed at her chest.

“I don’t suggests interfering at this stage. I am only here to warn you of my concerns.”

“And what happens if she worsens?” Rhys asked, his violet eyes holding the stare of the healer in front of him.

“I will call for you then. I hate to suggest the use of your daemati abilities, but if it comes down to life or death…” Madja trailed off, her hands clamping even tighter in her lap.

“We understand,” Rhys responded with a single nod, casting a knowing look to his mate. “Thank you for coming here, Madja.”

The healer stood to leave. “Do not thank me. Again, I am clear to not involve myself in what has occurred between you and Y/N. I am here purely as her healer.”

The High Lord and Lady stood too, seeing her to the door.

“Please keep us informed, and if there is anything that we can provide,” Feyre added quickly, almost desperate to convey her care.

Madja responded with a tight nod, turning to leave. And had she left only moments earlier, she would have found two Illyrians by the door, overhearing the entire conversation. But they were already on their way.

————

Lost again in deep sleep, you didn't stir as the Shadowsinger and General entered your apartment, Azriel’s shadow’s having easily pried the lock open.

The sight of your trembling figure curled up on the mattress pulled at both their hearts, your hands fisted at the covers with deep yet disturbed sleep.

Azriel stealthily made his way across to the bathroom, the sound of running water soon filling the room. With no dining table or chair in sight, Cassian set the meal they had bought in the small kitchen before quietly approaching you. He knelt down on two strong knees, brushing the backs of his fingers against your cheek before gently shaking you.

“Y/N, wake up doll, it’s us,” he spoke with a hushed voice.

Stirring slightly, you were slow to wake, blinking through the darkness as you were sure you were still dreaming. But as your eyes cleared, the large figure in front of you revealed itself – wings tucked in, hair pulled back in a signature bun, leather strapped up to his knuckles. Cassian was the definition of strength met with comfort, and it took you a few moments to come to your senses.

Your body froze before you sat up quickly, shoving his hands off of you. “Wh-wh?” you stuttered, your eyes dancing between his.

Cassian raised his palms in surrender. “It’s alright, don't panic. We’re just here to help you with a few things.”

Your found your voice then, deep from within your chest, hoarse and broken from days of crying. “Get out,” you spat.

Azriel appeared from the bathroom, watching from the doorway. You flashed your eyes to his, rage quickly filling your veins. How dare they intrude.

“We just want to make sure you’re all right sweetheart, and then we’ll go,” Cassian reasoned. He stood now, offering you his hand.

Days without eating meant the hurry you stood in caused your head to spin, black dots now dancing in your vision. But you held your ground, your voice even icier than before. “I said get out.”

“C’mon doll, let us help you for five minutes.”

“You’re idea of help undid everything I ever worked for.” You shoved at his chest, and he let you push him a few steps back, your hands trembling as you pulled them back.

“Y/N when was the last time you ate?” Azriel’s voice was gentle too, your vision reeling as you whipped your head to glare in his direction. Shaking your head, you curled your hands to fists. It was none of their business.

“Please, sweetheart,” Cassian reached for you then, which earned another shove from you.

“No Cassian! No! Do you understand you have done? Did you even consider what would happen when you decided I wasn't good enough?”

“It wasn’t like that Y/N. We had to keep you safe.” Azriel stayed by the bathroom door, his arms now crossed as shadows slowly seeped on the wooden floor towards you.

Days of isolation and exhaustion had tears pricking at your eyes already. “You are cowards. And I want nothing to do with either of you.”

“Please Y/N–,” Cassian tried one more time.

“Get out of my life.” You had never uttered words so cold. You shoved the General again, but this time he stayed put. Your gritted your teeth, seething at him. “You broke me!”

Cassian looked down at you, his brow pulling in sorrow.

“You shattered my world.” Another unsuccessful push, and you were crying. “Now I have nothing, I am nothing.”

Both of them watched you as your face crumpled, your anger rising as you punched at Cassian’s chest, too weak to cause any harm. “I hate you!”

Cassian’s eyes welled as he stood still, taking the beating without so much as a flinch. “We’re so sorry,” he whispered.

You shook your head, ignoring his apology as you began pounding against him with weak fists. “I hate you both!”

Tears now rolled down the General’s cheek as he let you continue your assault. “We’re so so sorry Y/N.”

You kept shaking your head as Cassian caught both of your wrists, holding them as he took to one knee in front of you.

“We love you,” Cassian cried, prying your fist open and kissing your palm, kissing up your arm, his thumb stroking your hand in the way he knew soothed you. “Please forgive us.”

You broke at his plea. He was a good male, they both were. But they had turned your heart to stone, turned you to someone so damaged, so unrelenting and unforgiving, someone you never wanted to be. You were a monster of their own making, and there was no undoing it. Sobs racked through your body, and it took everything you had not to crumble to the ground.

Azriel was behind you then, his shadows curling around your exposed skin, soothing you where they could. You did not fight him, not as he took your hands from Cassian, not as he too kissed your tears away while murmuring his own apologies, not even when he lifted you from under your knees, carrying you to the bathroom. You hated him, your mind screaming at you to yell and hiss and spit, to swear him from your home and from your life. But in this moment, where exhaustion and isolation loomed, you had no more fight to give.

Azriel didn’t speak as he undressed you before placing you in the tub. You were still crying as he washed you, scarred hands so attentive to your body, the sound of water sloshing and pouring over your head mixing with your laboured breaths. You kept your knees to your chest, your head turned away, but you let him scrub you clean.

He gently pulled you from the tub into a fresh towel, wrapping you in the soft cotton before lifting you again. Your apartment had come to life with a small fire Cassian had lit, low flames flickering with warmth.

Azriel moved to sit on the bed, keeping you bundled in his lap. Cassian was crouched in front of you, his hands holding a vial of stew, the steaming contents bought to your mouth on a spoon.

“Eat this,” Cassian said gently. You wanted to be stubborn, to fight them more than the pathetic amount you already had. But your stomach cramped with hunger at the scent of the stew, and you were to weak to refuse it. So you let Cassian feed you, your body growing more and more slack the fuller your stomach became. A vial of medicine was quickly tipped against your lips too, and you swallowed its contents with a small whimper.

In your exhausted haze, your hardly noticed Azriel dress you in fresh clothes, even braiding your hair before he lay you down, pulling the covers over your.

Cassian and Azriel were watching you as you fought your sleep, heavy eyes lifting to find them.

“I meant what I said.” Your voice was a mere whisper

They exchanged a look, before Cassian crouched to pull the covers closer to your chin. “We know.”

There was a beat of silence. “I want you to leave me be.”

“Not until you start taking care of yourself,” Azriel spoke, his voice soft yet strict. You didn't have any energy to fight back, to tell him he could blame himself for the spiral you had entered.

“Go,” your rasped before turning your back to them, enticed by the comfort of sleep with a full belly, clean clothes and warm apartment.

“Rest up Y/N.” Cassian’s words were a lullaby you couldn’t fight.

“We love you,” Azriel added, and the last thing you felt was the caress of cool shadows at your neck before you drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

————

Waking to sunlight, you felt notably stronger than you had in days. You knew it was because of the care Azriel and Cassian had provided, which frustrated you to your core.

Azriel’s words rung clear in your mind. They would not leave you be until you started to take care of yourself, so you would leverage the strength you had to come up with a plan.

It only took a few days for your Uncle to reply. Yes, he still had his home by the lake. Yes, you could stay with him as long as you needed. There was work to be done in Spring Court, rehabilitation and building after Hybern had depleted almost every resource from the lands, Tamlin not yet strong enough to recoup his court after the war. You could find sanction there, help others and distract yourself with work. And most importantly, distance yourself from the people you once loved.

With your next steps laid clear, you sent a letter to the River House, asking for one final favour.

————

Rhysand was waiting at the River House terrace alone as promised. Cloaked in signature black, he watched the stars dance in the night sky with a gentle grip on the railing, his back to you as you approached.

This was the same terrace that had hosted many evening drinks, jokes and conversations shared with your family, and even offered the much needed escape away from the buzz of various balls and celebrations. A twinge of pain stabbed at your heart at those memories. Today, it was just a terrace, a mere meeting point before you stepped towards your new life.

It was unsurprising Rhys had heeded your instruction to meet you alone, you knew he would do it. You wondered if he lied about his whereabouts, or if he instead warded your presence from the others. He had likely hidden your scent from Cassian and Azriel, but what about his mate?

Saying goodbye to Feyre and Rhys at the same time had felt far too painful, impossible even. While they were equals, High Lord and Lady as well as mates, they were still very different beings. Feyre was too forgiving, too caring and loving to have reached this point on her own. It needed to be Rhys, you needed to direct this at someone who could take it, someone who deserved it.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, turning now, hands sliding to his pockets. You ignored his question, stopping a few paces away. Tension hung heavy between you.

“Thank you for meeting me,” you said tightly. Rhysand didn't speak, but offered an arm to the seating behind you. You sat down silently, your last act of obedience.

“I can no longer serve the Night Court,” you said plainly.

Rhysand didn’t flinch, wise enough to have known this was coming. “That does not mean you don't have a home here,” he answered calmly, as if that logic was reason enough to stay.

You shook your head stubbornly. “Please accept my resignation.”

Rhysand sighed then, leaning forward on his elbows to level a look at you. “I’m aware, Y/N, and I accept. This formality isn’t necessary.”

You knew that, it wasn't why you were here. Rhysand waited patiently for you to continue.

“I need a favour.”

“Anything,” he responded almost instantly.

“I need you to let me leave.”

Rhysand sat back now, a small frown pulling at his brow. “The choice has always been yours.”

Shaking your head, you looked up at the High Lord. “I don't trust that wherever I go, I won't be followed.”

Rhysand raised his brows.

“After recent events, I know Azriel and Cassian won't allow me that freedom.”

Rhysand let out a quick breath before nodding once, violet eyes finding the nights horizon. “I’ll ask them to adhere to your wishes.”

“As if that is enough,” you bit back, ice laced in your tone. “Pull rank, use your power, lie or cheat or trick, I don't really care. Just make it happen, it’s the least I deserve.”

Rhysand breathed quietly as he studied you. “Consider it done,” he said finally.

Gratefulness was an instinct, but you stubbornly bit down your thanks. Instead, a moment of silence fell between you.

“Where are you going?” Rhys pried.

“Do not ask me that.”

“I care for your safety.”

“I don’t want your care.”

Rhysand audibly sighed then, one hand reaching at the distance between you, finding place on the chase. “Tell me, Y/N. Say it out loud.”

You flashed your eyes to him. He looked back at you, his expression worried, concerned, pitying. Gods you hated that look.

“There is no point,” you said coldly, struggling to hide the grit of your teeth.

“I can take it,” he said softly.

Rage coursed through you at an uncontrollable speed. “You think I'm sparing you?” You let out a cold laugh, moments away from that savage, lethal switch, your power now stinging at your fingertips.

“I think you’re far from having faced the truth.”

A snarled escaped you, and you could feel your power surge, igniting your irises with a brilliant yellow. Had you not been so blind with anger, you might have realised this was exactly what Rhysand intended.

“It’s the truth you seek then?” you began. “How about the fact that you have plagued my heart with more hate than I ever believed possible. Shall I tell you of the shame that haunts me day and night that I let myself trust you for all these years? Or that I was naive enough to think I could find another family after Meryl’s death? But it would seem the only family I have is dead, and it has in fact always been that way. You broke me Rhys, you all broke me. I was a fool to have loved you so dearly, and ignorant to believe you ever loved me in the same way.”

Hot, angry tears streamed down your face, washing away the current that glowed in your eyes. Pressing a hand against your heart, you tried to smother the ache that throbbed at your confession. “You preach of a better court, one of choice and freedom and honour. But you snatched that away the moment it was mine for the taking.”

Rhys had kept his eyes on you, his face breaking with a little more sorrow at each sentence you spoke. “You’re right,” he said. “You’re absolutely right.” He waited a moment before placing a gentle hand on your knee. “Mother above cannot convey how sorry I am Y/N.”

You shook your head, tears welling and blurring your vision. It wasn't enough, you knew that, and Rhys knew it too.

His voice was even more gentle as he leaned forward. “I love you Y/N. Well all love you.”

Your voice was small now. “Not in the way I loved you. Not in the way family should love one another.”

“I disagree,” he countered. “You have to understand, as your High Lord, I would never send you to your death knowingly.”

“I wouldn't have died in vain,” you quietly, breaking his gaze with a flicker of shame. “All I ever wanted was a chance to make things right.”

You shocked yourself with the weight of your words, the extent of your willingness to avenge Meryl was something you hadn't even admitted to yourself. You would have died with content knowing you had at least tried to kill Alvar. But Rhys had seen that in you, well before you understood it for yourself. And together your family decided instead to keep you safe.

“I was hoping your motivation no longer overthrew your will to live,” Rhys admitted. With a deep sigh he cupped your chin in a parent-like way. “Look at me.” Whether you liked it or not, your eyes found his.

“Imagine I had taken the time to let you kill Alvar and instead he escaped, and innocent Velarians were hurt because of it – would you forgive me for putting your needs above their safety?”

Your eyes welled. “How could you ask me that Rhys?”

“I’m not trying to upset you. I’m just trying to show you the weight of the decision I had to make.” He offered you a broken smile, reaching to swipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. To your own surprise, you let him.

“That is not the only issue here.” Your voice was thick, your throat strained as you contained the sob that jerked within. “You’ve asked me to see it from your perspective, now please consider mine. You collectively decided that the mission would be kept a secret. You banded together to act dishonestly, knowing it would ruin me. How can I ever trust you again? How am I supposed to see you as my family?”

Rhys closed his eyes as his brows gave a painful tug, a deep breath pushing out through his nose. A large hand rested gently on your knee, his thumb swiping in a sympathetic way.

“I’ll admit Y/N – I knew that this would hurt you, but I never thought we’d lose you entirely.”

You sniffed. “Then you underestimated me.”

Rhys’s violet eyes found yours, sincerity and admiration shining in the stars that beheld them. “I did. I absolutely did.” He took another deep breath before speaking. “I’m a fool to have underestimated your loyalty, your dedication and your bravery. Over 500 years in existence, and I should have known that was never mine to control.”

You stared back at him, and while the ache in your heart was far from cured, a small sense of calm washed over you. It was relief you desperately needed – to finally be understood. “Thank you for saying that,” you croaked.

Rhys watched you with a pained smile. “I only want good things for you Y/N, wherever you choose to be. You will always have a home here if you want it, if you can ever forgive us for what we did.”

And in those words, a new well opened in your heart, one that you had not seen coming.

Hearing Rhys acknowledge your decision to leave the Night Court was devastating, so much so that your hand instinctively pressed agains your heart again. There would be no more fighting or pleading, no more fists thrown or cries of rage and confessions of love. He would let you go, because you had asked it. It was the least you deserved, yet it hurt in an entirely new way.

Ahead of you, the path of solitude lay clear. You had fought for it without any idea how painful it would be to take that first step. You couldn't help the sob that escaped you as you dropped your head to your hands.

“I never wanted to leave,” you admitted through ragged breaths.

Rhys bought a gentle hand to your back. “Then stay.”

“I can’t! I can’t stay here. I am so angry with you, all of you! And I don't think I’ll ever be strong enough to forgive this, not fully.” Your cries were uncontrollable as you tried to quiet them with your hands.

Rhys was stroking your hair as he said ever so softly. “I know.”

You sniffed, blinking up at your High Lord. “There’s nothing left for me here.” There was a cold bite to your words, even as you let him comfort you.

“I know,” he repeated with that same softness and understanding.

You watched him for a moment longer. Here he was, everything you needed in a High Lord – a leader and a friend, saying all the right things in all the right ways. But he was flawed, like anyone, and that flaw had been your downfall.

“I will be leaving Velaris tonight. Please, don't ask for my whereabouts. I need… I need a clean break.”

Rhys brow twitched before he nodded tightly. “You have my word.”

Gathering yourself, you stood to smooth your skirts before looking up at your High Lord for the final time. “I will miss Nyx dearly.”

Pain sliced across Rhysand’s face in a way you had never seen, tears immediately pricking at his violet eyes. He swallowed, containing himself still. “I wish it could have been any other way Y/N, truly.”

“As do I.”

And that was all that could be said. You turned from him, pacing towards the exit while casting your eyes to the magnificent array of stars, searing the Velarian night sky to memory as you admired its beauty for the final time.

“You must know!” Rhys spoke out, a hint of urgency in his tone. “It was fear Y/N. It was fear of losing you, not ever a lack of love.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you nodded once, a broken smile on your lips. “I know,” you spoke, biting back the quiver in your lip. “I know that now.”

And you let those words be your last at the Court of Night.

--------

Part 3>>>>

AN: Thank you so much for your patience with this, I hope you guys like it! ❤️

YES there will be a Part 3. Update: Part 3 is out. I’m super keen to explore how things go for the Reader in Spring Court, and maybe even weave in a little bit of redemption for a certain blondey?? Besides, there are still some things that have gone unsaid between the Reader and the boys... and she needs to figure out these powers! Watch this space 👀

Comment to my tag list (either general or for Our girl) 😊

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ak4e7a · 2 months

Text

i hate valentine’s day — boyfriend!hoon x reader

It's pretty self-explanatory. But one person is determined to change your mind.

wc: 2.1k (this was supposed to be short and then i blinked and now i’m here)

cw: fluff, slight angst if you read it sideways i guess, smut, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, lots of pet names bc hoon is a loverboy end of story

author's note: WHEEWWW my first full drabble on here! i hope y'all enjoy and please please please let me know if you do <3 likes and comments and reblogs are super appreciated ♡ happy Valentine's Day!

It’s just a capitalist holiday designed to sell flowers and chocolates and give people a reason to start a fight in their already unhappy relationship. Your friends had heard you say that time and time again, year after year, and they were almost wholeheartedly convinced that you really did not enjoy a holiday centered around love.

The truth, however, was the opposite. You loved it—the pink hearts, the stuffed animals, the candy, the red roses, the romantic gestures. You were just… bitter that you’d been spending all of the past Valentine’s days with a card and a bar of your favorite chocolate that your mom would either give to you in person or mail to your apartment once you’d moved out for college.

You didn’t want to be one of those people that liked Valentine’s Day with a nonchalance about themselves and droned on and on about how it could also be interpreted as a day of “self-love”. You could do a lot of self-love with a rose toy and an hour of uninterrupted time locked in your room. But a rose toy wouldn’t be able to laugh at a rom-com with you, and you’d probably get looked at funny if you walked around the mall holding it in your hand for everyone to gawk at.

Did you hate seeing happy couples? Maybe.

Did that hate go away once you found yourself somehow in a relationship with the quiet boy from your statistics class? The boy who you, at first, thought seemed cold and uninterested in anything but the assignments? Just a little bit.

You told Sunghoon last week that he didn’t have to do anything, that he shouldn’t waste his paycheck from his part-time campus job on gifts when it wasn’t even Christmas or your birthday, and he’d already gotten you something for your 100 day anniversary a month ago, anyways. You hammered it home with the same speech that you’d given your friends since you learned what capitalism was.

And all he did was nod his head with a thoughtful, “Hmm,” and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose before you turned as red as the roses you’d hope he’d still get you anyways and went back to typing away at your laptop, allowing the white noise of the library to drown out your racing thoughts.

Now it’s the morning of the 14th, and you wake up in your bed, alone. You sigh, maybe Sunghoon had gone home already even though neither of you have a class today. Trudging to the bathroom, you brush your teeth and wash your face before returning to bed to sulk and stare at the wall.

You mentally kicked yourself, this was your fault, why did you tell your first and only boyfriend you didn’t give a shit about Valentine’s Day—a holiday primarily meant for couples? Now, if you were lucky and your relationship happens to last until next year, would the next Valentine’s Day also go uncelebrated? What about your one-year anniversary? What about—

And then your door creaks open. And you scream.

Sunghoon screams, too, almost dropping the mountain of bags he’s holding.

“Why are you screaming?” Sunghoon yells, stumbling to regain his balance as he walks towards the bed. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Because I was under the assumption that I was alone in the house!” you exclaim, although now your fear is mixed with excitement as you scan his muscled arms wrapped around all the stuff he’s carrying.

“Oh,” he says, more quiet now. “You thought I left and wouldn’t come back?”

“Yeah,” you reply sheepishly. “I thought… I thought…”

“That I wouldn’t do anything for Valentine’s Day just because you went on that long-ass tirade in the library last week?”

You frown, eyebrows knitted together. But you’re not upset at him, no, the entire reason you let yourself fall for him was because he was always so understanding. You could feel yourself falling even more because he didn’t fall for your pathetic attempt at being a “chill, low-maintenance” girlfriend. “I don’t deserve you,” you say.

Sunghoon sets the bags on the rug beside your bed and sits beside you, immediately pulling you into his embrace. “That’s not true. You put up with a loser like me.”

“Hey,” you sniffle. “You’re my loser. Which makes you not-a-loser.”

“Alright,” he chuckles. “Whatever you say.”

You like him. You like him so much. You like the way he dresses (including his glasses), you like every single different cologne he uses, you like the way his hair falls in his face, you like the way he scrunches his nose when you offer him a bite of your mint choco ice cream, you like the way he accepts the chocolate toothpaste taste because it makes you happy to share snacks with him. You like the way he switches to his wired earphones instead of his big headphones when he studies with you so you can listen to music with him when you study. You like him. You like him a lot. In fact, you—

“I love you,” you blurt out, and the wide-eyed look he gives you makes you slap your hand over your mouth in some sort of vain attempt to get the words back in where they came from.

But just like toothpaste, once it’s squeezed out of the tube, you can’t put it back in.

Unless, of course, you had a syringe or a pipette or something but that’s neither here nor there, because you just told Park Sunghoon, your former statistics partner, Park Sunghoon, the best part-time barista on campus, Park Sunghoon, your (somewhat) new boyfriend, that you love him for the first time.

And to make it extra corny, you’ve told him on Valentine’s Day, the day you’ve adamantly lied about hating.

Sunghoon finally grins, his pearly white teeth (that you also like so much) on full display. “I knew it.”

“What?”

“I knew you liked Valentine’s Day, you little liar,” he teases, playfully flicking your forehead.

“Ugh,” you groan, falling back on your pillows. “Go home for real this time if you’re going to gloat.”

Sunghoon crawls over you, his face inches away from yours. “For the record, though, I love you, too. Lies and all.”

“Sunghoon,” you whine, trying to push at his chest. “Stop embarrassing me!”

“Sorry, sorry.” As he presses apologetic kisses to your cheek, you feel something else press against your leg.

“Hoon,” you repeat. “Are you seriously hard right now?”

“Yeah, ‘cause my girlfriend just told me she loves me.”

You smile. “Really? You’re easier than I—”

He shuts you up with a kiss. Then two. Then three. Then four. Then finally it evolves into a full-on makeout session, with your hands tangled in his hair and his hips nestled between your thighs. His glasses are on your nightstand; he’d taken them off after they were getting in his way of kissing you.

“Want it,” you murmur, as if you didn’t just tease your boyfriend for being easy to turn on. “Wanna do it...”

You figure since you’ve already confessed your feelings, losing your virginity to your boyfriend who you’re definitely madly in love with is a good idea. (Spoiler: it is.)

Now he hovers over you, looking at you with hearts in his eyes. "Relax for me, okay, baby? It's gonna hurt a little bit. Just say the word and I'll stop."

"O-okay, Hoonie."

He plants a soft kiss on your forehead before taking his shaft in his hand, pumping it twice before lining it up with your entrance. "Gonna put my cock in you now, baby... oh... ah, fuck... 's better than I imagined... So tight, even after I've prepped you... You're squeezing around my tip, you okay, sweetheart?"

