#“did i deserve to be born?” he kept asking that even when he was at the execution altar

[sanjiafterhours]

thinking about how Ace was just a wounded soul with the weight of his father's sins and his mother's death upon his shoulders and this very burden had made him question his own worth from his childhood till the last moments of his life

[entitled-fangirl]

War prize.

Cregan Stark x Targaryen!reader

Summary: The North hates Cregan's wife and shows it rather harshly. Cregan is there to tell them off.

Warnings: violence, sexism, talks of losing virginity unwillingly, the poor reader just going through it😭

A/n: My writing is kinda eh on this one but I got it done which is all that matters. Huge italicized sections mean like a little flashback in case you needed to know that. Based on an ask!

Masterlist

........................................................

She watched her guard lock the door behind him.

How long had she been stuck in this castle?

She felt used. Taken as a trophy and nothing more. Purely a way to show status.

Purely a way to show who won the war.

Cregan Stark had won the war. And now she was his.

He was kind and caring, quick to compassion and slow to anger. If not for the others, she could've seen this as a happy marriage.

But the others made that impossible.

For the door was not locked to keep her in, but to keep others out.

Cregan saw the very actions his people tried against her, and he was concerned. 

It didn't help that all of her dresses were green. A reminder of what had come to pass.

Anytime Cregan's back was turned, something happened to her. Whether it was harsh words, spitting at her feet, or even once a manhandling that almost turned into a mob.

Cregan knew she deserved better. She was kind. He hardly believed her to be a Hightower. At first glance that day in the Keep, he thought perhaps she was Aemond's wife, or another one of Aegon's whores he had always kept around.

But no. Aemond's twin sister.

…

He felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness when two men threw the woman to the ground in front of him.

Her dress was torn in places. Her hair was tangled and dirt ran from her temple to her chin, clearly having been thrown around a lot. She wiped the falling tears from her face with bruised hands. 

"What is this?" He asked the men. Others began to crowd around them to see what would become of her.

The men had only seen prostitutes along the path from the North to the Keep, and even those were few. Seeing a highborn lady was a rare sight.

"Found her hiding away," the man on her right commented.

Cregan sighed and reached down, pulling her chin up so he could look at her. He tipped her face from side to side, observing her. "And what did you hope I'd say when you threw a princess down at my feet? Did you expect me to reward you?"

The man paled. "Well, this is a traitor, my lord. Surely-"

"-Her only crime was the womb she was born from."

"She wears their colors still, Lord Stark-"

"Is she? I can hardly tell under the mud you've drug her through." He huffed, "I want you two out of my sight."

They looked at one another and nodded, moving to pick up the girl again. She jerked back in fear. 

"Leave her," he grumbled. "Well? Be gone. All of you!"

Slowly, they filed out of the room. "Are you gravely injured?" He asked softly.

"Not particularly, my lord," she whimpered.

He sighed and bent at the knee, joining her on the ground. "Did any of them truly put their hands on you? More than to drag you here?"

She wiped her face again, "Are you hoping to take my innocence, my lord?"

A noise involuntarily left his throat. "What?"

"I… It is yours. Just please don't harm me," she sniffled.

Any motion he made to comfort her, he pulled away as if burned. "I'm not going to do that."

"No, no please don't leave me to them," she begged when he pulled away. "Please don't let them have me. I'll do anything."

"They won't have you," he tried again. "Nothing more is going to happen to you. Now, go get redressed and come back. You're not leaving my side until I get this situated."

…

After a few hours, Cregan unlocked the door and entered their shared chambers. "My love?"

He cursed under his breath when he noticed she had fallen asleep on the bed. He wouldn't have been so loud had he known.

He sat on the bed and brushed her hair from her face. "Wake up, dear wife."

She hummed in discontent.

His lips pulled into a thin line. Things had gone especially wrong lately and it had begun to show in her actions. 

"C'mon." He began to pull her up. 

She whined and began to lean into him, tucking her face into his neck.

He chuckled, "I have something for you."

Her eyes opened, "Oh, do you?" 

…

There was outrage when Cregan took her as a wife. The North fought against the idea of having a Southern traitor as their Lady.

He had promised King Aegon III to be fair and just, and the boy said okay, knowing that he would stay honest to his word. 

But the North hated her all the same.

Cregan never considered to fear for her safety, for she was the Warden's wife, and he thought the people would know better than to touch her. 

That, and she hadn't told him of the things said right to her face when he wasn't around. She figured he knew. 

They walked through the city, her arm in his as he showed her around. She took in every sight she could, entranced by the culture of the North. 

But that also welcomed the stares.

Cregan had noticed them immediately, and he flipped her hood up. He didn't care about them, but he knew she would. So by doing so, he was hoping it would bring her a little more comfort. 

Anyone in Westeros would recognize that silver hair.