You nod, biting your lip as he stretches you with his thick girth. "'M okay, Hoonie, 's just big, so big..."

"You're being such a good girl for me, baby. 'M gonna push it all the way inside you now, okay? Just breathe." One of his hands skims down your body, reaching in between you two to stroke at your clit. The pleasurable friction against your nerves dulls out the pain of him breaking your hymen, but you cry out nonetheless.

"Ah! Hoonie, it hurts," you whimper, your chest heaving and nails digging into his back.

"'M sorry, baby, we can stop now if you want. I don't mind—"

"No!! No, please, just... don't move yet, please? Need t'get used to—fuck—you inside..."

"Alright, baby. I'll keep still." He kisses your cheek, petting your hair gently. Then he looks down at you, straight into your eyes. He's so beautiful, it's mesmerizing. "You're such a good girl, aren't you? So pretty and perfect for me... you're getting my cock so wet, baby. Want me to make you cum like this? Make you feel better?"

"Y-yes please!"

He leans back until his head is just above where you’re connected, and you watch his abs flex in that position. He spits on your clit, rubbing it in slow, languid circles. Softly, he asks, "you're such a sweet little girl, anything else you want, love?"

You clench around him at the pet name, your entire body flushing with warmth. "Um... can you... um..."

"Oh, I know," he smirks, his free hand moving up to toy with your nipples. "Does it feel good with my cock inside you, baby? Gonna cum while you're stuffed full of me?"

"Yes, so good, Hoonie, thank you!" You squirm a little, unintentionally grinding yourself against his dick, and the movement makes him groan.

"Fuck," he says under his breath. "You're so cute... and you're so hot, you don't even know it... that's it, pretty girl, cum whenever you want. you earned it."

"Hoonie," you keen, back arching off the bed as you orgasm around him. "can you m-move, please?"

"Yeah, baby, you like being stretched by me? Gonna let me fuck you open, sweetheart?"

"Y-yeah... y'can move now, Hoonie."

"God," he chokes out, thrusting shallowly. "You're sucking me in so good, baby." He puts a hand over your lower abdomen, pressing down. "Can you feel me right there?"

You squeal as the tip of his dick rubs firmly against your g-spot. "Y-yes! 'S big, so big, hoonie!"

“You're so tight, princess, gonna make me cum so soon already, fuck, pussy feels like heaven..."

"So... big," you gasp, staring up at him in adoration. He's so handsome.

He reaches down and tenderly cups your cheek before leaning in and kissing you softly. "Taking me like a good girl, baby... 'm I making you feel good?"

“Yes, yes,” you manage to stutter out, legs wrapping around his slender waist.

"Gonna cum... need to pull out, baby, can I cum—fuck! Can I cum on you, baby, please?"

"Yes! Yesyesyes! Cum on me, Hoonie, wanna feel it!"

"Where... where do you want my cum, princess?" he pants, sliding his cock out of you and stroking himself.

"Cum on my pussy, Hoonie!"

He groans, and the two of you look down and watch as he cums right over your core, the milky essence dripping down onto the bed. Despite the mess, he immediately lies down beside you, pulling you into his arms like you’re about to go back to sleep.

You feel good. Maybe better than good. Definitely better than good. You can hear his heartbeat when you rest your head on his chest.

“Aw, fuck,” Sunghoon mutters into the crown of your head. “I think the ice in your drink melted.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I went out to get your gifts from my apartment, and I got you an iced matcha from that one place you like on the way back.”

“I’ll drink it anyways… but you didn’t have to get me any gifts,” you mumble, still trying to stay true to your lie, even though Sunghoon has already seen right through it. But you definitely mean the next sentence. “Just spending the day with you is enough for me.”

“I know, I know. But I wanted to. I never want you to feel like I only do things for you because you ask me to. I want you to know that I do them because I love you.”

Okay. Maybe you really did hate Valentine’s Day before.

But not anymore. You feel good. You feel great. You’re loved, and you’re in love.

You look up at him and he kisses you on the forehead before you repeat, “I love you, too.”

#sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours #enha smut #🀄️drabbles #sunghoon x reader

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coffeeshopguest · 3 days

Note

please i need stardew valley bachelors in a kinky gangbang with gender neutral or female farmer!

I loved this suggestion but please have mercy, I didn't know which ones you wanted so I did all 6 which was VERY difficult for me to incorporate so I made it sort of cheap in the end to save having to write a whole night of sex with them all 😭 pls enjoy! I'm sorry if it's a little shitty, I've never written or read group sex stuff 😭

The Bachelor's and the Farmer's Night

Word Count: 1569

Pairing: F!Reader x Sebastian, Harvey, Sam, Alex, Shane & Elliott

Warning: 18+, group sex, rope kink, handcuffs, swearing, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, anal mention, oral mention, cum swallowing, light bdsm (choking, spanking), all of it is pretty vague and quickly mentioned except the fingering & vaginal sex

It was Sam's idea. Not that he was gonna openly parade that around to anyone at first. It started as a pathetic fantasy that he would get off on at night, thin walls making him cover his own mouth as he imagined the farmer laying on a bed, tied down, taking it from him and Sebastian over and over. He was ashamed to even incorporate his friend in a fantasy, but the idea of a threesome with the farmer and Sebastian was just...so fucking hot. The idea of watching her get fucked, then fucking her - Sam was a simple man and he nearly came on the spot every single time he imagined it.

What's worse? He began incorporating the idea of Alex in the mix. He was friendly with Alex - and Sam had seen the farmer interacting with Alex a lot recently. Even throwing around a football with him the other day. Sam didn't immediately think anything of it, until he woke up sweating and hard, having dreamt the farmer and Alex going at it while Sam jacked off and waited for his turn patiently. Slowly, Sam began to think about...what if more people got involved? And oh, god. He finally let it slip to Sebastian.

"What do you think of that new farmer?" Sam asked as he took a shot for one of the striped balls on the pool table. His voice was even, but his heart was racing a pathetic amount.

Sebastian leaned on his stick, watching Sam's shot. "She's cute," Sebastian answered. The two made slow eye contact and Sam debated just leaving the whole conversation at that. But something about the way Sebastian stared him down made him crack.

"Yeah, yeah, she is...uh- you like her?"

Sebastian took a swig of his drink, nodded a little. "Sure," he said, "why?"

"How...how do you like her?" Sam gently rested his stick down on the wall, watching his friend. "Like," he began, "sexually...or...?"

Eyes widening a little, Sebastian tilted his head. "I- we don't usually talk about that kinda stuff," he dismissed, turning his attention to the pool table and ignoring Sam for a moment.

Sam nodded slightly, before he finally whispered, "I know but I want to...uh..." he glanced around the Saloon to see if anyone was looking towards them. No one was. "I kinda want to...have...some group sex with them."

Sebastian took a shot, perhaps out of shock, the cue ball launched across the table and sunk a striped ball. He stared down at the table. Quiet. "Just us three or?"

"Uhm...I was thinking maybe Alex..."

Sebastian raised his head up, hair falling over his left eye. "The farmer? Did you talk to her?"

Sam shook his head and Sebastian slowly turned to the table where he'd set his drink aside, grabbing it and gently taking a sip. "Ask her. Tell me when you do."

"You...you're in?"

Sebastian gave a short nod, and the two acted as though the conversation never even happened.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

When presented with the idea, albeit from a terrified Sam, you agreed immediately. With a condition. You wanted Sam to invite Elliott, Shane, and Harvey. His eyes widened.

"Six....you want six guys-" you nodded. Sam had to awkwardly adjust his pants, at the mere suggestion of that many guys fucking you he got hard. Just the idea of watching it was too much for him. "I- I'll see what they say."

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

To Sam's shock, every single person agreed. He was expecting a sharp no from Shane, but he said yes without a second thought. Harvey stuttered out a "Oh...holy shit...uh- at the farm-?" and blushed madly. Elliott tried to maintain some sort of dignity but by the immediate bulge in his pants Sam guessed his answer before Elliott could recover words and agree. Alex tried to act disgusted at first. But then he mumbled a "can I bring handcuffs and rope?" (Sam asked "dude you live with your grandparents in a small town, why do you even have those?" and was met with a glare).

So it was arranged, a day and time was set. The six made their way down to the farm, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Sam was hard basically half the day before this, eagerly awaiting the nighttime - when his fantasy would become reality. The farmer answered the door, smiling softly at the six men. "Boys, come on in," she smiled. Sam nearly choked, they were wearing a flannel, opened up, only a bra underneath. Fuck. Fucking christ. She was good at this.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Upon being brought to the bedroom, Sam gently guided you to lay down, Harvey quickly mumbled "she needs a safe word-" and the rest agreed. Turning their attention to you. Six flushed, eager faces. You felt like prey laying in the bed, flannel opened to expose your bra. A safe word definitely was needed. As much as you wanted to take all six repeatedly you weren't entirely sure how much you could take before you were too used.

"Red light," you murmured out. "Yellow light means give me a break, but I want to keep going."

And so it began. Sam quickly ripped off the flannel and tossed it aside, then tore the bra off and threw it aside, his hands wandered to your jeans, slowly unzipping them. Your panties exposed, he gently moved his hand down, rubbing softly against the wet spot. You bit your lip, about to moan. Quickly, Sam backed up, Sebastian took one side of the bed and Alex the other. Hands launched to your chest, as Sam gently finished pulling off your pants. A hand on each breast, gently running your ripples through their fingers, you began moaning out loud. Sam got off the bed.

"Who wants to go first?" he asked, Elliott stepped forward. He gently undid his pants, erection springing out. He gently lined up.

You bit your lip, before he backed away, "did...anyone bring lube?" Elliott's voice gently asked. It was Harvey who had, gently digging it out of his jacket pocket and handing it over. Elliott gently poured some into his hand, gliding it across your pussy causing you to moan out. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Sam, eagerly jacking off as he watched. Sebastian was still by your side, but his hands had left your body. Elliott gently shoved a finger in. "I'll start slow, you're about to have a hell of a night," he said reassuringly.

You looked up into his eyes, nodding softly. He smiled, gently leaning down, placing a kiss on your forehead, before be pulled his finger out. "Did that hurt at all?" you shook your head, and he gently shoved two fingers in, letting your body adjust to the feeling, he slowly began pumping them in and out of you. All eyes were on you and you whimpered softly, meeting eyes with Shane who was still fully dressed.

"Sha- shane-" you mumbled, gasping as Elliott's fingers expertly worked you. "Can- you- strip?"

A hand gently laced around your neck, "use manners, baby, what do we say?" it was Sebastian's hand, tight grip but just light enough not to hurt. Elliott's fingers effortlessly kept time.

"Please?" you whimpered, the hand left your neck and Shane slowly began to undo his belt. As soon as he was stripped, Elliott's hands left you, for only a second you had a miserable feeling of emptiness before Shane swapped with Elliott.

He postioned himself, hands gently gripping your hips as he found where to line up. "Ready?" you nodded, and with one swift thrust he was in you. Lips found your neck, Shane was focused on fucking you. It was Harvey who had knelt beside you, hand gently gliding down your body to your tit's. Lips on your neck, sucking and leaving a hickey.

Shane grunted, speeding up more. "Fuck- tight...gonna-"

"Not in her," Sam whimpered, you had forgotten Sam was still here, in the corner of the events jacking off. "We can't all...not in her."

To describe the events would be tiring and long and endless. They took turns, spilling themselves over your naked body, in your ass, in your mouth. Alex was partial to rough sex, Sam into watching, Harvey wanted to pleasure you however you asked, Shane was focused solely on his own quick finish, Sebastian wanted to tie you down with Alex's ropes when he fucked you and choke you out, Elliott was gentle and soft and sweet and placed kisses on your forehead as you took their dicks over and over and over.

In the end, the sun rose when you guys finally ended the session. You had given several sessions of head. Taken fingers, fists, and dicks. Been tied down, choked, spanked, had your hair pulled. And each of them had asked for something the others hadn't. Sam begged to finish by jacking off onto your naked body. Sebastian wanted your lips wrapped around his cock when he finished. Alex, he was the one who dug out a condom so he could feel your pussy tighten around him as he came inside you.

When the session ended, you simply told all of them. "We're doing this again."

#stardew valley x reader #sdv smut #sdv sebastian #sdv shane #sdv harvey #sdv elliott #sdv sam #sdv alex #sdv x reader #farmer x sebastian #farmer x shane #farmer x harvey #farmer x sam #farmer x alex #farmer x elliott #stardew valley smut #female farmer #x female reader

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megamindsecretlair · 8 months

Text

Run it Back

Pairing: Tyrone x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, Daddy kink, pet names. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (male receiving), cum play, possession kink, size kink, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Degradation/Praise kink.

Summary: You forgot to check in with Tyrone and he calls while you're at the club. You rush home to apologize properly.

Word Count: 2,603k

A/N: Oh look, I'm zooted and feral again. This was so hot. I had a lot of fun writing it! Thank you all so much for all of your support and for reading! Goodness, how did this taglist get so big? ILY FRFR. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @wakandas-vibranium @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody

You dug your phone out of your purse as you danced to the music in the club. You were too turned up and had been having a blast with your friends, turning away guys but accepting the free drinks. Tyrone’s name flashed on your phone and you stopped dancing.

Your friend noticed and elbowed you to get your attention. You waved her off. Your stomach turned sour. Maybe you shouldn’t have had that third drink. Or was it the fourth?

“Hey, baby,” you said.

“The hell you at?” Tyrone’s voice was like a punch through the phone. He was mad. Scratch that. He was furious with you.

“Um, I’m a little busy,” you said. You knew he could hear the thumping music. There was no need to tell him where.

“You know what time it is?” He asked.

You looked at the screen on your phone. Shit! You were way, way past the time you told him you’d be home. You didn’t even text him to say you were staying longer. He loved that you were independent but it killed him when you were reckless with your safety.

“Baby, I’m sorry. We started dancing and they played all of my songs. You know like–”

“If you’re not here in ten minutes, I’m comin’ for that ass,” he snapped.

“Wait, I’m farther than that,” you said. Mentally, you thought about the route to your place with Tyrone. Even if you broke all of the traffic laws on your way over, there was no way to make it in ten minutes. The dread in your stomach gave way to hefty need. Your core ached and the hairs on the back of your neck raised.

“Nine minutes,” he said.

He hung up the phone and you got up. You didn’t say goodbye to your friends or stop long enough to breathe. You rushed out of the club and raced to your car. Your heart thumped in your chest and your hands shook.

You pulled out of your space and pulled into late LA traffic. They said New York was the City that Never Sleeps. So LA must be the City that Never Learns to Fuckin’ Drive. A car honked at you as if you were the problem. If a muthafucka ain’t got their headlights on, how the fuck you supposed to see them?

You made it home, barely legally. There were too many close turns and random cars enough to spook you. You thought you were going to get into an accident. But the closer you made it to Crenshaw, the more the traffic died down. Hood people knew when to take they asses home.

You straightened out your outfit as you got to the door. His car was still in the driveway. You wondered if he really would have come to the club and scooped you up. You didn’t need that embarrassment.

You got inside and listened out for where Tyrone may be. The living room and kitchen beyond were dark. You didn’t see a light upstairs either. Surely, he would have waited until you were inside, right?

A light popped on to your left and you jumped. Fear mixed with desire until you shook a bit. Tyrone sat in his favorite chair in the living room. A recliner that you both picked out. But more so him. He kept eyeing it and you knew that he never treated himself. His mind was always on the hustle and more money. You were trying to buff that rough edge of him. It wasn’t easy, but baby steps.

His hand was on his knee while the other propped up his head. The light had a thin shade so it covered a good portion of him. The other side was cast in shadow, giving him an eerie look.

You bit your lip and fought off shivers. If you thought you were needy before, you were downright feral as you looked at your man. Sometimes, you simply watched him. Watched the way he moved. The slow way he walked, his big hands, his wide smile, and his fine lips. His hair needed a little touching up. You made a mental note to do that for him tomorrow.

“Hey baby,” you said.

“Don’t ‘hey baby’ me. The fuck you doing out this late?” He asked.

“I didn’t look at the time!” You said.

“That’s not good enough. You think I like yelling at you?” He asked. He wasn’t really yelling. He never truly yelled. His voice went up in volume, that was about it. Tyrone held his anger inside. As if he were fueling his own angry battery.

“No! I’m sorry! I’ll do better,” you said.

“What you say?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you said. That didn’t seem to appease him. He stared at you. He was still as a statue. Then his tongue darted out to lick his lips.

“Bust me this nut and maybe I’ll believe you,” he said. He crooked his fingers at you.

You took off your jacket and threw it onto the sofa next to you. You tossed your purse on top. You had chosen to wear a dress and you were so happy you did. You kept your heels on and slowly got to your knees.

You crawled across carpet. It was a short distance to his knees. He spread them as you got closer. You kept your eyes trained on him but in your peripheral, you saw his sweats tent up.

You stopped and knelt in front of him. You rubbed his knees as he looked down at you. “Get it nice and wet for me,” he said.

You leaned up further and started to untie his sweats. You could feel your arousal soaking your panties already. Your inner thighs tingled. You freed him and his dick twitched. You stroked him, always marveling at how it was both soft and hard.

Precum leaked on the tip and you ran your tongue over it. You were not supposed to be attracted to dicks. They were gross. And men hardly took care of themselves as it is. But Tyrone at least cared about hygiene. His hairs tickled your nose as you sucked him in.

Tyrone groaned and threw his head back. He settled further into the chair. You grabbed his meaty thighs and took in as much of him as you could. Your loud and filthy slurping noises filled the room. Tyrone moaned and it only turned you on more. You were doing this to him. And he was loving it.

His hands dug into your hair and gripped your head. He pulled you down further on his dick and you gagged a bit on him. You tapped his thigh twice. He let up some so that you could finally breathe. You tapped him once to let him know that you were okay now.

He continued to fuck your mouth. He once told you that he didn’t know which he loved more: filling your mouth with dick or sliding into the wet, hot heat of your cunt. Watching your eyes tear up or watching his dick disappear inside you. There were so many good options.

“Fuck, this mouth is good for somethin’,” he said.

Your pussy fluttered at the backhanded compliment. He was such an ass. A cocky muthafucka that ain’t never been told no twice. But fuck he was delicious. The line of his neck was visible since his head was thrown back. His eyes were closed and his mouth was slack.

You swirled your tongue around his slit while your hands worked him up and down. He twitched at the added sensation. There was enough of your spit to slide between your fingers and coat him while he drove into your mouth.

“Naw, I wanna cum in my pussy,” he said. He stood up abruptly and picked you up under your arms. You squealed. He knows you hated being picked up like that. You were a chunky girl your whole life. You wanted to quit it, but it didn’t want to quit you. You loved your body. You’d much rather have your gorgeous ass than be stick thin. Every blue moon, your insecurities flared up. You didn’t want him to strain something trying to lift you.

He’d only tell you to mind yo’ damn business. While he proceeded to pick you up any time he wanted. Especially in the bedroom. He made it his personal mission to toss you around as much as he could.

He dropped you onto his recliner. Your hands and knees dug unto the leather. It faintly smelled like him. Clean, earthy. Tyrone bunched up your dress in one hand. He leaned down and grabbed your ass cheeks. He wiggled them a bit and then gave it a light smack. Your pussy clenched and you moaned a little bit.

“You know Daddy worries about you, right?” He asked. He ripped your panties and slid inside of you in one powerful thrust and your head dropped to the chair. Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. He stretched you out. You were ready for him but fuck, that sweet middle between pleasure and pain had you in a vise grip.

You nodded to answer his questions. “I’m sorry Daddy,” you said.

He smacked your ass, hard. You flinched and cried out. “I don’t believe you,” he said. He smacked your ass again and you nearly jumped off of the couch.

You started to beg him to forgive you. It truly had been a mistake. “You did this shit on purpose, didn’t you?” He didn’t let you answer. He smacked your ass again and kept smacking you. Your ass was on fire. The wind from his hand was starting to hurt you more than the slap did.

You relaxed and sagged against him. Once you were relaxed, he started to move again. He slammed into you hard and the momentum drove you into the chair. You felt every inch of him. The veins on his dick tickled the walls of your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so deep,” you said. It was like the tip of his cock pressed up against your soul. He touched that deep, aching core of you. He hit it just right and continued to hit it. Your ass slapped against his thighs.

You didn’t know if your moans were louder or if his were. His thumbs dug into the top of your ass and you keened.

“Yeah, that’s it. Show me how sorry you are,” he said. “Let me hear it, mama.”

You gave him every sound you were capable of producing. Every moan and sigh. When he hit it how you liked, you made all kinds of incoherent sounds. Your body would jerk and twitch. He liked when you could barely shriek because he felt so good.

Your hand reached down to rub your clit. You were so close. You just needed something else. Tyrone’s hand came out of nowhere to slap your ass. “Shit!” You yelled.

Tyrone sucked his teeth and hit you again. “Move yo fuckin’ hand. Don’t touch my shit,” he said. He grabbed your wayward hand and brought it up behind your back. He bunched up your dress again and held it and your hand against your back.

He pushed into you more until your ass was the only thing in the air. He somehow slid deeper and you cried out. Your orgasm whipped through you, dragging you under and higher and inside out. Your eyes were clenched shut as you rode wave after wave.

Tyrone continued to chase his own orgasm. Your walls squeezed him and he twitched. He unloaded inside of you. He filled you up still. His hot cum pulsing inside of you. You felt a bit of him leak out and you groaned at the sensation. He stroked another few times before finally stopping and panting.

Your erratic breaths matched his and you both tried to come down. Tyrone pulled out and you both groaned at the sensation. He spread your ass cheeks so that he could watch himself leak out of you.

Your ass was still cresting the edge of pain. His fingers dug into it, making the pain flare in random bursts. You were so fucked out. You would have agreed to a twenty-four seven bodyguard if it meant that you never had to leave this headspace.

“You got the prettiest fuckin’ pussy,” he growled. He brought his hand up to rub along your clit and pussy. He pushed a finger inside of you and you moaned.

“Turn over,” he said.

He helped you get off of the recliner and then position yourself on your back. He gripped your thighs and pulled you to the edge. He bent down and entered you once more. “Can’t get enough of this shit, huh? You need more don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy, fuck,” you moaned. You peeked over your boobs to watch some of him slip inside you. When he pulled out, he was coated into your juices. Glistening in the low light with it. Then he’d slide back into you and you threw your head back.

He had your hands pinned to the armrests and your knees crooked on either side of his arms. You couldn’t touch him. And more importantly, you couldn’t touch yourself.

“You owe me a few more,” he said. He pounded inside of you. You jerked from his powerful thrusts. Sweat gathered on his forehead. He leaned down and gave you a bruising kiss. His lips were warm and inviting. He pulled away before you could really enjoy it.

“Good girls get kisses. Yo ass been bad as fuck tonight,” he said.

That only made you wetter. He noticed and moaned. He leaned forward putting all of his weight on you. You were almost folded in half. You choked on the lack of adequate air but he was pounding into you and you just had to take it.

You had to take his thick cock however he wanted to give it to you. “Daddy, please,” you begged. You sniffled as your arousal built higher and higher. You tensed for half a second. That second seemed to stretch as you balanced on the precipice. Like a drop of water on the faucet after you turn off the water. You knew it was going to fall, it was only a matter of when.

You came with a loud scream, moaning in his ear. “Tyrone!” You yelled. He bit your neck, your shoulder, and licked away the sting. He kissed the sensitive spot below your ear.