He leaned down just a bit. "Just tell me when you grow tired or cold."

She nodded, "May I go explore?"

He smiled, "So eager to get away from me?"

"No," she corrects.

"I'm only jesting. Go on."

She grinned and began to look around, trying to decide where to go first.

"Don't wander off too far," he remarked as he moved towards a lord to chat.

She nodded and went, walking a little further down the road. She looked back occasionally to make sure she was still in his line of sight. In doing so, she bumped into a woman harshly.

Y/n pulled back and apologized. "Forgive me!"

The woman set her basket down and straightened her skirt. "Foolish girl. Watch where you step next time."

"I do apologize." She dug in her pocket, pulling out a few coins. "Here. For your trouble."

The woman's eyes widened. She pulled the coins from her hand accusingly. "Where did you get these?" She hissed.

"Well… I… just from…" she turned back to where she could see Cregan. 

The woman grabbed her arm. "Did you steal these? Tell me where."

She jerked against the woman's movements. "No. No, I didn't."

"My lady, is this girl bothering you?" A tall man interfered, helping the woman.

The woman tilted her head, "She's throwing around coins like she's something of value. Look at 'er."

The man eyed her and reached up, pulling the princess' hood down. Their eyes widened. 

She turned to try to catch Cregan's attention, but the man pulled her to him. "A Targaryen, eh? The usurper's bitch sister, aren't you?"

"Please let me go," she whimpered.

"A green traitor in Winterfell? Seems the rumors were right."

She tried to pull her arm away, "Unhand me."

"Shut it, traitor scum."

"CREGAN!" She yelled out of instinct.

Cregan's head snapped immediately, his heart dropping to his stomach. His eyes scanned the crowd, trying to find her amidst the people that had begun to gather. But he couldn't see her. His worry grew and he began to step out into the crowd in hope of finding her.

She fought against the man's grip. She remembered this feeling of helplessness from only weeks before. "Stop! Please… Please, I'll do anything! Just stop!" 

Anyone around them was stopped now, onlooking or shouting at what was going on.

Cregan's jaw set as he figured she was in the midst of it, and he rolled his shoulders back.

"CREGAN!" He heard again, and that was all he needed.

He began to shove people to the side in an attempt to move through the mob that had begun to form. His angered shouts were drowned out.

Luckily, the Northern Warden was burly and built like a wall, so he was able to work through the crowd by sheer force alone. 

Once towards the middle, he finally saw her. 

The man held her tightly by her silver hair. Her hands were trying to lighten his harsh grip on her as she cried. She couldn't stop the others’ hands from pulling at her skirt or the way they spit at her, but she could at least try to stop the pain erupting from her scalp.

"ENOUGH!" Cregan yelled. He finally made it to them, and his hand gripped the man's throat tightly and he leaned down to his ear. "Unhand her."

She sunk to the ground and clutched at her dress.

Cregan kept his hand firm but looked out at the others that still surrounded them. "Leave." he growled through his teeth. "All of you." When no one moved, he threw the man to the ground and turned to them in rage. "LEAVE!"

One by one they left quietly. He looked down at the man. "May the gods have mercy on you, for I have none."

…

"Keep your eyes closed," he chuckled when she almost stumbled. "I've got you."

"How far must we go?"

"Almost there, I assure you."

After a while, he finally sat her down and instructed her to hold on her arms.

A heavy weight was placed in them. Something soft. Something moving.

"Open."

"A dire wolf?" Her eyes widened.

"Mere pup now, but a mighty predator later. I felt I owed you one."

She frowned, "You don't owe me a thing. I… I feel as if I owe you."

He couldn't stop a bright laugh from escaping his throat. "Hardly."

"Cregan," she began, trying to ignore the way the pup cuddled into her for warmth. "You have saved me time and time again. Without you, I would be in some brothel, or maimed by a man without heart, or…" her voice faltered, "Paraded through King's Landing as a true war prize. But I am not. I'm your wife instead. That is a fate I did not deserve."

"But I failed you. I promised to protect you, but I find that I cannot do that as well as I had hoped. This war was hard on my people. While I cannot fault them for their anger, it is wrong to use it on their Lady of Winterfell." His voice grew persistent. "You are mine. You are no Hightower anymore. You and I both know that."

She nodded and began to pet the wolf. "I pray that the North does one day."

"They will," he confirmed. "I shall make them if I must."

"I just don't want to be stuck in this room anymore. These walls are driving me mad," she admitted.

He sighed. "I'm sure they are. But soon you shall have a protector for when I cannot be there." He leaned down at pet the small pup on her lap. "This too will pass eventually."

"Once I give you an heir?"

"Once we have a child," he corrected, "I'm sure they shall be lighter on you."

"And until then?"

He smiled sweetly, "I'll do all I can. Now." He brushed hair from her face. "Please say you like it," he said as he looked down at the pup.