He came right after you. It was like you were in sync. Hot jets of cum filled you up once more. You were truly a soaked mess right now. His cum slipped out of your pussy and dribbled onto your ass cheeks. The sensation was slow and tickled a bit.

He rubbed your sides and your thighs as you both calmed down. He nuzzled your neck. He kissed your cheek.

“I ain’t even half done with you yet,” he said.

You shook your head back and forth. “I can’t, Daddy,” you whined. You didn’t have the strength for another one. He lightly tapped the side of your face until you opened your eyes and looked at him.

“Naw, you can give me some more,” he said. He leaned down and bit your ear. You shuddered and clenched around him. “Be a good girl for me and take this dick.”

You nodded. Well, when he put it that way…

He pulled out of you. Then he went back in slowly. It was going to be a long night.

&&&

A/N: If you enjoyed this, there's more here: The Secret Tyrone Files

#megaminds secret files #The Secret Tyrone Files #They Cloned Tyrone smut #They Cloned Tyrone fanfic #They Cloned Tyrone fan fic #They cloned Tyrone fanfiction #Tyrone x Black!reader #Tyone x Black reader #Tyrone x Fem!reader #Tyrone x Fem reader #Tyrone x plus size reader #Tyrone smut

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mariclerc · 9 days

Text

Predestined (pt.2) | cl16

Summary: Where you have had mixed feelings for years with your brother's best friend... And finally those feelings see the light.

Warning: some swearing, aggressive mother, mentions of physical assault towards y/n (not Charles), fluff as usual and Charles being a sweetheart like always.

a/n: here we have part 2!! Let me know if you like it and if you want another part of this!!

Part 1

ynusername

liked by lilymhe, yourbff, landonorris and others.

ynusername pookie and i against the world 4eva and eva!!🧸🎀✨ and yupp, i like to put cute pink bows on his clothes it makes him look so adorable 🥺🎀

tagged charles_leclerc

see 53.765 comments

user1 hm... THE SECOND PIC 👀🫣 girl can you explain??!?

georgerussell63 I never thought I would see Charles' pen*s with a pink bow on Instagram, but here we are

ynusername In fact 😀☝🏻 It's not his pen*s, it's his pants with a cute pink bow 😋 I think carmenmmundt should try that on you tbh, just saying 👀👀

carmenmmundt omw 🫡

yourbff a cat mug i see there

ynusername i love cats and i'm now a cat mama, you know the drill

yourbff I'm sorry... A cat mom you said!?!?!?!? 👀

ynusername surprise‼️‼️✨✨✨

lucayln stop being so horny with my best friend, thank you

ynusername nope 😋 we're here to stay horny 24/7 sir

charles_leclerc only if we could stay horny 24/7 hours a day 😩 that would be a blast

user2 CHARLES????? 🫣👀👀👀

user3 Charles has bde?

ynusername maybe 😋🥰

charles_leclerc i love you pookie 🥰💗 that pink bow looked good the whole day in my pants 🎀

ynusername i love you too much much kisses for my boy😘 💋💋 you looked so coquette and cute babyyy 🥺🎀💗

ynusername I TOLD YOU‼️‼️ georgerussell63

charles_leclerc

liked by lorenzotl, olliebearman, alex_albon and others.

charles_leclerc my little girl always wants hugs on my lap 'cause she says it feels warm there🤍 by the way, let's welcome minnie leclerc to the family 🐈🫶🏻

tagged ynusername

see 864.243 comments

landonorris congrats bro 🫂

charles_leclerc thanks bro 🤝🏻 I appreciate it

user4 omg they're so cute and adorable 🥺🥺

user5 they scream old money/cuteness couple and I'm here for it🥺😭

lucayln excuse me? That second pic it's not appropriate‼️‼️

ynusername it's just my back dumbass 🙄😒 how annoying you are

charles_leclerc why not? She so looks cute reading 🥰🥰

lucayln and why "minnie leclerc", you guys are not married.

ynusername shh 🤫😉

user1 he's so lovey dovey with yn 🥺🥺 we love to see a happy Charles 🫶🏻

user6 oh good minnie leclerc 🥺🥺 that's so sweet and adorable

arthur_leclerc I thought you were more of a dog person... 🤔

charles_leclerc yeah... people change bro

ynusername i'm the changee 😋😋😋

maxverstappen1 so Jimmy and Sassy now have a little playmate

ynusername yup sir

ynusername so... you say i'm your little girl? 🥺🥺🎀

charles_leclerc yes baby, you are my little girl... such a princess, so pretty 🥹🥹 it's the two of us against everyone, kay? 💗💗

“A cat? Did you seriously adopted a cat?” Your mother asked when she saw you with little minnie in your arms.

You nodded and smiled. “Yep! Well, Charles and I thought about moving together to his place and taking care of...” You didn't even finish talking because your mother slammed the table, making you flinch.

“It's incredible that you are so childish... Moving in together? Please, you are just studying in uni and he is traveling around the world, that shit only happens in fairy tales and movies y/n.” your mother said in a sarcastic voice.

Things with Charles are going very well, quite well, you have been together for almost four months and everything has been wonderful, the distance has not been an impediment for you... Although your mother, who at first were very happy for the two of you, lately she don't agree with the idea of you moving in with Charles, the trust between the two of you is already there for years and it's silly that she don't like their relationship now just because he constantly travels to the races.

“But mom... I love him very much and he loves me! I don't understand what the problem is with us moving in together.” You whispered while petting minnie and that apparently made her even angrier.

“You are very innocent and stupid! Do you really think he's not going to get someone better than you? Please, if you don't even have experience in couples or dating stuff.” she said and you felt your heart break little by little. “You're not even pretty enough to be with someone like him, please, there are more prettier girls out there than you.”

Your mother has always had a facade in front of everyone, that facade of "I have the perfect family", but not everything is like that. Luca is applauded and glorified for having decided to be a driver, while she humiliate you because you didn't want to study economics, that never really caught your attention, so you decided to study literature and appreciate life from a more poetic point of view if you could say that. For your mother you were always the black sheep of the family, the disappointment and the dreamy girl, always imagining impossible things.

“I'm not... I'm not stupid.” you whispered timidly. “I... I don't understand... I just...” You whispered again, feeling like you were losing your voice in the process.

“And there you are again, babbling, like a baby” She said approaching you as if you were a prey. “And what will you do? Call your prince charming to save you? You know that's a bullshit.”

And sooner than expected, a punch hit your face, and then another and another, minnie began to meow and climb your leg while you did your best to stay upright. You had never seen your mother be so aggressive with you, never, she only hit you a few times but when you were younger and you didn't want to do chores, but this? It was already another level, it was like she was letting out all the frustration she feels with you. And the worst thing about it? It's just that not even your father or Luca were at home to defend you from her.

You tried to talk while you whimper. “Please... stop hurting me.” you begged, but she didn't stop, so with the little strength and endurance you had left you let go. “Stop fucking hurting me, I'm not your damned personal punch bag!” You screamed at her with the guts you never thought you had inside of you and then you ran with minnie in your arms to your bedroom and locked the door.

That was the straw that broke the camel's back, with blurred vision you collected some essential things in a bag, the decision was made, you were going to move in with Charles whether she likes it or not. With trembling hands you took your cell phone and you dialed Charles's number.

“Babe? Is everything okay?” he spoke on the other line and a sob left your lips. “Honey, why are you crying?”

“Bubba, could you... Could you... Could you look for me and minnie at home, please? I do not want to be here.” you said in a small whisper.

“It's okay honey, did something happen with your mom?” he said in a calm voice. “I'll put you on speakerphone, I'm with Luca, okay?”

You sigh. “Mom... she almost... hit.” you said with a broken voice and that was enough for them to understand.

“Don't worry bubbles, we're on our way. I'll deal with her.” You heard Luca say as he took Charles' cell phone.

You hung up and sighed, you didn't want to look in the mirror, you probably had something broken in your face, or a broken bone in your nose, a bleeding nose or something like that. You also collected minnie's things and some of your plushies, you were still a young woman with a little girl's soul.

***

The ride to Charles's —now your, apartment was a bit difficult, after the encounter between your mother and Luca, he yelled at her while she pretended to be innocent, she had never been like that to you. While Luca confronted your mother, Charles helped you collect more of your things and put them in suitcases, there were also some things left but they were not so necessary.

When you went up the elevator to the apartment you felt a sensation of perhaps peace and calm... You don't know how to decipher it exactly, but it's like a kind of release and maybe a new beginning.

“Welcome home princess.” Charles said with his soft voice opening the door to the apartment, it was a fairly spacious and minimalist place, you didn't remember it like that since a year ago you and Luca spent a lot of time here in the afternoons doing anything silly the three of you, like the old times.

It had windows that illuminated the space, a lot of F1 memorabilia, trophies and family photos and of the three of you as children. It felt cozy, maybe it was the sunlight coming through the window, the presence of minnie nestled in your arms, or the presence of Charles himself, but it felt like a cozy and comfy space where you will not be judged. You left Minnie on the floor and she began to walk around the place with big eyes.

“Charles... I do not know how...” you said between babbling and he just smiled softly.

“You don't have to thank me or anything chérie. It is the least I can do for you.” he kissed the tip of your nose softly. “What do you think we go to heal that ugly bump, you can change into comfy clothes and then we take care of unpacking, okay?” He asked and you nodded, he guided you through the apartment until you both reached the room, which will be your room.

He started looking for some things to heal the wounds left by your mother's punches, you sat on the bed and he began to heal your wounds with some alcohol and ointments, he healed your wounds with such care and delicacy.

“Ouch... By chance do I have a broken nose or something like that?” you asked.

He denied several times. “Nope darling, just a couple of hits that now turn a little bit purple... But it will heal soon love, don't worry.” He whispered and looked for a band-aid to put on the bumps. “For now we will put this nice and cute pink band-aid on and that is enough!” He whispered again and gave you a kiss on the nose.

“Thank you Charlie” you whispered shyly and he smiled softly.

“It's nothing honey, now why don't you get comfortable and take a shower?” He said softly as he gave you a hug and caressed your back.

“Okay babe.” you say softly and separate yourself from his embrace to go to the bathroom and take a shower... which is necessary after all that emotional and physical exhaustion on the part of your mother.

When you entered the bathroom you let everything flow; the emotions, the frustration and also the peace that not being there again gives you... Now being with Charles in his apartment was a change that was going to happen sooner or later for whatever reasons, what happened with your mother today was the time bomb that was needed to explode to finally make that decision.

***

“Hey, there you are, sweet candy!” Charles said with a soft voice and a smile on his face when he saw you enter the living room in sweatpants and one of his big t-shirts, apparently he had already arranged Minnie's things in the living room... To be honest it looked like a small playground with all the cat toys and cat trees scattered around, but you didn't care at all, it gave the place some personality. “I made you some tea! Maybe it will help you calm down, It's a red fruit tea, it's delicious!” He said and you couldn't help but let out a shy giggle as you blushed a little, he had these little gestures towards you that made your heart bigger little by little.

You smiled a little. “Have you already tried it charlie bear?” you asked while giggling.

“Well... Yes, I made some for myself too! It's very good, and I don't know, it reminded me of you.” he giggled. “Remember that time we went to the cat cafe and you found out they had tea?”

You nodded with a smile. “Yeah... That's where we tried this tea and we discovered that we wanted a cat.” You took a small sip trying not to burn yourself and you felt the heat of the liquid expand inside your body. “The difference is that the one in that cafe was not that hot.” you said looking at him with a serious face and he muttered a "sorry ma chérie" while smiling (my darling). “And the other thing is that... That tea might have had a little cat hair, but we'll ignore that.” You said and he laughed, you also laughed along with him as Minnie approached you to climb onto your lap.

Both of you continued sipping your teas while talking about anything, with Charles you could talk about any topic at all and you were never going to get bored, there was always something interesting to talk about. Suddenly he cleared his throat, assuming that here comes the important question of the day.

“Honey bear... What happened with your mother today?” he asked in a sweet voice.

You sighed heavily. “Well... She just asked me if we had actually adopted Minnie and then I told her that we wanted to move in together and well... She exploded, I guess, maybe she had a lot of anger built up towards me and well, it was her time to explode.” you said ironically. “But hey, I guess that's life after all, right?” You whispered and shrugged.

He remained silent listening to you until he then spoke. “Oh honey... She shouldn't have reacted that way and, if you look at it, it was a harmless thing, you were just making a comment.” He whispered as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face and brought you closer to his body.

“I know but... She just got angry and well, she had never hit me before.” You whispered against his chest. “And she also said things about... About us.”

He frowned worriedly. “What kind of things did she say amore?” he asked.

“Well, she said... She said I'm not pretty enough to be with you.” You paused briefly. “And that you wouldn't hesitate to get someone else and... She made me feel really bad about myself, you know?” you whispered and he held you even closer.

He snapped his tongue. “You do know she's wrong, right?” He asked and you nodded. “Perfect then... Because I want you to know that you are the most beautiful girl, okay? It doesn't matter if I repeat it to you every day or how many times, I just want you to know it.” He said and gave you a kiss on the cheek, then one on the tip of your nose, then another on your jaw and so on.

You gave a small giggle. “Charlie stop” you giggled again. “your stubble gives me tickles!” You say, breathless from laughing so much. “Okay no problem. I don't mind you telling me I'm pretty all the time, I actually appreciate it.”

He smiled when he heard your words and gave you several kisses on your lips, you felt your heart flutter at his sweet and cute action towards you, you let out a few giggles. You two smiled in the middle of the kiss, it was something so genuine and precious that it was practically impossible to describe. Minnie meowed into your lap and you moved a little away from Charles with a smile on your face.

“Apparently someone wants some attention.” you said smiling and he giggled. “I think we should share our love, don't you think?” you said giggling and he nodded.

“But of course, the little one in the house requires a lot of attention.” He said teasing you a little bit.

You acted offended. “I thought I was the little one in the house!” You put a hand on your chest. “I'm just kidding love, obviously Minnie is the little one here.”

He nodded as he stroked Minnie's fur. “You both are, you are my princesses.” He said and placed a kiss on your cheek, making you blush.

Maybe not everything is perfect or rosy all the time, maybe the problems with your mother will not be solved overnight, but with him and minnie, in some way, it's enough for you and it's going to be okay in the long run.

ynusername posted a story

caption 1: I think they found the perfect place to lay their head 🤷🏻‍♀️

caption 2: my safe and comfy place is with them around ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

tagged charles_leclerc

lucayln I finally have signs of life from you!!

ynusername Dumbass, I wrote you a message yesterday and you left me on read‼️‼️

lucayln i'm just joking bubbles! I'm glad you're okay and safe

yourbff When can I meet my niece? 🥺

ynusername come whenever you want to visit us <3 our apartment is always open 🫶🏻🫶🏻

yourbff wdym "our"⁉️⁉️⁉️

ynusername hehe 😋😋☝🏻

charles_leclerc i love you babes, you make me so so happy and fluffy inside 🥺🥺💗

ynusername oh my babyyyyyy 🥺🥺🥺, you make me happy too, thank you so much for giving me your unconditionally love 💗💗 and minnie says she loves you too (she said "meow" but you get it)

charles_leclerc i get it baby, don't worry 😋 you're the cutest girl ever 💗💗🥺

#formula one x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc soft #charles leclerc x reader #charles x reader #charles leclerc #charles x you #charles x shy reader #mariclerc fics

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staarri · 19 days

Text

𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨 — 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡.

c. scaramouche

character(s) are friends with reader, gn!reader, angsty-ish, scaramouche is still in the fatui, this is a work of fiction

fluff , love letter . word count : roughly 0.9k

t. @aventurne @tragedy-of-commons @yvnaology @nyoomiin

Scaramouche is not an easy man to love. He’s busy, constantly busy, awake even during the most ungodly hours of the night and constantly rubbing at his eyes from his exhaustion. It’s no surprise the Fatui are overworking him again. What’s funny is that he’s sitting at his desk, a pile of papers on the right side–all reports from his underlings–were unnoticed; all of it, even the chirping of the birds as the sun rose and showed the start of a new day, Scaramouche was stuck on a piece of paper in front of him with the words that reads, To my dearest.

There's no way he can capture your beauty on a cheap piece of parchment . He should’ve bought something expensive instead, like a new set of clothes he thinks you’ll like. But lately you’ve just seemed so distant. He needs to reach you somehow. You’ve been driven away by the lies his mouth spills and now, he’s suffering with the consequences, and not once will he ever say it to you, but he needs you to stick with him while he tries to better himself.

So here he is: a fountain pen in hand, wasting his time with something so.. childish. Who writes letters anyway, isn't it something you did as a child towards someone you liked?

Call him a child then. Call him old-fashioned, traditional, and in love. Call him whatever you like, because in the end he’s yours, and he’s always been.

He’s let his thoughts linger for too long and suddenly it's 7 am. His eyebags have never been worse and his mind is tired, not from his job, but from this stupid letter he’s made no progress on. To my dearest should be good enough, right? I mean, you were easy to please. He was sure that it would be more than enough for you.

How tiring. He says, mindlessly scribbling on the paper, jet-black ink scattered all throughout and splattering around the words. Was he angry? Not at all. Frustrated, yes, but for a good reason–to think he did this just because you two were friends was infuriating. Shouldn’t you two be something more?

You were pretty, far too pretty for him to describe. Scaramouche thought his vocabulary was wide enough, but this letter alone has him searching for the words he once knew. Your eyes, leaving him feeling small in a never ending forest and your smile–god, your smile was intoxicating. It would give light to the things he’s been hiding from you this entire time. Your laugh–your voice, sweet and soft, loud and oh-so clear. How you’d bring it down to a whisper when you feel embarrassed about admitting something, how your nose scrunches up when you laugh or when your smile lines just seem so fitting for someone like you.

What was so special about you?

You were like the sunset on the beaches, glowing. Absolutely stunning, ethereal, lighting everything in a bright orange, his eyes becoming a mix of brown and a dark blue. He’s different around you, he's a completely different person. From the color of his eyes to the racing of his heart, to the feeling that he wasn’t getting enough air whenever you hold his hand–but you’d do it in a friendly way. You don't squeeze his hand too tight, you let go when necessary and don’t leave any kind of touch lingering for far too long.

Scaramouche is not an easy man to love. He’s bad with words and he can’t tell you the things you want to hear;he can’t provide you with the touch you crave, he can’t make up his mind. One moment he’s thinking about just giving you a whole bag of mora for you to use for your next trip, the other he’s thinking about finishing this damn letter that has plagued his mind ever since you first whispered the fact you appreciate him.

There’s no way he can treat you right. There’s absolutely no way he will be perfect, that he’ll be the partner that’ll leave such a mark on you. But god, ask for the world and he will give it to you. Name one thing and when you wake up it's right at your nightstand. Choose the ring and its design, he’ll get a matching one that you yourself decided on as well. Just say the word because he is a child in love.

So here he is, an envelope in hand. Going to the nearest flower shop to buy something that will still wilt under the sun after a few days. He will not love, and can’t love the same way as you, but he will learn how to.

Call him stupid;call him an idiot for falling for someone he knows is way too out of his league. But that’s all he is, and it's far too late to change that. He might lose you at some point, and that's really what scares him the most.

Suddenly he’s standing at your doorstep, ringing the doorbell and you’d be confused who in the world decided to bring you a sunflower and a piece of envelope in the middle of the day–you don't recall ordering anything.

He didn’t even get to sign it. Maybe next time he can get it right… for his dearest.

characters belong to their respective companies. everything is written by staarri - do not steal, reupload, translate, modify or feed my work to ai.

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thegettingbyp2 · 8 months

Note

Do you think you could write a Jasper Hale x human!female!reader fic (this would take place during new moon) where he leaves and the reader has to deal with the after math of this. Then he later comes back angst might ensue but perhaps with a fluffy ending? Please and Thank You! 💖

P.S let me know if you need anymore info!

For Good This Time

A/N: If you enjoy this, please consider buying me a coffee :)

You weren’t really sure how your world was turned upside down in a matter of a small few hours. One moment, you had been laying on Jasper’s chest on your bed, his hand weaving through your hair as he read Jane Eyre to you, and the next you found yourself on your own, feeling like your heart had been completely ripped out of your chest.

Jasper had thoroughly broken your heart and then stomped on the broken shards that then lay at your feet. He said that he no longer loved you and that he was tired of constantly having to be cautious around you; that he wanted to be with someone who wouldn’t break so easily. When you found out that the same thing had happened to Bella when Edward broke up with her, the two of you found yourselves growing closer; the pair of you knowing how it felt to have your heart broken by one of the Cullens.

That was a year ago and the pain in your chest was still just as painful as the day he left. Bella had started to grow closer to her old childhood friend, Jacob Black, and whilst you were happy for her and happy that she seemed to be dealing with everything that happened a lot better, a part of you couldn’t help but feel bitter and left behind; that you should have moved on by now. However, although you knew that Jasper was gone, there was a part of you that always hoped that he’d come back. There were a few times where you had been convinced that you’d seen him as you walked down the street and were always tempted to follow him to see if it really was him but had to stop yourself.

So, when you found out that Edward and the Cullens had come back, you raced over to the house that you’d missed so much, only to be disappointed when you didn’t see the familiar blonde head that you were desperate to see.

‘I’m sorry, (Y/N),’ Esme said when she saw the look of realisation on your face that he wasn’t there. ‘He thought it was best if he stayed away from you, he’s been coming back into town every few months to check on you but he thinks it’s best for you if he stays away.’

‘But why would he think that?! The whole time he’s been gone, it feels like I’ve not been able to breathe. I thought we were past this, he knew that he wasn’t going to hurt me, he knew that!’

When you went home that night, you went straight into your room, collapsing on top of your bed as sobs wracked through your body. You have no idea how long you had been crying for but you were just drifting off into a fitful sleep when you felt a freezing cold touch on your cheek. You flinched at the sudden change in temperature and felt the touch retract instantly, a small inhale sounding with it that had your eyes snapping open to look into a pair of the prettiest amber-coloured eyes you’d ever seen.

‘Jasper,’ you breathed out as you sat up on your bed, taking in the sight of him standing at the foot of your bed, looking down at you with a mix of love and fear and worry in his eyes.

‘Hey, darlin’,’ he replied quietly, his Southern accent thick.

You inched your way to the end of the bed, standing up but losing your balance as you refused to take your eyes off of him, terrified that he would disappear if you so much as blinked. Jasper’s hands quickly came out to steady you and the feel of his cool fingers on the bare skin of your arms had you snapping out of the trance you seemed to be in and all of a sudden, tears were streaming down your face again as your fists began to hit at his chest. Your fists were surely going to bruise at the contact to his rock-hard chest and it would be having absolutely no effect on Jasper, yet he still moved backwards with every punch, as if your hits were physically hurting him.

‘You just left! I was a mess and you didn’t care! And then Esme told me that you’d been coming back here! Why? Why bother coming back if you don’t want me anymore? What are you even doing here?’ The feeling of his hands wrapping gently around your wrists, halting your movements, had your voice dying out in your throat and your sobs taking over your body as you let Jasper gently lower you down until you were both sitting down on the edge of your bed, your face buried in his chest as you continued to cry.

He held you tightly against him, his nose buried in your hair as his hand moved up to cup your cheek, wiping away your tears and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. ‘I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I thought if I left then it’d be safer for you. After everything that happened at Bella’s birthday last year, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if the same thing happened to you. I kept coming back because I couldn’t bear to be away from you but whenever I saw you, I thought you just needed more time to get over everything. It wasn’t until Carlisle and Esme told me that they’d spoken to you that I knew I had to come back for you. I missed you so much.’

‘I kept thinking that I saw you and it was driving me crazy and the thought of you not coming back because you didn’t want to see me, broke me all over again.’

‘I know, and I’m so sorry. I was stupid and you didn’t deserve any of that.’

‘You told me you didn’t love me anymore,’ you whispered in a shaky voice and you felt him still around you.

‘And I hate myself for it every single second that I exist. There won’t be a day where I won’t hate myself for saying that to you and, if you’ll let me, I’d like to spend the rest of my existence making it up to you.’

You pulled back to look at him and the guilt was written as plain as day in his eyes. Slowly, you moved your hand to cup his cheek and tilted your head until your lips lightly brushed against his, your breath escaping you at the feeling of his lips finally back on yours, something you’d missed for the last 365 days.

‘You’re definitely back?’ you asked nervously, not wanting to let yourself relax only for him to break your heard all over again.

‘For good this time, ma’am,’ he said, a small smirk in his voice as he laid the entirely of his Southern charm on you, knowing it made you weak in the knees before pressing his lips to yours again and gently pulling you both down onto the bed.

#jasper hale #jasper hale imagine #jasper hale x reader

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charlosvibesonly · 3 months

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Racing Hearts - Part 2

A Max Verstappen Imagine

Part 1

pairing : max x fem! reader/driver

the aftermath of their unexpected kisses is driving the racing world crazy. and y/n can't help but fall for him.

please lmk if you want this to be a series!

The night air was filled with anticipation as you and Max stayed there, lingering in the aftermath of the unexpected kiss. As days passed, you found yourself inexplicably attracted to Max in a way that surpassed the excitement of the racetrack. The articles and headlines about your growing connection were impossible to ignore, and soon, even you were caught up in the romance that they portrayed.

Snippets from articles read,

"From fierce rivals to unexpected lovers, Y/N and Max's story is straight out of a Hollywood script. Once a battleground, the racetrack is now the backdrop for their burgeoning romance."

"Fans can't get enough of the unexpected chemistry between Y/N and Max. Is it love or a strategic move to keep the competition on track?"

"In a surprising turn of events, the racetrack has become the stage for a love story that transcends the finish line. Can these racing rivals make it work off the track?"

The tabloids and fans alike speculated on the authenticity of your relationship, dissecting every shared glance and lingering touch. Amid it all, you found yourself genuinely liking Max, a realization that both thrilled and terrified you. The thrill of racing was now accompanied by the happiness of stolen glances and the gentle brush of hands during press events.

It was the Silverstone weekend. Y/N went to a club at her friends’ persuasion. The dim, pulsating lights cast a hazy glow over the dance floor, where bodies swayed.

However, the vibrant energy took a swift downturn when you stumbled upon Max. His presence stood out amidst the chaotic dance floor, his sleek black attire making him an unmistakable figure in the sea of people. Your breath hitched as you caught sight of him, his arms wrapped around another girl, their laughter blending with the bass-heavy music.

At that moment, the world seemed to slow down, the rhythmic beats of the music fading into the background. Hurt and blindsided, you felt a sudden weight in your chest, and a knot tightened in the pit of your stomach.

His eyes met yours, you could see the realization dawning on his face. Without a word, you turned away, determined to escape the suffocating atmosphere.

Max hurried after you, pulling you back.

"Where are you going?" he asked a mix of concern in his eyes.

"Somewhere I don't bother you and your date," you replied, your anger palpable.

“Must have been so fun right? Playing with me.” your voice breaking.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, and you left without giving him a chance to explain.

Arriving at the hotel, you retreated to the solitude of your room, hoping the night would make you hurt less.

It was race day. And you wanted revenge. Max and you were in a very close fight for the championship, this win could give you an advantage. And you wanted it.

Rain was forecasted. The downpour was obviously in Max’s favor. You cursed your luck. But decided to give him an equally tough fight. You weren’t the kind to back down.

As the cars navigated the treacherous turns, the rain intensified, challenging even the most seasoned drivers. The spray of water, illuminated by the headlights, created a dazzling display that added a layer of drama to the already high-stakes competition. The race unfolded like a dance between machines and elements, a battle not only against each other but also against the relentless forces of nature.

Amidst the chaos, Max executed a surprising move, a strategic decision that played a pivotal role in helping you secure the lead.

“Y/N wins the British Grand Prix!”

The noise was deafening.

But you weren’t celebrating. A thousand questions ran through your head. Your eyes searched for Max. Making your way towards to garage, you stood in front of him.

So many things you wanted to know, but all you could say was, “Why?”

"You stopped talking to me, Y/N," Max began, his voice cutting through the chaotic symphony of the rain and engines. His gaze bore into yours, seeking understanding. "You just went away. I wasn't playing around, and I certainly wasn't on a date. She was just a fan, a little too eager. You have to believe me; I'd never mess with you like that. I think I like you too much for it."

As he spoke, Max's emotions played out on his expressive face. There was a hint of regret for the misunderstanding, a touch of vulnerability in the admission of liking you, and a determination to set things right.

In the midst of it all, the call to the podium interrupted, leaving Max's explanation hanging in the air.

On the podium, with rain still pouring down, the fans eagerly anticipated a kiss. The scent of wet asphalt mixed with the sweet champagne hung in the air as you stood next to Max. Your racing suits, now drenched, clung to your bodies, creating a scene that echoed the intensity of the race you both had just conquered.

In that charged moment, emotions swirled within you like a storm. The recent hurt and confusion from the club scene were still fresh, an ache in your chest that begged for resolution.

Seizing the moment, you took Max's face in your hands. Your eyes revealed a mix of emotions – anger and hurt were there, yes, but underneath it all, a burning desire to set things right, to redefine the narrative that had spiraled out of control. The kiss that followed caught Max off guard.

Surprised by your sudden boldness, Max responded with eagerness. He pulled you closer, the racing suits sticking to your bodies like a second skin. Max lifted you into the air, clearly showing how eager he was. As you hung in his arms, Fernando, sharing the podium, grabbed a bottle of champagne and poured it over both of you. The kiss continued, undeterred by the rain, and crowd.

As you broke away, you realized that you were no longer rivals; instead, you were something undefined, something that went beyond the racetrack.

The post-race interview was a chorus of questions about your evolving relationship.

"Y/N, Max, can you confirm if this is a real romance or just a publicity stunt?" one reporter asked.

You exchanged a glance with Max, and laughing you replied, "It's as real as the rain pouring down on us."

Another reporter jumped in, "How did this happen? Weren't you arch-rivals just a while ago?"

Max, a playful smirk on his face, responded, "Well, sometimes, the best races happen when you least expect them."

The other drivers were caught equally off-guard. Charles said in his interview, ”I thought I was the only one with a surprising performance today, but clearly, I underestimated those two.” And he chuckled while watching their kiss being replayed over and over again.

During the interview, your phone buzzed with a text from Max, "Meet me at 9?"

Your smile was his answer.

Clearly distracted, a reporter tried to grab Max’s attention, "So, are we going to see more public displays of affection in the future?"

Looking at you Max answered, "Well, you'll have to wait and see. We're just getting started."

#max verstappen #charles leclerc #f1 #f1 imagine #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1

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fandom-chic · 3 months

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Please Please Please: Chapter 13

Summary: Y/N is only a child when she and Tommy Shelby meet. The two quickly become best friends as they grow up in Small Heath. As the years go by, Y/N and Tommy know there may be more to their friendship than they originally thought.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Y/N

A/N: Final chapter my friends! Thanks for reading this, it means a lot to me. Enjoy <3 Also for those who are curious, the title of this fic is based off The Smiths song, "Please Please Please, Let Me Get What I Want". Give it a gander if you haven't.

Previous chapter

Year: 1924

Her curls did not want to sit properly on her shoulders. Y/N had been standing in front of her mirror now for twenty minutes, focusing on the strands of hair that would not cooperate. They seemed to be skewing and frizzing in directions she could not control. Even running a comb to loosen the curls did not seem to do the job. Finally, Y/N sighed and let her hands fall to her sides, accepting that this was the mess that was her hair that day.

She just wanted to be perfect. She had to be.

A day like this is one that sticks in someone's mind for a long time and she must leave a favorable impression. Or at least pass as somewhat graceful, especially in the wake of what has happened.

“Mummy!” Her daughter’s shout reverberated through the house, interrupting Y/N’s racing thoughts. It may be for the best that she approached this day with her mind as a blank slate. That was what this day was, blank and with zero expectations. If it was anything else to her, it couldn’t be. One may say that was cruel and unfeeling. Y/N didn’t really know anymore.

“Coming sweetheart,” Y/N shouted back, dabbing a final blot of red lipstick upon her lip before heading out of her bedroom door. When she entered Jane’s room, she saw the little girl in her PJs still, holding a doll in each hand. Jane looked up at her mother, using the doll to gesture towards her.

“Play with me, Mummy.” Y/N let out a sigh before heading to her daughter’s bed, holding up the dress she laid out for Jane.

“Janey, I told you to put this dress on,” Y/N said, annoyance mixing into her voice. Jane frowned, fixating back on her dolls.

“I don’t want to,” Jane stated, as if the conversation was over.

“Well, you have to.” Y/N retorted tiredly, not wanting to argue with her five year old daughter.

“No,” Jane whined, standing up and throwing the dolls to the floor.

“Yes,” Y/N responded, “We have to leave in ten minutes or we’re going to be late.”

“I don’t want to go,” Jane screamed, the tantrum on the precipice of beginning. Y/N could feel frustration simmering in her gut as she bent down to her daughter’s height.

“I know you don’t want to, love, but there’s no one to watch you,” Y/N said, placing a hand on her daughter’s arm, “Plus, you don’t want Mummy to be alone today, do you? She’s going to miss you so much.” Her daughter’s face softened immediately, as if the idea of her mother being all alone was the worst thing imaginable. Jane quickly shook her head, grabbing the dress from her mother’s hands.

“No, I don’t want you to be lonely.” Y/N nodded at this, feeling that with each day that goes by, she is becoming more and more like her own mother. The guilt tripping was beginning early. Y/N helped pull the dress over Jane’s head and took her daughter in. She truly was the best thing in your life.

“Ready to go?” Y/N asked. Jane answered with a nod. Y/N gave her daughter a smile before taking her and leading the two of them out the door. It was too nice out today to drive, so Y/N decided to let them walk. It wasn’t the farthest walk in the world, only twenty minutes away. The weather seemed to put Jane in a better mood as she began skipping down the road of Small Heath. Looking down at her daughter, Y/N couldn’t help but see herself. This was about the age she was when she moved to Small Heath. This was the age she was when her life changed and she still isn’t sure if it was for the worse or the better. Regardless, William would be so proud of their little girl.

The walk went by quickly and soon they were there. It was a small funeral, smaller than Y/N expected, especially since the deceased was a well loved member of town. Y/N and Jane went into the church and were greeted by a closed casket as well as a beautiful portrait of her, Grace. The barmaid from that day all those years ago. Y/N stood and examined every inch of it, taking in the soft blue eyes and the quaffed blonde hair. Tommy did pick a beautiful wife.

To be honest, Y/N still wasn’t entirely sure why she was here. She and Tommy hadn’t spoken since that day five years ago. It was probably for the best, even if Y/N had spent many nights dreaming up conversations with her best friend. She played back that last night in her head, wondering what would’ve happened if she let him stay. She sighed to herself, squeezing her daughter’s hand gently.

Deep down, Y/N knew why she was here. He was her best friend and, even if he wasn’t there on the worst day of her life, she had to be there for him. A tear pricked the corner of her eye as she pushed that thought down as people began to file into the church.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s take a seat.” At that, the woman and her daughter went to one of the back pews and took a seat. The two of them observe the service from afar. They weren’t family and they were barely friends anymore.

Loved one after loved one spoke about Grace, remembering the wonderful woman that she was. The event seemed to almost drag on until Tommy finally rose. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as he looked out at the crowd. She hoped he wouldn’t see her as she tried to hunch into the pew.

He cleared his throat of tears before speaking, “I didn’t think this day would come. The day I would have to say goodbye to my Grace,” His voice wavered slightly but he continued, “But here we are. Grace, I love you beyond words and I will miss you for the rest of my life.” At that, he was done and he was seated. It was short but sometimes that’s all you can say when your spouse suddenly dies.

Soon after this, everything came to a close. Y/N and Jane rose quickly and began to head out. Tommy didn’t need to know she was here. As she’s about to make her way out the door, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She froze, not sure if she should look at who was behind her.

“Hello, love,” she relaxed at that voice. Arthur. She turned around and brought the man into an embrace.

“Arthur Shelby, it’s been too long,” she felt his hands go around her waist and hold her close. He then pulled away, putting his hands on both her shoulders, taking her in.

“Each time I see you, you just get more and more beautiful,” Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his comment. His gaze then moves to the little girl attached to her mother’s hip. He bends down, going eye to eye with the child.

“And you must be Jane, you look just like your mum,” Jane, usually not a shy girl, hides in Y/N’s skirt. Y/N gave a small chuckle as she looked back at Arthur.

“She’s not usually like this,” Arthur shrugged.

“It’s not every day a little girl has to go to a funeral.” Arthur stopped himself short before he could say anything else. He looked into Y/N’s eyes to see if he touched a nerve and noticed the slight sadness that entered and left her face. It was just a moment, but anyone who knew Y/N would’ve noticed. He cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing, “I’m sorry again about William.”

Y/N’s gaze immediately went to the corner of the room. This was a discussion she was used to having at this point. It had been three years since she lost her husband, but the wound still hurt. It was like the scab got peeled back and slowly picked at until blood started to flow.

Y/N let her hand fidgets with her skirt as she tried to look back at Arthur, “It’s alright, it’s been years now.” Arthur takes her hand from her skirt.

“That doesn’t make it any less awful,” He gave her hand a squeeze, “The least I can do is ask you back for drinks at Arrow House. I’m sure the rest of the family would want to see you.”

“Arthur, I’m not sure-”

“I won’t take no for an answer.” Y/N sighs, considering what the next part of her day would look like. Before she knew it, she was on the grounds of Arrow House. It really wasn’t a house though, a mansion was a more apt word for what this estate was. Even though the home could’ve fit hundreds of people in it, only a couple were there now. Family and Y/N and Jane, but Tommy nowhere in sight.

Everyone seemed to disperse around the house, including Jane who went off with Ada’s boy, Karl. Y/N tried to schmooze with the Shelby family, but couldn’t help her eyes from wandering. She had to find Tommy. She knew he was somewhere in this mansion. There was no way he wasn’t. So, when people seemed distracted, she left the crowd and began searching. It didn’t take a lot of exploring before she noticed a door with a light peaking through the bottom. Her curiosity didn’t allow her to knock; she reached for the doorknob, pushing the door open.

Y/N was correct in her assumption because there Tommy was, head in his hands as he sat hunched at his desk. She knew she should make her presence known. She knew the least she could do is say hello. It would force him to look up and acknowledge her. But that’s not what she did. She couldn’t because all she saw was the boy with the baseball from all those years ago broken into millions of pieces. Her feet led her right to him and her body did what it had to. She scurried over, taking him into her arms.

His instinct was to twitch away, even try to swat at the random hands but then he saw her. Even though it was years, he couldn’t help but lean in. He knew it could’ve been decades, even lifetimes and he would always lean into her touch.

“Y/N.” The word came out in the timbre of a whisper, but Y/N heard it. It was her Tommy, how could she not?

“Tommy.” His arms wrapped tightly around her waist as her hand went into his hair, stroking it. “I’m so sorry.”

She waited for Tommy to respond, but he didn’t say anything. He just held her. So she let him. She let him take her in like she had so many times before and she felt a semblance of peace. Maybe for the first time in a long time. Minutes ticked by like this before Y/N felt Tommy move. She looked down at him to see him rising to his feet. Soon, her hands were on her cheeks as he gazed into her eyes.

“I can’t believe you came,” he whispered. Y/N couldn’t help but lean her forehead against his. He let her.

“You’re my best friend, Tommy,” she responded, her voice quivering, “it’s what best friends do.” She felt him twitch at that, knowing she may have accidentally hit a nerve.

“You can’t say that, Y/N,” the volume of his voice began to rise, “when William died I was nowhere to be seen. I left you alone like a fucking coward.”

“Don’t say that,” Y/N soothed, but Tommy pulled away.

“No, I will,” Tommy said, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “Your fucking husband died and I couldn’t put my ego aside long enough to see you.”

Y/N stood in silence, watching him, taking in his words. At the time of William’s funeral, Y/N was half a woman. Not even, she was not even one percent of who she used to be. She was all alone with a toddler and a restaurant, unsure of how the next day would go. And despite all of that, she wished she could cry in Tommy’s arms. She also wanted to punch his chest in frustration.

When she received the news of Grace’s death, she was ready to stay home. To spend a day like any other day, until she got a knock at her door. When she opened it, Polly stood before her, more sullen than Y/N had seen her in years.

“Polly, what are you doing here?”

“Hello, Y/N,” she said, letting herself in. She took off her gloves and took in the home quickly, before continuing, “I wish I could’ve come with better news but…” she trailed off before continuing, “Tommy’s wife died.”

Y/N’s hand instinctively flew to her chest, “Oh god, that’s awful, what happened?” And Polly explained the series of events of the last few years and the rise to power the Peaky Blinders had come to which, inevitably, led to Grace’s death.

“I’m so sorry Pol, what a terrible thing to happen,” Y/N said, “Please send my condolences to Tommy, I’m sure he needs it more than ever right now.” Y/N had expected the conversation to be over now, but Polly didn’t move.

“He needs you, Y/N. More than ever.” Y/N averted her gaze from Polly. The last thing she wanted to do was see Tommy.

Y/N let out a sigh before saying, “Polly, I’m not sure that’s a great idea. Besides, he didn’t come to William’s funeral and that was-”

“I know, but you have to realize he couldn’t.” Polly’s hand went to Y/N’s, giving it a squeeze, “He may seem like a man who is invincible, but with you… it’s different. He becomes that little boy again. You’re more than he is and I think he knows that.”

And those words stuck with Y/N, especially here in Tommy’s office. She didn’t care about his ego anymore or the jealousy or any of that bullshit. All she knew was he needed her. So she reached out to him, hoping he would come.

“It’s the past now, Tom.” The words shocked him and seemed to surprise her as well, but anger had to leave at some point. “You’re my best friend, you always have been and you always will be.”

So he goes to her, pulling her into his arms. Even after all this time, they still fit like puzzle pieces. True, they were a bit more jagged now, but they still were perfect matches.

“I love you, Y/N,” She knew those words were real.

“I love you too.” And slowly, they knew that one day, they could heal.

End

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witchthewriter · 3 months

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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 & 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: swearing, nsfw included (no one under 18 please).

a/n: ghoap is my favourite ship but I always want to be involved so this is fanservice and ... self insert. Anyway, enjoy!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

God there is so much I want to say!!! I want to read more ghoap x reader. It's so funnnnn. Anyway, please enjoy - if you have any suggestions or prompts I would be more than happy to answer them <3

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You were in a relationship with Johnny long before Simon entered the picture

・Johnny had made you absolutely swoon for months, but you were too hesitant to do anything about it. Your insecurities held you back.

・How could someone as gorgeous as this man, nay, god, even look your way.

・But he was looking your way, and crushing so bad that you were all he could think about.

・You found a lot of solace in each other, swapping phone numbers and texting constantly. Johnny's first message was: "heyy bonnie, how'd ye day go? ❤️"

・It took you nearly an hour to reply because all your brain could do was short circuit

・But over the years you became friends, then lovers, moving in together. All while he was still going on missions.

・He took you to meet his family after 3 months of proper dating, and he was so proud to show you off.

"Aye this is she!," he said (yelled) presenting you to his large family. (They didn't believe you existed).

・Your relationship with Johnny has always been based on honesty and humour. You know you can rely on him for anything, even if he can be a bit fookin' cheeky.

・Johnny had told you about his teammates (once he realised you were the person for him).

・And you quickly noticed the way he would speak different about his Lieutenant. Simon Riley.

・A crush...

・You had no issue with it. Crushes were normal, and you knew Johnny was faithful. You also knew Johnny was much to apprehensive to do anything with Simon.

・But one day, when you were picking Johnny up on the tarmac, after a grueling 3 months away. Simon watched as you ran into Johnny's arms. Kept watching as he spun you around, buring his face in your neck.

"Johnny..." you whimpered, pressing soft kisses all over his face.

"Aye, it's me bonnie. Couldn't get rid of me if you tried."

・Tears were in both of your eyes and Simon had to close his own. Swallowing a lump down his throat.

・After you and Johnny had left, Simon stayed in his car for upto 2 hours. Staring out the frontshield window. Confused as fuck.

・How could he fall in love with a person he'd never spoken to? In his deeper, most inner self, he knew he loved Johnny too.

・And when he arrived 'home,' he shucked off his clothes and stayed in the shower. Sitting, letting the water mix with his tears. He would give anything. Anything, to be with you both. But he knew that was ridiculous.

・Surprise. It wasn't ridiculous.

・When you got home, instantly you brought up Johnny's superior.

"Eh, wha' about him, bonnie?" Johnny asked suspiciously, opening the fridge door.

"He likes you."

All you got in response was an eye roll.

"Johnny," there was something in your voice which made him look at you.

"As a ... teammate. As a friend, aye. Yes. Not as anything more."

"I like him too," you cooed. Walking over to the blue-eyed Scotsman.

・He smirked, grabbed your waist and pulled you close, "don't go pryin'."

・You went prying.

・But didn't have to go too far, because Simon was never too far away.

・You bumped into him many times, both with and without Johnny.

・It all came to a head, when your car stopped working and you needed a ride home.

・Simon was more than happy to help.

・Johnny nearly fainted when he opened the door. His partner and his teammate stood in the doorway, a cheeky - almost sheepish smile on yours.

・No matter how hard Simon tried to leave, you made him stay ... and stay he did. You made his tea perfect on the first try.

・Always a dog pile when it's time to go to bed. Arms and legs are splayed over whoever. You might start in the middle but by the morning you're completely on top of Simon while Johnny uses your bum as a pillow

・It took 6 months for Simon to move in. And he brought Riley with him as well. Your cats weren't too happy about that ...

・It's a silent agreement that no one uses the boys' call signs. It's always their real names or pet names.

・Simon and Johnny like to keep their work away from their home life as much as possible.

・On deployment, Johnny and Simon have both agreed that home with you is their solace. You are their person.

・And speaking of being on the same task force; you made Johnny and Simon sit down (with their favourite beverages) to talk it out. Sometimes they wanted you there, other times you knew they needed to be alone.

・But encouraging communication made both men a lot less scared to express their feelings. Even if you could be quite ... aggressive.

"Look, Johnny...it's uh, hard to say... but-"

"No, no, I ken what ye mean-"

"Ah! Let him say it Johnny!" You yelled from another room.

Johnny sighed, blushed and sat straighter in his chair.

"Uh. Yeah well," Simon started to sweat. This was worse than an interrogation.

But before Simon could finish, Johnny just bellowed out in a very gruff Scottish accent, "I love ye Simon Riley!"

And Simon never thought he would feel as elated as he did in that moment.

Until you rounded the corner, sat on Johnny's lap and blushed. "We, love you Simon Riley."

・And you pushed a black box over to him.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Would Die For One Other

You (And Johnny) Fell First, But Simon Fell Harder

"Hey can I have a…" (You) x "Yes. Whatever it is. Yes." (Johnny)

"You wear the pants in this relationship" (You) x "oh I wish, I cannot control you at all" (Simon)

The Moon (Simon) and His Star (Johnny)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Soulmates Sometimes Come In Threes

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

The Tour by James Newton Howard

Skyfall by the Midnite String Quartet

Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon

(yes there are multiple songs because this relationship deserves it)

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.

・Might be a bit of a shock, but Johnny loves to dominate Simon. Especially when they're deployed.

・You gave them the green light to be intimate whenever they wanted, especially when on deploment. But both Simon and Johnny agreed it wasn't the same without you. (Actually makes them feel sad and guilty.)

・Trying new things in the bedroom is something that you and Johnny really enjoy. Simon is more of a calmer, more sensual lover. He doesn't like anything too hardcore.

・He wants to make love, not fuck goddamit!

・You know how couples love going to the farmer's markets on the weekend? Yeah well you and Johnny love going to sex shops.

・Dildos, vibrators, strap ons, nipple clamps, different types of lube...

・Both Johnny and Simon like to be pegged.

・And Simon likes eating ass

・Simon isn't very comfortable with public sex, so you never push him to. But Johnny is all for it.

・You and Johnny love riling Simon up. His stoic demeanour almost triggers you two to make him blush.

・No one can remember how this started, but when both men are at home and it's night ... you start a stripping party. But whatever song it lands on; you HAVE to strip/dance/perform to it.

・It took a while for Simon to even participate, but once he saw how open Johnny and you were, he couldn't resist.

・The first time he joined, the song that he had to strip to was, "Say My Name" by Destiny's Child

・He wasn't so enthusiastic but with a bit of encouragement, he blew your minds'.

・Simon ended it by throwing Johnny and yourself over his shoulders and marching you up to the bedroom. Both you and Johnny laughing your assess off, and pinching Simon's backside.

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poisonlove · 6 months

Text

A macchiato, please | j.o

part 1

I'm finally home, wrapped in the familiar atmosphere only my apartment can provide. Tex, my affectionate German Shepherd, is my sole company at the moment.

"Hello, sweetheart," I whisper gently, bending down to pet his head as his tail wags happily, displaying pure joy.

"I know... you're hungry," I confirm with a resigned sigh, heading to the kitchen. I open a can of dog food and mix it carefully with the kibbles.

"Enjoy your meal!" I add with a shy smile as Tex starts to happily devour his food.

I toss the keys onto the table.

I was so tired that I decided to skip my usual nightly routine and went straight to bed. I fall onto the soft mattress, exhausted from the long day.

As I turn on my phone, the screen greets me with a notification that seems like a dream.

Jennaortega has started following you.

A thrill of excitement rushes through me.

"I can't believe it," I whisper to myself with a small smile, feeling as if I've won the lottery of luck.

Curious to know more about her, I access her profile, smiling at her beautiful close-up picture. Her bright, happy eyes convey an infectious vitality.

"Wow, 40 million followers," I thought incredulously. It was like stepping into a whole new world, filled with enthusiastic followers.

I smile as I see numerous comments filled with love and support for Jenna, carefully observing her latest post: she was inside a car, wearing headphones. An involuntary sigh escapes my lips; her brown eyes seem to gaze at me as if wanting to read my soul. Her slightly parted lips, her perfectly falling bangs... her posture so natural by the window told a story of freedom and carefreeness.

I follow her back.

With shyness and anxiety, I open the chat and look at Jenna Ortega's profile picture. "You can do this... just say hi," I murmur to myself, trying to muster some courage.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed the place I manage to write, my fingers trembling slightly. I send the message, feeling my heart race. I exit the chat, letting the adrenaline rush through my veins.

I wait anxiously, heart in my mouth, hoping for a response.

The minutes seem endless as the chat remains on standby. Then, suddenly, the phone emits a sound, indicating a new incoming message. The lit screen shows the name Jenna Ortega and a short but kind message: Hi! Yes, I really enjoyed the place, the atmosphere was truly cozy. Thanks!

A spontaneous smile spreads across my face. Is there something you're particularly passionate about? I write, hoping to make the conversation deeper and more interesting.

Jenna's response comes quickly: Mmmh... why this random question?

I nervously bite my lower lip. I don't know, I'd love to know something about you that the internet can't tell me I write honestly.

I involuntarily smile as Jenna puts a heart on my message. "In that case... I love art and culture, so I enjoy visiting museums and art galleries. And also nature, taking long walks in parks."

I feel an immediate connection, as I also loved long walks, especially with Tex, my loyal four-legged companion.

I decide to share this detail:

I also love taking long walks, especially with Tex, my German Shepherd. He's my faithful adventure companion!

Jenna seems to like the bond with the four-legged friend, and the conversation continues on this topic. We've found a common ground that makes the conversation more authentic and enjoyable.

How about we have a call? she suddenly asks.

I feel a thrill of excitement at the opportunity to hear her voice and get to know each other better.

I reply: I'd love to.

A few seconds later, Jenna's profile picture, a white light, appears.

I swallow and, sighing, I accept the call.

"Hey!" My voice trembles slightly, nervous.

Jenna softly laughs, making my heart beat uncontrollably.

"Hello," Jenna responds.

I can sense the smile she's wearing.

"How are you?" I ask and close my eyes at such a basic question.

"Good... just a bit tired," she comments shyly, letting out a small yawn.

My eyes glance at the alarm clock next to my bed, seeing that it's only 10:08 PM.

"Maybe... we talk tomorrow?" I ask worriedly, biting my lower lip.

My heart hammers rapidly in my chest.

"No... I enjoy talking to you," she confesses, and my cheeks flush.

I sigh in relief knowing she couldn't see my blush and smile widely, almost feeling a pain in my cheeks.

"Oh, well... I can say the same," I reply.

Jenna gently laughs, making me smile even more.

"Do you have any interviews tomorrow? Or have the recordings already started?" I ask curiously.

"Mmmh," Jenna murmurs, thoughtful, "I think we're meeting with Tim," she says almost hesitantly.

"Right, it's not certain they're shooting here," I murmur almost sadly.

"I have no idea... but it's very likely," she admits weakly.

An not uncomfortable silence envelops us.

"And tell me... you said you'd be meeting. Who's with you?" I ask with curiosity, clutching the sheets out of nervousness.

"Oh... let me think," Jenna murmurs, "I believe it's Percy and Emma," she admits.

"Emma?" I ask excitedly. "Enid?" I ask with a smile on my face.

"Yes..." she laughs softly at my enthusiasm.

"Do you know I ship them in Wednesday ?" I say excitedly. "Enid and wdenesday are so close and adorable!" I exclaim happily.

Jenna bursts into laughter.

"Maybe it'll be canon... who knows," she says in a sing-song tone.

"Come to think of it..." she begins. "Maybe one day I could introduce you to the cast," she proposes, and I open my mouth in surprise.

"You're not joking... really?" I ask, and she gently laughs at my excitement.

"Seriously, let's say it's a way to pay you back for the coffee," she murmurs, yawning.

My excitement grows as I talk about my passions, the books I love to read, and the places I like to visit in the city. But then, I notice Jenna murmuring timidly, almost incomprehensibly, not responding.

"Jenna, everything okay?" I ask worriedly, sensing something off in the air.

"Mmmh," Jenna responds even more timidly, as if wanting to hide something.

"Did you see the new movie talk to me?" I ask absentmindedly, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood. "It was strange... I feel sorry for the guy, his face got messed up... but the ending... wow," I murmur absentmindedly, hoping to liven up the conversation.

I notice Jenna getting quieter and quieter, and worry grows inside me. "Am I... boring you?" I ask uncertainly, fearing I've made the conversation dull or tiresome for her.

"No," Jenna barely manages to respond, her voice weak and tired.

"I like your voice... keep going..." she affirms with a yawn, trying to encourage me to talk, but it's evident that fatigue is taking over.

Confused, I stutter in my thoughts, "What was I saying?" My mind is a bit foggy, and the fear of having bored her grows.

Jenna's steady breath makes me realize she has fallen asleep. I smile tenderly, knowing it's been a long day for her. Unfortunately, it's clear that tiredness has taken the lead, and I realize it's best to let her rest.

I gaze at the ceiling of my room, smiling.

"Goodnight, Jen," I whisper with a small smile, feeling the breath of the girl on the other end.

#jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #miércoles addams #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x you #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega imagine

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latanyalove · 4 months

Text

Wild Eyes (Part 4 of When You're Injured)

This is a follow up from the When You're Injured Part 3 so go read that before you start with it! Also this is my second writing smut so please don't hate and give advice instead! WC: 2,981.

Warning! Mature Scenes, Minors don't interact!

Please support me by liking, reblogging and commenting on this! Also please follow for more content!

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Thank you to all of the people who have supported me throughout the series! Also Happy New Years to everyone!

Taglist: @trafalgarwife159357h3h3, @phsycochan, @veroxbarnes, @afrillisdark, @airwolf92, @punem699, @pascalmode, @drakulana, @laufeyslegacy, @sunnys-day, @mugiwarasoul19, @yunacxo, @stuckinthewrongworld, @purpledemonnnn, @metonimia-de-bellota, @plan3t-plut0, @karichu19, @awkwardspontaneity, @twismare, @bluegalaxygirl, @lavanderdreamve, @jxstmxlly15, @rivui, @norasincubi, @theladyofmanyfandomsofficial, @athena-portgas, @aechmea01 and @rossetter

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As soon as we were shambled to your room, we were met by the concerned look of Bepo, who seemed to be looking for someone. His fur was standing on end, and his ears were flattened against his head.

His eyes were filled with a mixture of fear and sadness as he frantically searched every corner of the room, his whimpering becoming more desperate with each passing moment.

"Law is gonna kill me if I don't find Y/N," He muttered under his breath.

Relief washed over Bepo's face when he finally turned around to see the both of you on your bed, close together. His frantic search came to an end as he let out a sigh of relief, happy to have found Y/N safe and sound.

"Y/N! Where have you been!?" Bepo yelled in a huff.

"She's been with me," Law answered for you, blushing slightly at being discovered.

"Really?" Bepo asked with a smile, "That's a relief," he said, his fur gradually settling back down as he walked over to join you both on the bed.

"Are you guys together now?" Bepo questioned, his eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of mischief.

Both of you exchanged a shocked glance, unsure of how to answer Bepo's question. The truth was that you and Law were planning on keeping your relationship a secret even for a while, and now you were faced with the unexpected task of revealing it to your furry friend.

"We are," you answered for the both of you, your voice filled with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

Bepo's eyes widened in surprise, followed by a mischievous grin as he playfully nudged Law with his paw. "Well, it's about time you two admitted it. The whole crew has been waiting for you two," he chuckled, his tail wagging happily.

"Bepo," Law said in a warning tone.

"Sorry," Bepo switched immediately, slightly bowing his head in a pout.

You tried to move into a more comfortable position, slightly groaning at the pain from moving your arm.

The sudden movement caught the two of them off guard, causing Law to quickly retract his hand from where it had been resting on your waist, and Bepo to stop his playful teasing and look at you with concern.

"We'll let you get some rest," Bepo said, taking Law by the arm and dragging him out of the room.

As Law was being dragged out of the room by Bepo, he turned back for a moment, giving you a last glance. A smile played on his lips as he pulled his hat down to cover his eyes, leaving you with a warm feeling in your heart.

As they left, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Bepo's understanding and support, knowing that he would keep your secret safe.

You slowly covered your face with your blanket, a mix of embarrassment and happiness washing over you as you replayed the intimate moments you shared with Law in your mind.

You couldn't help but slightly squeal into your pillow, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions and the realization that you and Law were now dating.

You started to speak, but your words were lost in the moment as soon as you felt Law's lips on yours. Your heart raced and you felt the warmth of his body against yours. You were lost in the moment, your mind in a daze as you felt his lips gently move against your own.

All of a sudden, the world around you seemed to stop, and the only thing that mattered was the two of you in that moment. You felt like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, and the only thing keeping you from tumbling down was Law's strong arms around you.

You didn't anticipate that a simple visit to Law would lead to you both confessing your feelings and becoming a couple. The unexpected turn of events left you overwhelmed with a mix of nervousness and excitement, but as you lay in bed, replaying the intimate moments in your mind, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the beautiful connection you now shared with Law. . .

As hours turned into days and Law still hadn't visited you, the anticipation and worry began to gnaw at your heart. Just when you were starting to lose hope, Ikkaku arrived at your doorstep with a happy expression.

She handed you a sealed envelope, saying, "Law asked me to give this to you."

Curiosity and a sense of foreboding filled your mind as you carefully opened the letter, unsure of what it would reveal.

Dear Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you well. I want to apologize for my absence these past few days. I realized that being with you would only hinder your healing process. I wouldn't be able to resist the temptation of being close to you, and I don't want to jeopardize the progress you've made. Please understand that my decision was made out of love and concern for you.

Come to me when you're fully healed.

Sincerely your partner Law.

You felt a mix of emotions as you read Law's letter. Flushed with a combination of disappointment and understanding, you couldn't help but appreciate his thoughtfulness and selflessness in wanting to prioritize your healing process.

Deep down, you knew he was right, but it didn't make the longing for his presence any easier to bear.

"Thank you, Ikkaku," you said, touched by Law's gesture. "I appreciate you delivering this to me."

As she sat down on the end of the bed with a curious look, Ikkaku couldn't help but ask, "So, what did Law say in the letter? Is everything okay?"

"Nothing!" you said, forcing a smile. "Law just wanted to check in and make sure I'm doing alright. He's busy with work, but he'll be here soon. Everything's fine."

Deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling of longing for Law's presence, but you didn't want to burden Ikkaku with your worries.

"I heard that you two are finally dating," Ikkaku mentioned, grinning.

"Let me guess, Bepo told you?" You asked, remembering how happy he was when he found out the news.

"Yeah," she answered, her eyes shining with excitement. "He couldn't contain his joy and spilled the beans. I'm really happy for you both."

You and Ikkaku spent the whole day talking about advice on relationships, sharing stories, and discussing what makes a strong partnership. It was comforting to have her support and guidance during this uncertain time, and it reminded you that you weren't alone in navigating the complexities of love.

For the rest of the days, you focused on recovering, following Bepo's advice and engaging in activities that promoted your physical and emotional well-being.

You immersed yourself in self-care, spending time journaling, practicing mindfulness, and engaging in gentle exercises to aid in your healing process. Each day brought you closer to full recovery, and you found solace in the progress you were making.

As the days passed, you couldn't help but find inspiration in Law's selflessness and concern for your well-being. His letter served as a constant reminder of his love and support, motivating you to push through the challenges of recovery and find solace in the progress you were making. . . .

With a mix of anticipation and nervousness, you took a big breath before standing in front of the door.

After weeks of healing and self-care, you were finally ready to surprise Law with your full recovery and the strength you had gained during this challenging time.

What will he think of you? Will he still like you after all this time? Of course, he would. He makes Bepo get a full health check on you every day for goodness sake!

You knocked on the door and waited for a tired "come in," your heart pounding with excitement and nerves. This was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment to reveal your full recovery and the strength you had gained.

"Come in,"

With a mix of anticipation and nervousness, you turned the doorknob and stepped into the room.

As Law's tired eyes met yours, a mixture of surprise and joy washed over his face, instantly replacing any doubt or worry.

"Y/N," he mumbled, standing up from his chair, disbelief written all over his face. He couldn't believe his eyes as he watched you walk into the room, radiating strength and vitality.

"Hey-"

You were suddenly enveloped into a hug, feeling Law's strong arms wrap around you tightly. Tears welled up in both of your eyes as you embraced, the weight of the past weeks melting away in that moment of pure connection and love.

"I can't believe it," Law whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You're truly amazing, Y/N."

You hugged him back, feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace. In that moment, you knew that your journey to recovery had not only strengthened yourself, but also the bond between you and Law.

When the both of you moved back from each other to look into each other's eyes, you saw a deep sense of admiration and pride reflected in Law's gaze.

"Can I kiss you?" Law asked shyly, his voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, filled with anticipation and vulnerability, as you locked eyes with him.

"Oh now you want to ask for permission," you teased, a playful smirk spreading across your face. "After all the times you've stolen kisses from me without asking?"

Law's blush intensified as he sheepishly looked away, a shy smile playing on his lips. "Well, I guess I got carried away," he admitted, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

"Of course, you can kiss me, Law."

Law took a deep breath and leaned in, brushing his lips against yours. His lips were soft and warm, and his hands gently traced your jawline. You melted into his arms, your heart racing with anticipation.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as Law's kiss filled you with a rush of emotions. The touch of his lips against yours conveyed a depth of love and longing, as if all the unspoken words and unfulfilled desires were finally being expressed.

It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a testament to the connection and intimacy you both shared.

You moved away slightly, needing to catch your breath, but it seemed like Law wasn't going to let you do that. He continued to follow your lips wherever they went, deepening the kiss with every moment, as if trying to convey that he never wanted this moment to end.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and surrendering yourself to the intoxicating sensation of his kiss.

His hand wrapped across your waist, lowering dangerously by the minute, igniting a fire of desire within you. The intensity of the moment heightened as you felt his touch inching closer to places that made your heart race even faster.

"Law-" You tried to say, your voice filled with desire, but the words were quickly swallowed by another passionate kiss, as Law's lips found yours once again, erasing any doubts or fears that lingered in your mind.

"Please," he begged, his voice filled with an insatiable craving for you, his hands gripping your waist tighter.

You could feel the raw desire in his touch and the urgency in his kiss, igniting a fire of passion that consumed both of you in that moment.

"Okay," you finally managed to say, pulling away slightly to catch your breath. "But let's take this somewhere more private."

Law nodded and said, "Room Shambles," a mischievous glint in his eyes. With a snap of his fingers, the two of you were instantly transported to a different room.

As you looked around the room, you couldn't help but notice the familiar books stacked on the desk. It was Law's bedroom, a place filled with his essence and personal touch.

The realization sent a shiver down your spine, adding an electric excitement to the air as you both embraced the intimacy of being in his private space.

"So why did you pick your room this time?" You teased, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"Because last time, we got interrupted in your room," Law replied, his voice laced with a playful tone. "I wanted to make sure we have all the privacy we need this time."

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a surge of anticipation as you locked eyes with him, knowing that this time, nothing would interrupt your intimate moment together.

"I guess we've learned our lesson," you said, your voice filled with a playful tone. "No more interruptions, just uninterrupted passion."

Law smirked and pulled you closer, his eyes sparkling with desire. "Exactly," he whispered, before capturing your lips once again, sealing the promise of an undisturbed and unforgettable night together.

Law felt his desire for you intensify with each passing second. Sensing his yearning, he gently guides you towards the bed, his hands caressing your soft skin. You break the kiss momentarily, your eyes locked in a heated gaze.

With a tender touch, Law starts to unbutton your blouse, revealing your luscious curves. His fingertips graze your skin, sending shivers down your spine. As the blouse slips off your shoulders, Law's eyes feast upon your supple breasts, barely contained by a delicate lace bra.

Driven by a mixture of nervousness and desire, you allowed Law to explore your body. His touch ignites a fire within you, as his hands slide down your sides, tracing the curves of your waist and hips. You feel a surge of heat between your thighs, aching for his touch.

Law's mouth hungrily finds its way to your neck, planting soft kisses that make you gasp with pleasure. His lips trail down your collarbone, leaving a path of fiery sensations in your wake. The sound of your breathing grows heavier, filling the room with a symphony of desire.

As your bodies intertwine on the bed, Law's hands find their way to the button of your baggy trousers. He skillfully undoes them, sliding them down your legs, along with your lacy panties. Your wetness glistens in the dim light, a sign of your arousal.

"Did you wear these just for me," Law muttered, slowly touching the lacy fabric of your panties.

"Yeah," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

The truth was, you had planned this encounter with Law in your mind for weeks, carefully selecting the lingerie that would drive him wild.

With a mix of anticipation and tenderness, Law positions himself between your legs, his gaze fixed upon your flushed face. Slowly, he slides his throbbing manhood up and down your slick folds, teasing your entrance.

The sensation is maddening, driving you to the brink of ecstasy.

Unable to resist any longer, Law guides himself into your tight, wet slit. A moan escapes your lips as he enters you, inch by inch. The feeling of him inside you is overwhelming, the perfect combination of pleasure and intimacy. Your bodies move as one, a dance of desire and connection.

Law's hips thrust forward, his cock sliding in and out of your velvety warmth with a rhythm that drives you both wild. The room fills with the sound of your moans and the gentle creaking of the bed, a testament to the intensity of your passion.

Your breasts bounce and sway with each powerful thrust, adding to the visual spectacle before them. Your moans grow louder, more insistent, as Law's cock strokes deeper and harder.

"Oh, Law... yes! Deeper! Give it to me like you mean it!" you cries out, your voice filled with a mix of pleasure and urgency.

Law, completely consumed by the moment, pounds your pussy with an intensity that borders on primal. The sensation of your pussy gripping his cock tightly drives him closer to the edge.

"Y/N... you feel so fucking good," he grunts, his voice laced with desire.

Your bodies move in perfect synchrony, lost in a world of pleasure and connection. The room becomes a blur as you both surrender to your primal instincts. The pleasure builds within, driving you both towards the edge of oblivion.

With a final, powerful surge of pleasure, your body convulses around Law's throbbing shaft. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as you reach your climax. The sensation pushes Law over the edge as well, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he releases his hot load deep inside you dripping wet pussy.

You were exhausted even though Law did all the work. It seemed that your physical and emotional energy had been completely drained, leaving you in a state of blissful exhaustion.

You weakly cupped his face with one hand and smiled, grateful for his efforts and the love he had shown you throughout the day.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Despite your exhaustion, you wanted him to know just how much his support meant to you and how deeply you cherished him.

Law blushed before placing his head perfectly on your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your neck. "I love you too," he murmured softly, his words filling your heart with a renewed sense of love and gratitude.

"But this isn't over," he continued, his hands finding their way back on your waist, "Far from over," he whispered, his voice tinged with a mischievous tone.

"Law-" you said, almost pleadingly.

"Maybe you should have taken more time to rest a little longer," he teased, as he playfully maneuvered you into a different position, ensuring that the night was far from over. . . .

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315 notes · View notes

meteorrites · 5 months

Text

Hi! this is my first time posting here.. and I wrote this at like 2 am so it’s probably all jumbled up + I’m learning English (like actually) had to translate some stuff too :p

Wrote this for my friend so shout out to them, also this is somehow super long?? I don’t know how I managed that so it isn’t proof read.

Sub! Neuvillette nsfw

Furina tríes finding Neuvillette for a meeting but it seems he’s too busy (tried making it gender neutral but— yeah.)

warnings: office sex, reader has a dick but just imagine it’s a strap if you’d like, idk you fuck his ass basically, teasing

——————————

“Neuvillete!”

"Where could he be?" Furina muttered under her breath, a hint of worry breaking through her usually confident demeanor. "Leaving me alone with someone like that."

By “someone like that” she referred to Arlecchino one of the 11th fatui harbingers.

They had arranged a meeting to discuss matters of the state but it seemed Neuvillette was late, which was oddly out of character as he had always been punctual especially matters this serious.

As Furina waited nervously in Arlecchino's presence, her mind raced with concern, Furina swore she checked everywhere… everywhere but the most obvious place where you could find the chief justice himself, his office.

Arlecchino continued to scrutinize her with her piercing gaze. Furina finally blurted out, "Neuvillette should be here to assist me in this matter, but he seems to have vanished into thin air."

Arlecchino's expression remained stern, and a hint of amusement danced in her eyes as he responded, "It appears your capable assistant has chosen an interesting time to disappear. How... unfortunate for you, Furina."

Meanwhile, in Neuvillette's office, the atmosphere was thick with tension as his lips met yours.

Neuvillette's urgency was palpable as he hastily closed the door to his office, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of impatience and desire. Without wasting another moment, he turned to you, his voice husky but still filled with longing.

"Please, Y/n, do not delay any longer. I’ve been waiting for days."

Your lips curled into a knowing smirk as you approached Neuvillette with deliberate steps. The air between you two was charged with anticipation, your desires converging in the small, private space.

"Is that so?" Your voice was low and sultry, a stark contrast to his formality. Your eyes, however, remained dark with desire as you closed the distance between the two of you.

Neuvillette's fingers twitched at his sides, his impatience barely contained. "Do refrain from teasing, my dear Y/N. I find it rather challenging to contain my desires any longer."

Y/N's hands, however, moved with a deliberate slowness as they undid Neuvillette's belt, their gaze locked onto his. The anticipation in the room was electric, but Neuvillette couldn't help but feel a thrill in playing this particular game.

"Ah, but patience, Neuvillette," Y/N purred, their fingers tracing along his waistband, a teasing glint in their eyes.

Neuvillette's breath hitched, and he fought to maintain his usual composure as Y/N's touch sent shivers down his spine. "I’ve been patient enough."

Y/N's lips curled into a knowing smile as they finally freed Neuvillette from his pants. Neuvillette's arousal was evident, his desire on full display as he stood before Y/N, his usual formality slipping away.

"Then let’s not waste any more time.." Y/N's voice carried an air of command, and yet there was a mischievous playfulness to it that made Neuvillette's heart race.

Neuvillette's back met the edge of the desk, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of his skin. Y/N's hands were everywhere, exploring, caressing, and igniting every inch of Neuvillette's body.

Neuvillette's fingers tangled in Y/N's hair, and he pulled them into a fierce kiss that mirrored the urgency coursing through their veins. Their mouths collided, tongues dueling for dominance as their desire spiraled higher.

Y/N's hand slipped between them, wrapping around Neuvillette's hard length, and he couldn't help but moan at the sensation. His hips bucked instinctively, seeking more of Y/N's touch.

"Y/N," Neuvillette gasped, his voice laced with desire as Y/N's grip tightened around him. The formal facade was slipping further, giving way to the intoxicating pleasure of the moment.

Yuri’s lips trailed down Neuvillette's neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses in their wake. "You're mine, Neuvillette. All mine."

Neuvillette's head spun, his arousal and need blurring his thoughts. "Fuck, yes," he managed to breathe, his grip on Y/n’s hair tightening.

In the heat of the moment, Y/n leaned down to capture Neuvillette's lips in a passionate kiss, their mouths melding together with a hunger that mirrored their desire. Neuvillette's moans of pleasure were swallowed by their kiss, the intensity of their connection deepening.

And then, Y/n's fingers found their way to Neuvillette's mouth. They slipped their fingers inside, and Neuvillette's tongue eagerly met them. With a sultry smile, Y/n withdrew their fingers, glistening with Neuvillette's saliva.

Using Neuvillette's saliva as a makeshift lubricant, Y/n continued their preparations, Y/n couldn't resist the urge to add another layer of sensation any longer to their passionate encounter. With one hand firmly gripping Neuvillette's hip, he used his free hand to slide his fingers between Neuvillette's cheeks, teasingly circling his entrance.

Neuvillette gasped at the unexpected touch, his body quivering with anticipation. Y/N's fingers dragged along the velvety walls of his ass, exploring and stretching him in tandem with his thrusts. It was a sensation that sent waves of pleasure coursing through Neuvillette's body, intensifying their connection and bringing them both closer to the brink of ecstasy. But he couldn’t release, he wanted more.

Neuvillette's voice quivered with need, his words a plea for more. "Y/N, don't tease me like this. I need you."

Y/N's response was a wicked grin as he continued his careful exploration, coming tantalizingly close to Neuvillette's prostate without quite hitting it. He could feel the heat and desire radiating from Neuvillette's body, and it only fueled his own arousal.

"Patience, Neuvillette," Y/N murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I want to make this unforgettable for you."

As Y/N stretched and prepared Neuvillette's eager ass, their connection grew even more intense. Neuvillette's moans of pleasure filled the room, his body responding eagerly to Y/N's skilled touch.

Y/N couldn't help but revel in the sensation of Neuvillette's tightness and warmth around him. It was an intoxicating feeling, one that he had longed for, and now that he had it, he intended to make the most of it.

Their passionate encounter continued, each moment filled with unrestrained desire and a playful teasing that had Neuvillette's mind in chaos. The office, once a place of formality, was now a sanctuary of shared passion, with no room for restraint or decorum.

As Y/N's fingers continued to work their magic, Neuvillette's moans grew louder and more desperate. He couldn't contain his desire any longer, and he longed for Y/N to take him completely.

"Y/N," Neuvillette gasped, his voice desperate and filled with need. "Please, I can't wait any longer. Take me."

Y/N's approach was deliberate, and as he pushed inside Neuvillette, he didn't fully enter but instead teased him by rubbing just the tip against his eager warmth. It was a calculated move, one designed to drive Neuvillette wild with desire.

Neuvillette's reaction was immediate and intense. He gasped, his body quivering with need as he desperately sought more of Y/N's touch. "Y/N, please," he begged, his voice filled with longing. "Don't tease me like this."

Y/N's grin was wicked as he continued to tantalize Neuvillette, the head of his cock dancing against Neuvillette's entrance. He could feel the way Neuvillette's body clenched around him, the walls of his ass gripping him tightly in response to the teasing.

Their connection was electric, desire and pleasure coursing through both of them. Y/N's voice was low and husky as he whispered in Neuvillette's ear, "You're so responsive, Neuvillette. I love how you react to my touch."

Neuvillette's moans grew louder, his control slipping away as Y/N's teasing pushed him to the brink of insanity. He arched his back, seeking more of Y/N's touch, more of the pleasure that only Y/N could provide.

"Y/N," Neuvillette gasped, his voice desperate and filled with need. "Please, I need you inside me. Take me."

Y/N's grin grew wider as he finally relented, pushing himself deeper into Neuvillette's eager warmth. A guttural moan escaped Neuvillette's lips as he was filled by Y/N's presence, the sensation overwhelming and exquisite.

Y/N's desire for a better position overwhelmed him, and without a word, they decided to take matters into their own hands. Neuvillette, lost in the sea of pleasure, was caught off guard as Y/N suddenly flipped him over, his chest pressed against the smooth surface of the desk, his ass now fully exposed to Y/N's hungry gaze.

Neuvillette's gasp of surprise was muffled by the desk, and he found himself in a position of vulnerability, completely at Y/N's mercy. Y/N's strength was surprising, and Neuvillette couldn't help but admire his assertiveness.

With Neuvillette now face down on the desk, his ass exposed and inviting, Y/N had full access to his most sensitive areas. It was a position that left Neuvillette trembling with anticipation, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for Y/N to take him completely.

Y/N wasted no time in taking advantage of the new position. His hands roamed over Neuvillette's back and hips, his touch both tender and demanding. He leaned over Neuvillette, his lips trailing hot kisses along the curve of his spine.

Neuvillette's moans of pleasure filled the room as Y/N's lips and hands explored every inch of his exposed skin. He couldn't contain his desire any longer, and he pressed his ass back against Y/N, silently begging for more.

Y/N's fingers brushed against Neuvillette's ass, teasing and tantalizing. He couldn't resist giving Neuvillette's cheeks a playful squeeze, earning a gasp of pleasure in response.

"Y/N," Neuvillette whispered, his voice filled with need. "Please, I need you."

Y/N's response was to position himself once again, this time pushing into Neuvillette with a single, powerful thrust. The sensation was overwhelming, and Neuvillette cried out in ecstasy as Y/N filled him completely.

Their connection deepened as they moved together in perfect harmony. The pleasure they shared was intense and all-consuming, and as they surrendered to the ecstasy that bound them together, they knew that this encounter would be one they would both cherish forever.

Y/N leaned over, his lips grazing Neuvillette's ear as he whispered, "You feel incredible like this, Neuvillette. You're mine, and I'm going to make you scream."

Neuvillette's moans filled the room as Y/N continued to thrust into him, their passion reaching new heights with every passing moment. The office, once a place of formality, was now a realm of shared desire, where they could give in to their most primal instincts without restraint.

Their movements were fervent, urgent, driven by a need that had built over days of anticipation. The desk rocked beneath them, a testament to their unrestrained desire.

Neuvillette's hands gripped the edge of the desk, his knuckles turning white as he met each of Y/n’s thrusts with equal fervor. The pleasure was exquisite, every sensation magnified by their raw need for each other.

Y/n’s voice was a low growl in Neuvillette's ear, their words driving Neuvillette closer to the edge. "You're so damn responsive, Neuvillette. My cock knows exactly how to make you scream."

Neuvillette's pants were fully down now, leaving him exposed and pressed against his desk, the situation utterly scandalous. Y/N's grip on him tightened, their desire evident in the way they pressed their body against him, their groin firmly against Neuvillette's exposed rear.

The friction and heat between them were undeniable, and Neuvillette's gasps grew more intense as pleasure coursed through his body. His arousal was evident, his cock hard and throbbing, pre-cum glistening as it dripped onto the polished surface of the desk.

Y/n's relentless desire and teasing had pushed Neuvillette to the brink of ecstasy, and he couldn't deny the intoxicating sensations that coursed through him. The office, once a place of formality, had become a sanctuary of shared passion and irresistible temptation.

In the midst of their passionate encounter, Y/N couldn't resist teasing Neuvillette further. Their voice dripped with seduction as they whispered, "What if Lady Furina walked in right now, Neuvillette? What if she saw the Iudex of Fontaine in such a compromising position?"

Neuvillette's thoughts were a jumbled mess, and he struggled to maintain some semblance of composure. His usual formality had been abandoned, and he was now fully immersed in the intoxicating moment.

"I-I..." Neuvillette stammered, unable to form a coherent response. Y/N's teasing was driving him to the brink of insanity, but he couldn't bring himself to stop or resist.

Their passionate encounter continued, with Y/N's relentless teasing pushing Neuvillette further into ecstasy. The office, once a place of formality, had become a sanctuary of shared passion, where restraint and decorum had no place.

Y/N reveled in the control they had over Neuvillette, their voice a seductive whisper in his ear. "Tell me, Neuvillette, what would you say to Lady Furina if she walked in right now? How would you explain this?"

Neuvillette's mind was a whirlwind of desire and pleasure, and he struggled to form coherent thoughts. "I... I would..." he began, his voice trembling as he was unable to finish the sentence.

Y/N's laughter was a sultry melody as they continued their relentless assault on Neuvillette's senses. "Would you tell her how much you enjoy being taken like this, Neuvillette? How you crave my touch, my every command?"

Neuvillette's moans grew louder, his resistance crumbling with each passing moment. He couldn't deny the truth of Y/N's words, and his desire for them was all-consuming.

As their passion reached its peak, Y/N's voice took on a commanding tone. "Tell me you're mine, Neuvillette. Say it."

Neuvillette's breaths were ragged, his need overwhelming. "I'm yours," he finally gasped, surrendering completely to Y/N's control.

Y/N's desire was insatiable, and as their passionate encounter with Neuvillette continued, they couldn't resist the urge to explore every inch of his body. With heated urgency, Y/N found himself wanting to feel all of Neuvillette, to experience every sensation in their shared moment of ecstasy.

Their lips locked in a fiery kiss, tongues dancing in a sensual rhythm as they continued their fervent lovemaking. Y/N's hands roamed Neuvillette's body, tracing the contours of his chest and shoulders. His shirt had become an inconvenient barrier to the sensations he craved, and he couldn't bear to wait any longer.

"Turn around, Neuvillette," Y/N whispered breathlessly, his voice dripping with desire.

Neuvillette, lost in the intoxication of their passion, complied, his chest rising and falling heavily. He couldn't help but wonder what Y/N had in mind, his curiosity piqued by their urgency.

Y/N's desire to feel all of Neuvillette was undeniable, and as he attempted to remove Neuvillette's shirt, he found it to be a more complex task than anticipated. The fabric clung to Neuvillette's body, and in his haste, Y/N decided on a more direct approach.

With a swift motion, Y/N slid his hand under Neuvillette's shirt, fingers eagerly seeking the warmth of his skin. His palm pressed against Neuvillette's chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath, and his fingers traced the contours of Neuvillette's pecs.

Neuvillette's gasp of surprise and pleasure was music to Y/N's ears as his hand explored further, fingers brushing against the hardened nubs of Neuvillette's nipples. Their shared ecstasy deepened as Y/N's touch elicited a moan from Neuvillette, his body reacting to the exquisite sensations.

Neuvillette couldn't help but break the passionate silence with a trembling voice, filled with desire and curiosity. "Y/N, what are you doing?"

Y/N's own desire was palpable, his breath hot against Neuvillette's ear as he replied, "I want to feel all of you, Neuvillette. Every inch."

Their bodies pressed together, their connection intensified by the intoxicating sensations coursing through them. Y/N continued to pound with unrelenting fervor, each thrust driving them closer to the brink of ecstasy.

"Haah," Neuvillette moaned, his pleasure building with each passing moment. Y/N's touch and their shared intimacy were overwhelming, and he could no longer contain his desire.

Their passionate encounter continued, the office now a private realm of shared desire and irresistible temptation. The complexities of their desires, the urgency of their actions, and the fervent dialogue between them created an unforgettable tableau of unrestrained passion.

As their passionate encounter reached its climax, Y/N couldn't resist the temptation to tease Neuvillette one final time. Their shared desire had pushed them both to the edge, and Y/N was determined to send Neuvillette over the precipice of ecstasy.

Their breaths were ragged, and their bodies glistened with a sheen of sweat as Y/N whispered provocatively, "I didn't know dragons could be so responsive, Neuvillette."

Neuvillette's moans of pleasure and desire filled the air, his body trembling with anticipation. Y/N had discovered his most sensitive spot, and he was now utterly at their mercy.

With one final, powerful thrust, Y/N hit Neuvillette's prostate with precision, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through him. Neuvillette's eyes widened, and he saw stars explode behind his closed eyelids as pleasure consumed him entirely.

A strangled cry of pleasure escaped Neuvillette's lips as his vision exploded with stars. The sensations coursing through his body were overwhelming, and he couldn't hold back any longer.

His release was powerful, an eruption of pleasure that left him seeing stars as he came, coating his own stomach and shirt with his essence. The intensity of the climax was like nothing he had ever experienced before, and he was left trembling and utterly spent.

After their passionate climax, Y/N couldn't help but look down at Neuvillette, his face flushed with desire, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. He was a vision of post-orgasmic bliss, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath.

With a mischievous smile, Y/N leaned down and left a lingering hickey on Neuvillette's neck, a mark of their intense encounter. Neuvillette gasped at the sensation, a mixture of pleasure and surprise coursing through him.

But before Y/N could savor the aftermath, Neuvillette's expression shifted from one of post-orgasmic bliss to sudden realization and panic. With a start, he quickly sat up, his eyes widening in alarm as he asked in a frantic voice, "What time is it?"

The urgency in Neuvillette's tone was palpable, and Y/N glanced at a nearby clock. His eyes widened as he saw the time, and he couldn't help but curse under his breath. Neuvillette was incredibly late to the meeting, and the implications of his tardiness were not lost on either of them.

Y/N quickly gathered his clothes and helped Neuvillette do the same, their movements hurried and frantic. They exchanged hurried, breathless kisses in between pulling on their clothes, the taste of each other still lingering on their lips.

As Neuvillette finally managed to get dressed, he glanced at Y/N with a mix of regret and longing. "I wish I could stay," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine desire.

Y/N smiled, his fingers tracing Neuvillette's cheek affectionately. "I know," he replied, his own desire evident in his eyes. "But duty calls, and Lady Furina awaits."

Neuvillette nodded, his expression torn between his responsibilities and his longing for Y/N. With a final, lingering kiss, they reluctantly parted ways, knowing that the world outside was waiting for them.

———

Extra:

"Well, well, Neuvillette," Furina purred, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You certainly took your sweet time getting here. Care to explain why you're so fashionably late?"

Neuvillette, still slightly breathless from his passionate encounter with Y/N, struggled to find the right words. He knew that any excuse he offered would likely be met with more of Furina's sharp wit… and probably her wanting to take him to court for being late.

Y/N's earlier teasing echoed in his mind, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement despite the situation. It seemed that both his assistant and Lady Furina had a penchant for teasing him mercilessly.

With a composed facade, Neuvillette finally replied, "My apologies, Lady Furina. I was... caught up in a matter of utmost importance."

Furina's lips curled into a sly smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, I see. A matter of utmost importance, you say? Well, I do hope it was worth the delay."

#sub!neuvillette #neuvillette #genshin impact smut #genshin impact sub #neuvilette smut #sub genshin #sub!neuvilette #genshin smut #dom reader

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zh-lele · 10 months

Text

TOO FAST (m)

▪︎Pairing: Mark Lee x female reader

▪︎Genres: angst, romance, street racing au, friends with benefits trope

▪︎Warnings: graphic descriptions and mentions of death, blood, violence, drug use, and depression; profanity; sexual and suggestive content. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Contains spoilers of previous parts of the series.

▪︎Word count: 12.6k words

playlist | Pictures taken by Taeyong | Drifting series

Hi everyone! New installment of my Drifting series is up :) This is Mark's part and happens right after Haechan's story, so it's filled with spoilers (if you haven't read that one yet.) I don't really think you need to read Haechan's part to understand what happens around here, but if you want, please go check 'We ridin'' that's also liked in my masterlist. Also, this fic is pretty graphic so please read warnings and don´t proceed if you feel uncomfy with any of the themes treated here. Without much more to say, I hope you enjoy this story!

0. That's a pretty big trunk on my Lincoln Town Car, ain't it?

No matter how much weight he pulls off of his car, Mark can't get to drive freely around anymore. The backseats are gone, and the truck is empty before he starts the race. And you are waiting for him at the end of the road when he makes it first to the finish line, a big smile plastered on your face while looking at him. Everybody quickly starts cheering for him and throwing money to his face. And he tries hard. He tries so hard to enjoy it and be happy behind the steering wheel like he used to do, but he can't find to be able to.

Don't they see it too?

The car's trunk filled with bodies like a Hearse. The steering wheel bleeding, painting Mark's shaky hands in red. His swollen eyes wet with tears. All those scattered pieces on the pavement… And he can never get rid of the weight because he is the one carrying all that heaviness that won't let him breathe, no matter how empty he wants to leave the car.

He rubs his face up and down in frustration, mixing the blood and the tears until he turns, looking back at the destroyed vehicle. Hanging off the open trunk it's his head, open and misshapen, covered in blood, exactly as Mark had last seen him. It feels like a nightmare. He prays and begs to God for it to be a nightmare, please let it be a nightmare.

Your smile dissipates as soon as you lock eyes with him. Mark blinks once to let the tears roll down his cheeks and wet your hands that cup his face. When he realizes it wasn't a nightmare but a distorted memory of reality, the uncontrollably sobs come. So you hold him in your arms in the middle of messy bed sheets, trying to deal with the melancholy of another sleepless night taking care of your hurt best friend.

Mark's memories haunt him. Ever since the accident happened, you're sure he hasn't got a full night of sleep, and you hardly remember the last time you did. If he's not racing or partying until the sun comes out early in the morning, he's constantly trying to fall asleep and repeatedly being awakened by these nightmares, these horrible memories being manifested in his dreams, and getting scared by only closing his eyes in the dark.

The yellow light on the old nightstand illuminates very dimly the small hotel room where Mark has been living for the last time, and where you have found yourself returning more often than usual. Everything is messy and dirty. Mark's clothes sit piled up in a mountain on a chair in the corner of the room, and the tabletop cannot be seen due to the number of boxes and empty fast food packages left behind, not being cleaned for months now. To your left, the nightstand is littered with boxes of twenty Marlboro cigarettes, empty as well; broken lighters, and a dirty glass pipe with traces of a substance you haven't quite figured out yet and are afraid to do so.

Your best friend won't talk much to you despite having you coming back to his bed every night, but you don't need that to believe he's depressed.

You remember how it started. How you got yourself into the same hole.

—

Inside the small apartment the air felt thick and humid. The dim colored lights coming from the speaker did a poor job of outlining a tall silhouette in front of you. Your body was sweaty, your feet ached from standing for so many hours, and your heart beat faster than normal. Maybe it was tiredness. Maybe it was because of the sound vibrations of fast electronic music resonating with the movement of your heart muscle. Or maybe it was because of the joint that Yuta left between your fingers after exhaling all the smoke in your face, and you didn't hesitate to repeat his actions.

You couldn't wait to leave. You also couldn't allow yourself to touch any kind of surface because you knew that as soon as you leaned against a wall or an armchair, you wouldn't be able to get up again. It might not have been the smartest decision at the time to grab the glass of vodka Yuta was holding in his hands and finish it in one gulp, but you would have done anything to make the time go by faster.

And it worked, actually. It's hard to even remember the kind of music that started playing after that moment. What you remember exactly, however, something you can't erase from your memories of that night is what Mark looked like.

The color in his electric blue hair had already begun to fade, and his bangs clung to his forehead from all the humidity. Even with his unkempt appearance and the sleeves of his t-shirt rolled up to his shoulders, revealing toned arms that glistened under a fine sheen of sweat. None of it took away from his undeniable appeal. None of that mess was meant to make you walk away from him and forget how he felt that night. Like being drunk on Mark. As if all your senses were reduced to perceiving him, and only him. When did he even appear on your side?

"You're all wet."

"It's from all the dancing," Mark said, moving his face away from yours, just enough to keep supporting your waist with one hand, and wipe the sweat that had transferred from his cheek to yours with the other.

His closeness allowed you to perceive the smell of alcohol and cigarettes that emanated from his body. Firm muscles under his clothes that you couldn't have failed to notice all night, couldn't help but feel at that moment under your touch. An innocent enough tact, with intentions to keep dancing to whatever was playing. He couldn't know how much you liked him. You were best friends for fuck's sake. And no matter how many times you imagined it, there would never be another reality where you could be more than best friends. Furthermore, you were both too intoxicated to cross the line and then be able to return to your comfort zone. You knew you wouldn't be able to come back once you allowed yourself to get to know Mark in any other way.

"You know what's missing tonight?"

Mark had won the race that night. Five grand that were going straight to his wallet and his pride. That had Yuta celebrating and patting at Mark's back when he made it out of the car with a smile on his face to wrap him in a tight hug. A victory that would give Mark a moment of reassurance, that would distract him only for a second from all the horrible things that were actually going on in his life.

Despite all fears of ending up alone and punished by all his friends, life showed Mark everyday that he was wrong. Yuta chose to keep in contact with him even after the accident and after Johnny got mad at Mark. You were still around him too. And he was still a successful street racer that made thousands per night and allowed himself to have fun with a bunch of pretty girls. So yeah, you would've never guessed the words that came out of Mark Lee's mouth after that. You would've never imagined that what that night was missing was–

"A kiss from you," he answered himself, letting out a heavy breath and leaning dead-weight on you. "Just one kiss?"

That simple line was all it took to take your breath away. He was that powerful, and you kind of hated yourself for allowing him. You thanked in silence for the lack of lights in the living room, because your temperature rising and getting your face all red would've given you away.

"I don't know." You were honest with him. It was kind of ironic inside of your head, how much you wanted him yet you couldn't decide if you wanted to act on that desire. There were pros and cons.

On one hand, you would've done anything for Mark to feel better, to let him out of that dark void you saw him getting in, deeper every day. Anything for him. On the other hand, you knew how the story goes, from your friends and because you saw it in enough movies; casualty never works when there's feelings involved. You didn't have to experience it to know it wouldn't mean just a drunken kiss to you, just a little fun. It was gonna end up hurting, dragging you in like a cult, a bad religion.

It felt like years, the time you were thinking about what to say to him. "I really don't know."

"C'mon," he was persistent, getting his head off the crook of your neck and staring right into your eyes, then dropped the sight to your lips. And he left it there while he kept mumbling. "One lil' kiss."

How many things could ruin a silly, drunken kiss between friends at a party?

Your eyes met Yuta for a brief moment, before you saw him raise his eyebrows at you, an expression that said 'Are you really doing this?' on his face, and then saw him leave the room.

The thing is, you had liked Yuta since the very first moment you saw him and had been fooling around ever since. He's a true gentleman. He's fun to be around but centered enough to give you all the calmness you might need at the end of a stressful day. He's good enough to give you some of the best fucks of your life as well. He has a good job, no bad habits, and he gives you enough space. Anyone could say Yuta is the perfect candidate. If Mark wouldn't even look at you but happened that Yuta proposed to you, you would probably agree to be his girlfriend in a second.

You wanted to tell Mark no. You truly wanted to be faithful to whatever you had with Yuta. But you had loved Mark since forever. And that was different.

Now you believe you would've never had to accept that kiss from Mark Lee that night because, spoiler: after one kiss, you weren't able to stop.

So it happened one, two, three, four, five, countless times until you finally found the solution to Mark's sleeping situation. Sometimes it required a lot of alcohol, sometimes it required him to have something to smoke. But what never changed was that it had to start with a kiss and follow with a lot of your attention. It always ended with you and him, skin to skin to his bed sheets. He gets a night's full sleep, and you usually get a headache from all the overthinking.

—

When you feel that his breathing has become heavy again and his grip around your torso loosens, you confirm that Mark has gone back to sleep. The clock on the wall above the window reads 05:02 in the morning, and if Mark doesn't have another nightmare in the next hour, he may be able to sleep until the sun comes up.

Carefully and almost moving in slow motion, you slip from his grasp to get up from the bed. Your friend has been feeling exhausted for months now, and no matter how many hours he sleeps, he never manages to recover. That's what he tells you all the time: that he's exhausted from being exhausted, from wanting to rest and not being able to. So when you finally get him to drift off to sleep, the last thing you want is to wake him up.

You grab your pillow and place it filling the space that your body occupied between his arms, so he doesn't feel alone. You're not going anywhere but to sit on the dirty old couch in the next room. Mark's room and the space functioning as the entrance to the motel room are only separated by a thin wall of wood and plaster, and a curtain. If he happens to wake up again in the next few hours, you will be able to listen to him without any problem and return to him immediately.

When you turn on the yellow light in the gloomy bathroom—which door is broken so you won't even bother trying to close it—, the scene at the entrance lights up and you spot the figure laying on the couch. You wait for the glass to fill with water to turn off the tap in the sink and turn off the light, plunging the room into darkness again. The water runs hot and is of little help in quenching your thirst, but that's all you have for now until the convenience store near the motel opens.

Despite the darkness, you can see a large pair of eyes watching your every move carefully. He must have woken up because of Mark's nightmare, just like you. Coincidentally, in the small couch there is a space where you know you fit perfectly, so you take it and lie down next to him. The sides of your bodies rub against each other because it's a small couch afterall, and even when you can start to feel the heat of the morning you would like to get closer, snuggle into him, to wrap yourself in his arms and sleep together forever. But you're not going to do anything because Mark is only a curtain away. Also, because you were pretty sure he didn't want you anymore, not after you practically stopped seeing him the moment you started fucking Mark.

"Have you talked to Johnny?"

You turn your head to set your eyes on Yuta, lying on the couch still with all his clothes on, one arm acting as a pillow under his head. His long lashes brush his cheeks every time he blinks, and his chest rises and falls in a calm, controlled breath. Just looking at him gives you all the peace you are missing, making you sleepy. And you want to sleep, oh how you want to sleep for endless hours.

He shakes his head no.

"I feel like… I don't know, Mark really needs him right now."

There is a long silence in which you roll onto your side to keep looking at him. His eyes, now closed, make you think he has fallen asleep until he finally opens his mouth to speak.

"Johnny doesn't want to know anything about Mark." Yuta turns his head to look at you this time. His gaze is soft but holds all the truths you don't like to think of, so you can't do much more than moving your head down with a frown in your brows, and keep listening to him. "What he did to Haechan was stupid, put all of us in danger."

Memories of that night are fresh in your brain for two reasons. The first one, is that you interacted with Yuta for the first time that night, and things just escalated between the two of you from there. The second reason has to do with the fact that, all that happened back then, was Mark's breaking point.

1. You hit them stones and you broke your home

At the center of the closed road, the pavement was already painted with traces of burnt tires forming circular patterns. As the candy-colored cars drifted and slided and had all the people filming and celebrating around them, you really couldn't think of a worse way to waste your tires. It's a passion they seem to have, that you yet have to get to understand.

You observed Mark work frantically on his car, making you feel like there wasn't enough time. All his movements were too rushed, and his eyes moved around the crowd with a paranoid look. The rest of the team was counting the money, looking for someone to flag, taking the seats out of the car to make it as light as possible, moving the people from the middle of the street. You could already hear some sirens far in the distance, getting closer and closer.

"Mark, hurry up!"

Getting off an orange car with the windows all black, a voice rushed Mark to start the race. He had that spine-chilling look despite his totally relaxed walk, looking like he owned the streets. He was the protagonist of a bunch of stories Mark had told you about his friends. And you knew Mark admired and respected Johnny a lot. But Yuta... Yuta has always been something else to Mark. Something like his weakness, and it showed in the way he talked about him and behaved around him. "I can show you some pics, but you can't like him more than me," was how he always ended conversations about him.

You really tried to listen to your friend. You really tried not to get interested in the handsome guy giving him the last directions before the first race of the night. But you had to know him personally, had to get close to him. You wished it would have been under different circumstances, though.

A few minutes later, everything was ready for the race to start. Mark had to drive a few miles straight down the road, take an impromptu hairpin turn, and be back in front of your eyes safe and sound.

After the accident he got into with his friend Taeyong, everyone thought Mark would be too scared to drive again, at least for a while. But it was the complete opposite; he got careless and more reckless. Mark was sad and mad, and he used the races as a coping mechanism, among other things.

You, however, were worried and scared for him.

"I don't know why I agreed to come with you," you spoke with your arms crossed as you saw Mark walking towards you. He was wearing a subtle smile, and you could see how his face got rid of all that paranoia as soon as he found your eyes.

He wrapped you in a hug that forced you to uncross your arms to join them behind his head, reciprocating the gesture. "Thank you for coming," Mark told you so only you could hear him, and tightened the grip of his arms around your torso. "But you don't have to stay if you don't like it. I can ask one of the guys to get you home."

You took a look around separating yourself from him, and thought about his offer for a second. Johnny seemed busy dealing with all the bets for that night's race, so you doubted he could take you home. Jaehyun was racing too, so neither him or Mark were gonna drive you. Johnny's sister didn't own a car, so she wasn't an option. The only one who seemed like he wasn't occupied was Yuta, who was looking at the two of you with an unreadable expression, sitting on top of his car hood, probably just waiting for Mark to stop delaying the race.

You kinda, definitely wanted Yuta to take you home, to ride together and maybe chat a little on the way. To finally get to know him—and maybe exchange a kiss or two before you would come out of his car and walk to your door.

But that wasn't happening that night.

"No fucking way."

The crowd went silent. The only sound traveling through the thick summer atmosphere was the sound of the engines. No one needed him to get out of the bright yellow car to know who he was. Nonetheless, he got the audacity to do it.

"Didn't I fucking tell you," Johnny's voice was filled with rage, speaking directly to him, "that I don't want to see you around ever again?"

"I'm gonna fucking kill him." You heard Mark whisper in front of you.

"You're not doing shit." You grabbed Mark's jaw trying to get him to look at you, but his eyes were locked on Haechan. His hands left your waist to become fists at his sides, ready to attack if you weren't holding him back and speaking in his ear, trying to maintain your composure. "If you do anything to him, we're not gonna see the end of it."

But the truth was you wanted to beat him to pieces probably as much as Mark wanted to.

"Just one race!" Haechan got off his car speaking to Johnny with open arms, palms facing the night sky. "For the old times?"

"But…" Mark rested his eyes on you again, and you could almost see yourself reflected in the accumulation of tears that threatened to fall at any moment. He spoke only for you, "Taeyong is dead because of him."

People went crazy after hearing Haechan ask for a race. Three months had passed since the accident and, since then, neither Haechan nor the Lees had dared to roam the same streets as the Suhs and his friends. Of course, people like watching other people fight, they enjoy the gossip and the problems, so it didn't take long for the crowd to start betting on Haechan as the winner of that night. Johnny had no choice but to get his team to race against the Lees, to remind them again that he didn't want them around, and that it was just a one time thing.

"Listen," Johnny held Mark's face in his hands and spoke directly to his eyes, "you're gonna race and you're gonna make it to the finish line intact. I don't give a fuck about who's winning. I just want you to finish, so he can get the fuck out of here before I lose my mind and rip his face off."

Mark nodded quickly a few times. It was clear he was nervous—from the way he grabbed and squeezed the steering wheel with his hands, and settled back and forth in the seat, impatient for the race to end when it hadn't even started.

"Don't you–" a bit of embarrassment creeped into his voice and cut him half way into the sentence, making him gulp dry before proceeding. "Don't you have something for me? I'm just feeling a little low," he finished asking, his narrowed eyes barely daring to look at his older brother.

Johnny let out a heavy sigh and moved his head to look above Mark's car, into the racing scene, and pondered on it for a moment. Honestly, he never thought he could be the best leader or the best older brother, but he managed to convince himself he was doing pretty fine, until the Donghyuck thing happened. Not that Donghyuck thing, the one that had to do with his sister and later with Taeyong. But the Donghyuck thing that made the big family they all were before break apart, and split into two rival groups. Something happened in that moment that Johnny felt made him fall apart; he lost all that confidence he once had. It only got worse when Donghyuck got with his sister, though, and he took Taeyong with him too, and now he felt like he was losing Mark as well.

Johnny reached into the front pocket of his jeans and held the small bag there for a few seconds, while debating whose fault it was, and thinking about how he could stop ruining his family. Back then, he had no clear answer. He felt like Mark was fucked up enough already. And because he loves him unconditionally, he just did what he thought was best for Mark at the time.

He ended up taking the small bag from his front pocket and tossing it to Mark, who quickly grabbed it with both hands and didn't even thank Johnny before he was closing his tinted windows on his friend's face.

Johnny thought that even if it was the wrong thing to do, he himself would help Mark sober up later, because he couldn't dare lose any more brothers.

You watched the entire exchange from afar. From Mark positioning himself in line with Jaehyun, Haechan and another boy's cars at his sides, until Johnny and Yuta joined you with the same worried look that your eyes wore.

There was a constricting sensation in your chest, a pressure watching that scene unfold that made your voice tremble. "I have a bad feeling about this."

You know what they say, that there are friends with whom you live certain things, and friends with whom you are part of other things. Haechan, Mark and you were all good friends once, way back in high school, but after they parted ways you decided not to get involved in their illegal activities. You barely knew this side of Mark's life, most of it since he loved his friends so much and always told you everything about them. He tried to integrate you as much as possible when situations called for it: birthdays, casual meetings at Johnny's garage, and parties. But all that pretty far from the street racing scene, that being the first time he actually invited you to go watch him race after years.

"Don't worry," Johnny said to you at the same time his sister was positioning herself at the middle of the starting line, ready to give them the direction. "They know what they have to do very well.

And as soon as she lowered her arms, the cars sped off, leaving a huge cloud of smoke in front of you that obstructed your view for a few seconds.

"They will be driving in a straight line for about a kilometer," he continued. "Then they will reach a crossroads and must take the path to the right, we will lose sight of them at that moment."

"But if they do everything right and don't cause any trouble, we'll see them come out of that other corner." Yuta pointed at a corner a few blocks from you with a blinking yellow traffic light while explaining to you. "And someone will make it right here first. The winner."

You assumed that you managed to make him feel your intense gaze on him, and that made his eyes meet yours. His arms crossed while still leaning on the hood of his car. He noticed your nervousness.

"Relax," his voice was soft while speaking to you. A smile adorned his face when he invited you to sit with him, right beside his body on top of the orange hood. "Let's root for our team."

You nodded with your head at him and chose to remain silent. While you waited to see your friend return, you reached in the back pocket of your pants for the small box and the lighter, and lit a cigarette. It was the best thing you could think of to pass the time.

"You're a smokestack."

Your eyes widened hearing that. You didn't take it as an insult, since when you turned around and saw Yuta's face you only found a playful smile. But you still decided to take a long drag on the cigarette, blow out all the smoke, and then ask him in an offended tone.

"Excuse me?"

"You smoke too much," he said nonchalantly, jumping off the car and standing right in front of you.

His eyes traveled from your legs hanging off his hood, to your hand holding the cigarette, to your chest and lastly your face in a matter of milliseconds. A quick check out that awakened a whole new rush of adrenaline and nervousness to your body. A stare that only sent shivers down your spine, so you tried to play it cool and straighten your back, wanting to reach the level of his face.

"And how would you know?"

You made an effort not to let the conversation die. Ever since Mark told you about them and showed you photos of his friends, you had wanted to meet Yuta. Walking across him at Johnny's house or at random parties had never been enough. Firstly, because Yuta was rarely alone. And secondly, because when he was alone you would never have thought of being the first to approach him and talk to him.

Because you weren't expecting it from Yuta—the only friend of Mark that was quiet and mysterious enough that you had never struck up a conversation with—it took you a couple of seconds to process the words that came out of his mouth.

"I've been watching you." Yuta took your hand that was holding the cigarette and held it very gently in between his. Enough to notice how yours trembled.

Yuta definitely didn't have to do that to notice how anxious you were. But then you would understand how powerful his energy is and how physical contact becomes completely necessary and inevitable when he is around. That you didn't even need to say a word for him to notice you were attracted to him—you were painfully obvious around Yuta. It became ridiculous the way you lost yourself watching him talk and just mind his business. Yuta loved every second of it.

He would finally return all that attention to you later.

"You may fancy me." He took the cigarette off your hand and took a puff. "But you really, really love Mark."

You sighed deeply and looked down as you felt the heat rise and tint your cheeks. You didn't dare look at him when you spoke again. "I'm seriously that obvious?"

Yuta muttered positively and you could hear him smiling. That attractive teasing smile he always wore but paired with the softest looking eyes, that you knew could mean no harm.

"The problem is… I like Mark."

You couldn't help but laugh when you heard him, since you definitely weren't expecting that outcome. He only smiled while seeing you laugh.

"But he won't pay enough attention to me," he continued with a shrug. "So I thought, maybe you wanna do something with me after this?"

"So, I'm the second choice," you established, crossing your arms and putting on a straight face.

Yuta shook his head, still wearing his little attractive smile. "No, I was just joking," he reassured you. "I think you're interesting, and you're hot, so I wanna know you."

The cigarette came back to your hands right before Yuta was blowing all the smoke he had inhaled on your face. He was being pretty clear, you had no doubt at that point.

So you filled yourself up with a little courage, smiled big, took a puff of that nicotine and said, "Alright, we're going to mine."

"Sounds lovely."

Is the unexpected screeching of tires locking up what deafens your ears, bringing you and Yuta out of your little bubble to find another cloud of smoke blocking your view. Only seconds pass after the smoke clears into the air, and Mark's car comes to rest in line with Haechan's, giving your friend second place in the race.

It all happened way too quickly. One moment Mark was getting out of his car, violently closing its door and getting every person out of his way. The next moment he was above Haechan's body on the street, beating the life out of him.

Mark seemed uncontrollable, out of his mind. It took not only Johnny and Yuta to separate him from Haechan's bleeding face, but Jaehyun had to get out of his car and intervene as well. It was him trying to restrain Haechan's friends from coming and beating Mark, while Johnny's sister cried and screamed besides her lover, who wore that typical wicked, cynical smile on his bloody-dripping mouth. It was absolute chaos.

"I'm going to kill you! I swear to God, you won't mess with any of my friends ever again because I'll fucking kill you!"

After a lot of struggling and missed punches (that almost ended in yours and the boys' faces) coming from an extremely euphoric Mark, they managed to lock him in the back seat of Yuta's car. Johnny ordered Yuta to take him away, and that he didn't want to see his face in the neighborhood until the situation calmed down. It was a little cruel, the way he kicked Mark out of the house they shared, but you understood. Mark was still too hurt and resentful of Taeyong's death, but Johnny knew that trying to get revenge on the Lees would only start an endless war. Or maybe cause an ending that would badly hurt them again, and Johnny was tired of losing brothers.

A tall boy with a thin face and raven hair pointed to Mark, and that same index finger he rested on the skin of his neck moved across, from right to left. You're dead, but Mark wouldn't listen to it, still sitting in the back seat of the car.

"Jeno, let's leave this shitty place," Haechan said once he was back on his feet, blood spitting, staining his shirt and even the ground.

Haechan and his friends (including Johnny's sister) left with a promise to come back for them.

Johnny was on his right to get extremely mad at Mark. Because that was the exact reason he didn't do anything to Haechan in the first place, that one night he had him at gunpoint in the rain. He could've ended him right there, but he knew what would've come. And that was the difference between the Lees and the Suhs: Johnny cared for his people—because yes, Haechan was his people once, just as Taeyong was when he was alive. He didn't want anyone to get even more hurt.

So now they have to deal with the fear of the Lees coming for them, because they know the gang has become weak. Johnny doesn't have his sister anymore, he doesn't have Taeyong, he doesn't have Mark, and Yuta is barely there because he spends most of the time with you or Mark. And that guilt is eating your best friend alive.

It was dawn by the time you and Yuta tossed an exhausted Mark into the motel bed where he would spend the next few months. While he passed out as soon as he touched the mattress, you came down from the adrenaline rush in the form of shaking and crying.

That same night you brought Mark to the motel, after you put him to sleep, Yuta and you drank and smoked until you calmed down and then made out until any of you had energy to go on. You liked him and wanted everything with him. But Yuta was a very patient and understanding person. He made that clear from the very first moment you met properly.

You may fancy me, but you love Mark.

And yes, maybe fucking around with Yuta was fun from time to time, until that guilt started eating you alive.

Now you look at Yuta, laying on the motel couch centimeters from you, yet he feels like he's miles away. You think you miss him, his security and the sense of stability you had when you were with him. These days he comes to check on Mark, make sure you're both not starving, maybe share a beer or a cigarette with you, and he leaves. He still does all that even after you dropped him to fuck your best friend, that is one of his best friends too.

But when Yuta leaves you're back to your miserable hole, praying that Mark won't die from an overdose tonight, or that won't leave and come back hours later with some other girl, kicking you out so he can fuck because he's suddenly tired of the routine, then calling you at ungodly hours because he can't sleep without you.

The japanese boy calls your name. A fine film of sweat covers his smooth skin and is visible in the dim light of dawn, which filters through the hideous lace curtains. His eyes tell you that he's about to reveal that truth that you don't want to hear, but he's going to be brutally honest anyway.

"You need to get out of here."

2. I'm talking fear, fear of missing out on you and me/I don't think I could find a way to make it on this earth

Mark had always been very careful. The most careful of all, in fact—not just when it came to racing, but in every aspect of his life. When he drove, when he served customers in Johnny's garage, when he would go out with the boys and have to take care of a drunk Taeyong, he was the most careful. You know he was always very careful in the way he treated girls too, because Mark did everything with love.

It isn't fair what happened to him. It made him start doing things with fear. Fear of missing out on things, fear of losing, fear of hurting people, fear of God. You can taste the fear in him, because lately everytime you connect your lips it feels like he's kissing you for the last time ever.

He holds your face and steals a long, soft kiss from your lips. Eyes squeezed shut while he deepens it and gets his tongue to explore inside your mouth. None of it is rushed nor violent, in contrast with how he usually ends up fucking you. And you like this side of Mark, the one that kinda feels like he's doing it to you with love instead of fear, but you know you can't get too attached to it.

Or at least more attached than you already are.

Mark moves his hands from your face to your back, and caresses the skin there for a moment, before hugging the middle of your torso and pushing you flush against his. Your naked breasts collide with his equally naked chest, and his skin burns yours. He's restricting you from moving now, so he angles his hips pressing his feet on the mattress and starts thrusting up into you. It's a gentle pace, but all the alcohol and the weed in your system only make you feel him ten times intensified, ten times deeper. You tug on his long hair, bite and suck on his neck trying to contain all the sounds that want to escape from your mouth, yet the pleasure is too much and more than one manages to slip and mix with Mark's whines.

You're kinda embarrassed when you come after what feels like only five minutes that passed since you sat on top of Mark.

He feels you clench and become tight around him, so he stops his movements for a moment until you catch your breath. You know he's not done with you, just trying not to hurt you from the overstimulation. After one intense orgasm heavily loaded with feelings, you're exhausted. But this has always been about him. You need to make sure he will go back to sleeping peacefully. So you get off him and lay beside his body, before Mark takes position between your legs and buries himself inside you one more time.

He doesn't need to do much, doesn't need to say anything at all. You and him have gotten to explore each other's bodies for months now, you both know damn well that you're gonna come again, and after that you're gonna let him finish making a mess all over you.

What Mark would've never expected was seeing those thick tears run down your face, that you quickly tried to swipe off before he could ask anything about it. Even if sometimes it doesn't show, Mark loves and cares for you, so he's gonna ask anyway.

"Love," he calls for you and stops his movements. You open your eyes, lashes feeling heavy with the weight of the tears on them, and see his worried face right on top of yours. His hair is messy, his neck sweats and a silver necklace with a couple of charms hangs from it, somehow making Mark look even more attractive than usual. "I didn't hurt you, right?" A deep frown takes over his features.

You feel bad for ruining such a moment like this. You answer, shaking your head no.

"Please tell me the truth."

You shake your head no once again, wrapping your arms around him to tug and make him collapse his weight on you.

Love. The pet name replays in your head like a scratched CD and you wish you could turn it off to finally go to sleep. Mark calls your name and props himself up in his arms to look at you. He's still waiting for an explicit reply to his question.

How could you tell him that you were crying because you never felt so much love for someone in your entire life, without scaring him away? How could you explain to him that you understand it was all in your head, because you know he is too broken to even love to that same extent?

"I'm fine," you finally tell him and grab his face to give his lips one last, deep kiss. "Crying 'cause it's too good."

He shows a subtle smile and makes an effort to observe how the morning light illuminates your skin, with his eyes full of sleep, drunk on alcohol and your body and barely open. It's an image he wants to remember because, for some reason, it also feels to him like it could be the last time he gets to be with you like this.

"You sure?"

You nod and smile subtly in response, and move his fingers to make him touch you, in hope you can overcome the pain of loving too hard with the pleasure.

"Wanna give me one more?" His lips get your neck and collarbones all wet while he works on bringing you to the edge. His name manages to come out of your mouth in between gasps. "The last one?"

After both of you finally finish, Mark collapses on your side, half of his body still curled up to you, and calls your name softly. You hear his voice getting filled with fatigue.

"Mhm?"

"Thank you," he says in a whisper. Next thing you know, his breathing has become heavy again and his little snores can be heard in the silent motel room.

The story repeats itself, and you curse yourself and despair for not being able to even shut your eyes closed when you're exhausted. You're overthinking again. Hours go by with barely a couple of hours of sleep, and soon you have to get up to leave food ready for Mark and continue with your life outside these four walls.

3. Permission to crash, collecting damages, boy

The metal stairs creak under your shoes as you go up to the motel room, carefully not to slip because of the night's drizzle. The walk to the room where Mark has been staying feels longer than usual, maybe because you're extremely tired, and don't even remember the last time you got to sleep for an entire night by now, always interrupted by something—if it isn't because of Mark's nightmares, it's because you're either out with him and friends or catching up with missed work instead of sleeping. You can't wait to make it through his door, find him sleeping (with a little luck) and pass out on his bed beside him.

That old clock hanging on the wall indicates 10:27 p.m.. Inside, the room is extremely quiet. If it weren't for the mess around every surface, and the image of Mark's legs knocked out on the bed that you can perceive through a thin curtain separating the bedroom and the common area, you would believe the space is completely empty, abandoned.

The small table that Mark uses to eat is almost imperceptible for all the garbage that has accumulated there. Empty beer bottles, packs with leftover food, cigarettes, dirty napkins, his car keys and even some clothes cover the surface. You wonder how Mark continues to use the table when you're not there, or if he's just using it to leave stuff .

The delivery bags will serve to collect all the waste and clean up the environment a bit. Your friend has been going through a difficult time for a while now, and of course it's hard for him to do simple tasks like keeping the place where he lives clean and tidy. You don't even think about it much when you propose yourself to give him a helping hand while he sleeps; throwing everything that seems useless and dirty into the bags, and leaving it in the bins on the street. You hope Mark will feel more uplifted when he wakes up, finding himself in a slightly nicer, more livable place.

He's in a deep sleep leaning on his side, and watching him breaks your heart. You like it when Mark sleeps naturally. Even when he passes out from being extremely exhausted, you prefer it instead of when he goes to sleep after injecting that destructive drug right into his veins. On his bedside table is the glass syringe, the lighter, the aluminum foil. On the floor, in the space between the rickety bed and the little table, a plate with lines of half-consumed cocaine and the belt of his pants.

He doesn't even care enough to hide it anymore. It breaks your heart some more.

In an impulsive act, you grab whatever is there that has been destroying him, Yuta and you. Everything that has been making life difficult for everyone, ever since Taeyong left, since Johnny kicked Mark out, and your friend fell even harder into that pit.

You flush it down the toilet. Tears run down your cheeks, and the sound of the water taking everything down the drain mixes with your sobs. At the same time, the lights from the garbage truck outside the motel come in through the bedroom window, blinding your view a bit. Nothing is left.

With shaky hands, you open the window and light up a cigarette, in hope of calming down a little. Every day that passes is becoming harder to understand how you made it this far. You can't imagine how worse it could be if you weren't there for him, or if Yuta wasn't with Mark too.

One cigarette is consumed after another, until the ashtray is almost full and you stop because your chest starts to hurt. Mark's voice is present in the room; he calls your name dragging it full of confusion.

Here begins the story of how everything you two once were ended in a few minutes, too fast. Or perhaps the fall was anticipated, but no one knew how to cushion it.

"What happened here?" he asks hoarsely, clearly struggling to fully open his eyes, despite the place being subtly illuminated by the street lights peeking through the windows.

"Just did a little cleaning," you answer, letting the smoke out of your lungs. You said to yourself it would be the last one of the night, but something about the situation is making you slightly anxious.

Mark only nods in response and keeps turning around in his place, taking everything in. He ruffles his head in a poor attempt at fixing the bed hair, scratches the back of neck down to his arm. It's nerve-wracking—seeing him act so natural after having passed out for you don't know how many hours, at the risk of overdosing and dying alone, choking on his own vomit.

It fills you with rage inside how inconsiderate he's been lately, but you're exhausted and don't plan on fighting tonight.

"You coming back to bed?"

"No, sorry," he says when you're already on your way to the bedroom. The clarity in his voice tone indicates to you he's wide awake now. "I have a race in like an hour or so."

You sit on his side of the bed to finally take your shoes off and start undressing. A heavy sigh unconsciously escapes you, and you have to ask him. You've been thinking for a couple weeks now that it would be good for him if he just left the racing scene, only for a while until he fully recovers from all the pain he's gone through. If it all started with it, the answer should be there too, ending it.

"Why do you do that?" You watch his figure enter the room. "Why do you keep racing?" Your questions come out a little exasperated, the tiredness getting the worst out of you even when you don't mean to sound rude.

"Why do I keep racing? How do you think I'm paying for the fucking expenses right here?"

His tone disorients you for a moment, making you believe that your question may, in fact, have been inappropriate. "Sorry, I just- I just thought you could get a job that makes you feel a little more normal, you know?" you propose, almost as if you're afraid of how he might react. "Give you a routine, make you feel better."

"No," he answers quickly, shaking his head low. "Racing is the only thing that makes me feel alive right now. That, and"– he doesn't finish his sentence. Instead, he gulps dryly and keeps his thoughts only for himself.

You know it's better not to push it. Because he's not good with words, and because you don't think you're capable of dealing with whatever other emotions Mark could be going through right now.

You love Mark endlessly. You're sure the only thing that's wrong right now is that work drained you. You could have this conversation in the morning.

"And you? Why do you do it?" he decides to ask without looking you in the eye.

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you keep playing with Yuta and me at the same time?"

The question makes your heart stop and your stomach turn, but you try not to show it.

"That's seriously the last thing I needed to hear today."

You finish saying the sentence and move to the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth, ignoring the eyes of Mark following you from his spot in the bedroom. Too familiar with his look on you only wearing your underwear. Too used to Mark's bad mood after putting substances into his body until he falls unconscious. Too guilty because, in fact, you've been feeling confused about the two boys.

"I know you like him. I– I can feel it. I saw you laying so close early, saw the way you looked at him."

It makes your head hurt, and you squeeze your eyes shut trying to, somehow, ease the pain away. Yes, of course there has always been something about Yuta. Something about the calmness and security you feel when you're together. Something about the love you see he has for Mark that you wish someone had for you. Something about his kisses and touches and the look in his eyes that feel safe. Because Mark was your best friend once, your unconditional support; you were each other's until you weren't anymore. You just started to take care of him and to fall for him harder, and harder. You only became his while you lost him and he lost himself in the process. But Yuta somehow was there to make it easier for you, and numb a little part of the pain away.

You still love Mark endlessly, but he's not good for you. You don't love Yuta, but he feels like the right one for you. And you know their brotherhood might come before your friendship—with any of them. You can't ruin that for them only because you can't decide between the two boys.

It's always been easier to ignore all that.

"Can we just– not have this conversation?"

"Are you fucking him too?"

"I'm not." You look up to him as you accommodate yourself on the bed once again, rage filling your insides for the second time that night. "And what the fuck do you care, huh? The fuck do you care about me?"

"I care because I thought you were with me?" he asks, a tone of disbelief in his voice.

"Mark, we never agreed on being exclusive. We didn't even talk this out. We just started fucking because you were too fucking selfish and couldn't even notice what actually happens here"– you get interrupted by him calling your name.

His eyes are fixed on the nightstand that you emptied while he was passed out. And you swallow dryly, afraid to say a word. You can't imagine what he's going to say to you but, from his look, you can be sure it's not nice at all.

"You did a little cleaning," he repeats.

The room stays quiet. Mark starts looking for something around the nightstand—over it, behind it, under the little furniture and in the space around it. Frantically. And calls your name again. This time his voice is shaky, and when he looks at you he's at the verge of tearing up.

You imagined throwing all his drugs away would be hard for him. A risky move. All kinds of reactions were expected.

"Where is Taeyong's necklace?"

"Huh?" discomposure shows in your tone.

"Taeyong's necklace! It was right here, on the nightstand."

You remain quiet while observing him starting to look around the entire motel room. His body has got all tensed up and began shaking in consequence. He empties the drawers, the bags with his clothes, takes the bedsheets off, makes you move to turn the bed and the pillows upside down and checks inside the bathroom too. There's only curses coming out of his mouth and his voice breaks more and more, starting to sob like a little kid in front of your eyes when he realizes the object he's looking for is nowhere around.

He yells your name to get your attention but it only scares you even more. You're terrified of telling him, because you know you've really screwed up this time.

Meeting his teary eyes, yours fill with tears too.

"Mark," you call for him but he's already looking at you, waiting for an explanation.

You remember it now. It had been standing over the little table since you got here for the first time, but you never paid much mind to it—a silver chain that ended in a small cross and a rose, Chrome Hearts style. And that was Taeyong's favorite brand. Mark rarely wears jewelry, yet you have a vague memory of it hanging off his neck the last time you were together. It takes you a second to put two and two together; your heart finally ends up breaking into two pieces.

"I'm sorry." The tears reach your chin. "I took all the trash out."

Mark follows your finger pointing to the window, from which you can see the large garbage containers on the side of the street. Then he turns his head to the left, in the direction of the clock that reads almost twelve at night. He knows that the truck comes around eleven at night to collect all the bags, and he almost always misses it because he's sleeping and ends up accumulating all the trash in the room. Both you and him know everything is gone by the time, including Mark's memory of Taeyong.

He breaks into a desperate cry, which pierces the air and makes your ears and chest ache with his grief. It's so full of anguish, like you've never seen him before, not even when you were burying his friend together.

It takes him to the ground and makes him roll and move, tug at his clothes and his hair violently like he's trying to take the pain off his body, trying to escape the misery. You try to reach out to him to try and comfort him, still a bit in shock since you were the one that caused him this pain. But he doesn't want you near him; he lets you know by slapping you away from his body and throwing everything he finds around him in your direction.

So you step back, clearly afraid he might hurt you in this state. Mark can sense the fear, and the last thing he wants in the world is to hurt you and put you away from him too. Losing you like it happened with his childhood best friend Donghyuck, like it happened with Taeyong, like it happened with Johnny. But he can't tell you. Nothing can come out of his mouth more than those uncontrollably sobs and screams of pain. He can't clear his mind right now.

"I'm sorry," you keep saying while you get dressed and start picking up your things in a rush. "I'm sorry, please forgive me."

He's sitting on the floor, legs curled up to his chest, back to the end of the bed while his arms hang limb to his sides, defeated and body drained from all its energy. His entire face is wet with sweat and tears, and he cries looking at the dirty ceiling.

When you've already left and find yourself in the open corridor, a few room's down from Mark's, guilt washes over your body: you too left him alone, just like you know he's scared of. You manage to take your phone out of your pocket and dial the first number on your recents list with shaky hands.

The need to cry only increases when you hear his voice on the other side of the phone.

"Can you please come by Mark's? Please?" You cover your mouth with one hand trying to hold back the sobs. "I can't deal with this anymore, Yuta. I'm sorry. It's–Mark and I are never gonna work out. It's out of control–"

"Take your car and come home," his voice is soft and calm, despite the rushing sounds in the background. You know he's dropping everything to go where Mark is staying. "Come home and wait for me here, no matter how long it takes."

You nod in response, even when Yuta can't see you through the call.

"And don't worry about Mark, I got him."

4. Gotta let you go/Since you've been gone I've been having withdrawal

The dead had to be visited when they were alive, was what your mother used to say when you were little. The cemetery was never a place that she liked very much, for she never took you to visit and leave flowers for your old, dead uncles and grandparents.

You believe your mother's rejection of the dead had to do with the fear of death itself. The refusal to accept the inevitable: we will all end up right here one day. Under different circumstances, ones having lived longer than others, but dead at last. Even though you believed you had no problem accepting this, entering the place on this spring morning was becoming incredibly difficult. While it's normal to have grandparents dead when you grow up, it never feels normal to lose someone so close to your age.

You can't expect to meet anyone in particular, but you know that at least the vast majority of his friends will be there. It's the anniversary of Taeyong's death, and the morning is fresh. The sun is shining and the roses planted in the park have bloomed, as if they knew they were his favorites. This should be reason enough to walk through the gates and go lay out some flowers for him, as a way of saying thank you for such a splendid day.

The walk up to the place is quiet enough to boggle your mind a bit. The last couple of months you've been working on yourself, trying to stop overthinking things and rebuilding your self-esteem little by little. Mark and you haven't seen each other again after that big fight and after you left the place he was staying. Yuta did God's work that night, and you know Johnny and the rest of the guys helped him the following days—and months. You just stayed out of it. No one really wanted it, no one agreed to it. But it naturally happened, because deep down both of you knew it was the best outcome. Mark understood you had to go away in order for both of you to heal.

It wasn't an easy process.

"Am I a bad person for doing this to him?"

"Well, it's hard to tell what's good or bad, because it depends on who's saying it," the therapist replied.

You looked down as soon as he started talking to you, avoiding his eyes. You remember that you thought you were not going to cry in your first session, that it was going to be difficult to let go and talk about everything that had been hurting you lately. However, as soon as you sat down on his couch, tears began to roll down your cheeks.

"But how do your decisions make you feel?"

"I feel selfish."

It took you a while to learn that looking after yourself wasn't a selfish thing to do, but a completely valid way to maintain your sanity. That you needed to set boundaries with the people you love the most, because even they might hurt you, and because you might end up hurting yourself. It doesn't necessarily mean they are bad people that want to cause you pain, but humans that make mistakes and that are constantly learning how to deal with each other.

Pain is needed. Boundaries are needed. Communication is needed. Self-love is needed. We learn some of the most valuable things of life from all that.

Johnny is the first one to see you arrive. He receives you in silence, with a small smile and a hug. The next to repeat his actions is Jaehyun. Finally, Yuta presses you against his torso and you stay like that for a little longer. The soft skin of his arms envelops you; it's warm and he feels just as safe as you remember. His scent is an odd combination of cotton softener, a manly scent of pine, and cigarettes.

You will be the most grateful to Yuta, forever. He knew where you belonged from the beginning, and helped you clarify your mind to come here and speak to Mark. Not expecting anything, but knowing that whatever would result from that talk should be the best for the two of you.

You can perceive his heart is beating fast, but definitely not as fast as yours when Yuta breaks the hug, looks into your eyes and then to Mark, who is still sitting in front of Taeyong's grave and oblivious to everything that is happening behind him.

The concrete of the bench feels considerably cold compared to the rest of the environment when you sit next to him. There's a moment when you just dedicate yourself to reading Taeyong's name, over and over again on the plate.

It hasn't been easy and it will never be. It makes you rethink things. Decisions, habits, vices, relations. Coming to terms with the death of someone so close to your age. It could be any of you at any moment, so you guess your mother was right: spend time with your loved ones as much as you can while they're alive.

Mark's eyes grow heavy on your profile and you are forced to meet them. He definitely looks healthier. He has recovered some weight, his dark circles have almost completely disappeared, and his hair is back to its natural color, sporting a fresh undercut.

Most impressive, however, is the way he smiles at you and proceeds to lay his head on your shoulder. He lets out a sigh and somehow you feel relieved—he's not mad at you. In fact, he seems to feel fine, comfortable enough to approach you like that. You can't help but let out a deep sigh as well.

He's the first one to talk since you arrived.

"Hi."

"Hi," you reply, almost in a whisper. As if you were to raise your voice, all that harmony would dissipate in an instant.

"I wasn't expecting you." You feel Mark's voice vibrate through your body and reach your ears. It sends a shiver down your spine.

You have missed him so much. The past months have truly been a torture, but you didnt realize how much you needed to feel him this close, to listen to his voice, until this very moment.

"I was hesitant to come."

Mark lifts his head from your shoulder and stares at you for what seems like a minute or two. In a profound way, as if he was looking for something in your eyes, but as if he was gathering the courage to open his mouth and break your heart once and for all, giving this story a true closure. Perhaps about to do what should have happened a long time ago.

He just nods and says, "I'm sorry."

And you wait for it to come. For him to tell you that he's fully recovered now, that he doesn't need you, that you can go and live your life freely with whoever you want and that he will do the same.

"You know that night… The night we had the fight."

"Yes?"

"I said racing was the only thing making me feel alive."

You don't remember it so clearly at first. That night was quite traumatic, so you have to recapitulate and swallow the lump that forms in your throat remembering the events, and how everything about your relationship with Mark exploded in your face.

"I lied," he continues after a pause. "It was being with you. And I was afraid of hurting you and losing you, and I didn't want to lose you because you were the most important thing I had. But that's what ended up happening and–"

Mark can't finish his sentence, so he takes a deep breath. A cigarette appears between his lips, and it's when he struggles to light it up when you notice how abstained he is and how hard he's fighting it, by the incessant shaking of his hands and his sweating. He lets the smoke out of his lungs looking at the grave, remaining silent until he decides he's calmed down enough.

"I really loved you at that time," Mark says and shares the cigarette with you. "I–I still do. I really, seriously don't need you to take care of me anymore. But I want you to be with me."

He says this last sentence reconnecting with your eyes, looking at you the same way he did earlier, when you expected him to break your heart for good. He turns over his shoulder and looks at the boys one by one, who have been watching your exchange in silence until now.

"All of you," and he finishes.

Johnny pats Mark's shoulder and smiles fondly at him, giving him a little squeeze of comfort. "You'll always have us, no matter what happens."

5. Loving you almost feels like something

"And with this," Johnny starts as he places the last box at the entry of your apartment, "I get closer to being completely free for once."

"Dude," Mark tries and fails to sound upset, "can you not be so happy about me leaving your place? You're making me hurt. Like, you could at least lie about you being sad or missing me."

"But I never lie."

Jaehyun's deep laugh is present next to Johnny and he decides to speak, looking at Mark who is now hung up on you, more and more affectionate with you in front of the boys since you formalized your relationship.

"Baby's leaving the nest. Now it's just you and me, Johnny."

Since Mark was moving in with you and Yuta was leaving for Japan, it only left Jaehyun and Johnny at the Suhs' old house. The oldest was happy, because it meant he wouldn't have other three boys going in and out of the place carelessly every time he tries to bring other people home. Johnny loved the boys enormously, but they were all grown now. Maybe it was time they all found their own place to live and just do whatever they want. Jaehyun, however, seems like has no plans of leaving Johnny alone, at least for a little longer.

"Maybe we should become a married couple."

Johnny questions Jaehyun with his eyes for a couple seconds, but after what seemed like the gears of his brain working at full speed, he ends up agreeing. "That could be pretty convenient, actually. Would you cook for me?"

"You know I don't cook."

"Then forget about it."

You and Mark watch the exchange from the outside and can't help but laugh, because they're basically acting like an old married couple already.

"Alright guys," Mark claps his hands to get the boys' attention. "Thank you so much for your help, but I'll be kicking you out now to go celebrate with my girl. You know, all that boyfriend and girlfriend stuff…" He accompanied them with gestures, telling them to walk through the front door.

"Yes, we get it Mark," Johnny answered in a mocking tone. "You've got a girlfriend and you're fucking on every surface of this apartment. And I'm leaving with Jae, and we're getting stoned and going to sleep at seven. So much fun."

"Fuck you, John. Mark, work tomorrow, seven in the morning." Is all Jaehyun says as he leaves your apartment, only to keep bickering with Johnny all the way to the car.

As the afternoon sun falls and filters through the balcony door, the aroma of onion and tomatoes fills the small kitchen and your nostrils, making your stomach rumble a little. The melody of a guitar reaches your ears; it sounds soft and melancholic, the scratching of the fingers against the strings only gives it a rawer tone. You decide to leave the sauce finishing simmering, and you approach the room that you will now be sharing with Mark. You find him sitting there, on the bed, guitar in hand, facing the window with his back to the door. His subtle singing accompanies the chords on the guitar.

You can't remember when was the last time you saw Mark like this. So calm and relaxed. Music has always been his passion, ever since you met him in high school, so seeing him take up the hobby he loves so much and enjoy it brings tears to your eyes.

The words that come out of his mouth form a lump in your throat.

When no ones around me, you lost and found me

I was surrounded

With open arms

He keeps playing and singing softly, without noticing your presence.

Even though it's only been a couple of hours since you finished moving, he's already made your room a bit of his own. It seems that he has stopped in the middle of the task, that he amused himself with the guitar because most of the boxes of clothes are unpacked, the side of the wardrobe that you freed for him with only a couple of blue jeans and t-shirts in place.

On the night table rests Mark's perfume, an ashtray along with his cigarette box, and a couple of books under it. There are two sets of matching keys besides the table now—you had to make a copy for him, since it's his house too. His shoes are at the front door, and they will remain there every day. And Mark's slippers are on the edge of the bed you'll share, next to an open shoe box that catches your eye.

"What is this?"

Mark turns around to look at your face, then at the film camera and a bunch of developed pictures in your hands. A fond smile takes over his mouth.

"Taeyong was a romantic," he says, coming to stand next to you and starting to inspect the pictures. "You know, when he left we decided to divide the things that were important to Taeyong," Mark kept explaining to you. "We gotta fulfill his dreams, keep him alive that way."

"And what are you doing for Taeyong?"

"I'm dropping everything for love. For a calm and happy life."

The answer takes you by surprise, you can't hide it. The tears that had begun to accumulate since you heard Mark sing on the guitar come to the edge of your eyelids, uncontrollable, and threaten to fall at any moment.

"You know Taeyong loved danger and drama… But he really wanted to settle down with someone at some point," he continues speaking immediately. "And I kept these.

Mark takes all the developed films from your hands and starts looking at them with you. Shortly after, he says, "He loved to document the happy moments.

The pictures show various scenarios and all the boys are in there. In some pics it's just Johnny smiling under the sun, in others it's just Mark and Taeyong on a night's out, in others there's Jaehyun having breakfast with Taeyong, or Yuta and Mark acting foolish, totally like Yuta and Mark.

"But if you notice, it's just us living life together," he finishes the idea, melancholy invading his face, and his eyes also fill with tears.

However, you are sure that none of you are really sad. In fact, the horizon has never looked so bright for the two of you. There is no more fear, no more guilt, no more uncertainty.

"I think this is a happy moment," you say, picking up the camera and turning it on. "You and me together, settling down for a good life. You think Taeyong would've documented this?"

Mark smiles big and nods.

"Yeah, I think he would have."

After focusing on Mark in front of the camera, and with the evening light behind him painting the whole room a warm orange, you press the shutter. A not very powerful flash comes out of the camera, but it does its work illuminating those parts the warm light won't reach, and it indicates that the photo has been taken. Mark asks for the camera and does the exact same for you.

"I'm sure he's happy, and really proud of you, Mark," you say as you wrap your arms around his body.

Your ear on his chest even allows you to hear his heartbeat, which is unusually fast. Mark takes a big breath of air that moves his entire body and yours, also trapped in his arms. A warm feeling invades you, embraces your heart and awakens butterflies in your stomach. His heartbeat becomes softer, and his voice, smooth but full of honesty and pride, resonates throughout your body.

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

Mark was once the most careful of all. An incredibly strong and humble young man that thought could have the world in his hands. He had to completely lose control over everything he knew once to know fear, to know grief, to know guilt, to finally find healthy love and forgiveness. To others, but most important to himself.

"But, babe," Mark breaks the hug to raise his head and sniff in the direction of the kitchen. "Don't you think something is burning?"

"Shit!" you exclaim and bolt for the kitchen. "The tomato sauce!"

"Yeah, that's why I didn't take Taeyong's dream to pursue cooking." He crosses his arms and rests his body in the doorway, while you fight to save a burnt, almost brown colored tomato sauce by adding a little more puree and water. "I can't cook either."

You quit trying to deal with the sauce. It looks irreparable anyway. "Yeah… Sorry about that, baby."

"We will survive." Mark shrugs, then comes to kiss you affectionately on the cheek. "Wanna order some pizza?"

Thank you so much for reading. If you enjoyed my work, please leave a like, reblog or some feedback. I'd love to read your thoughts!

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