Only then did she let herself truly consider that she now had a dire wolf. "It's beautiful. I just…"

He held a finger up, "Enough of that. I promise you that I and this pup will not let another hand touch you."

She flushed lightly and smiled. "Thank you. I do not say that enough."

He shrugged. "You do, it just usually looks like other things instead."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he looked down at her dress, "wearing the dress that I had made for you is a thank you in and of itself. Blue suits you well. I could name things for all eternity. You are a perfect wife. And I admire you greatly."

"You've only known me seven moons."

"And that is seven moons enough to know."

"Cregan, I am a trophy of your accomplishments."

"You are hardly that."

She sighed, "But that is what they see me as."

"Do I?"

She considered his question. "I don't believe so."

"Then does it matter? I respect you, and with time, I will make sure they do as well."

She nodded and adjusted the dog in her arms. "Very well. I trust you."

He smiled and stood. "That's all I ask for. Now, name your pup and dress for supper. I'll come collect you myself. Is that alright?"

She nodded again.

"The North will like you," he left off with as he closed the door behind him.

She heard the lock behind him.

In time. 

In time.

Either they learn to like her, or they shall meet a Stark dire wolf closely.

The actual dire wolf or Cregan Stark, it didn't matter.

Their jaws would both equally snap at any threat.

.................................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver,

[backinmyphase]

Not fulfilling meals

Summary: As the days go on, the Gojo estate remains cold, as you and Satoru didn't really talk to each other. Would your arranged marriage ever be bearable? Well, Gojo wants to try.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 2980 words

Part 1 Masterlist

Author's note:

Well I guess this is my 100 followers special?? Like you guys are so sweet, how did I deserve your kind comments?? I hope you like this part too <3 (This will be a slow burn, I'm sorryyy :'), if you want to be added to the taglist, just say so it's no problem <3 your comments make my day :))

The jujutsu world was Gojo Satoru's world.

He knew, he was the strongest. He knew, he destroyed the balance of the jujutsu world just by being born. He knew, it was expected of him to keep this power in the hands of the Gojo clan.

He knew, he should marry and get an heir. An heir, who would be even stronger than him.

But he was selfish. Wanted to live his life, without a timer that says when he should have a kid.

He wanted to have control of his life. And if that was so selfish, well then he would gladly be it.

That's what he always thought. But right now, as he didn't see you for the third day in a row, he felt guilty.

Guilty, because he didn't really dislike you. Hell, he didn't even know you. He disliked that you two had to marry. Hated, that it wasn't his choice.

The last days were colder than usual. He felt your presence in this house and that you avoided him like the plague. Everytime he sat down at the table in the living room to eat, he would hear the words you threw at him.

He should be glad. You said, you wouldn't bother him and you kept your word. You didn't even come out of your room when he was around.

So why did he hate it?

He sat at the table in the living room with his breakfast. And he waited. Waited, even though he had to do missions. Waited, even though his brain was telling him to leave.

He waited.

'SO EXCUSE ME. IF I THINK MY HUSBAND DOESN'T WANT TO SEE ME AT ALL!'

His phone rang and a message from Suguru popped up.

"Where are you, Satoru?"

Satoru should stand up an leave. Should eat and leave. But his consciousness didn't want him to leave. His phone rang again. Should he leave or stay?

He waited.

'AND IF I DON'T WANT TO HAVE MYSELF SUFFER THROUGH IT!'

His empty plate looked at him. His own reflection raising an eyebrow at his behavior.

He stood up. Slowly he moved to your door. Looked at the closed door and wondererd if he should knock. Just ask you to eat with him.

'I DON'T WANT-'

He turned around and went to his missions, like he was supposed to. Like his senses told him.

~

Your room was so cold. Even when you hid under your supposedly warm covers, you started to shiver at the thought that you will always sleep here.

You were scared.

Gojo was longer and longer in the living room, every morning he made himself ready to leave. And today morning he was in front of your room.

You were so scared of the conflict with him.

Not that you felt guilty, you didn't feel sorry for what you said or anything like that. But the overwhelming fear that he would tell his clan members about the issues in your marriage would mean your doom.

Today was a meeting with your mother and the higher ups.

Your mother made clear that the meetings will be on a regularly basis in the letter. And she hoped that 'you could deliver good news'.

She meant deliver a kid.

No, your blanket didn't keep you warm. And it didn't protect you from all evil like your child self foolishly thought.

~

"You are late." As Satoru's best friend looked at him, he almost looked concerned.

"Sorry, slept in a bit." Satoru didn't look him in the eyes. "Where is the mission?"

Suguru inspected him a bit and then waved his hand. "Don't bother, I will do it today. You can rest today."

Satoru laughed a bit, but was confused when Suguru didn't laugh with him. "Wait, you mean that?"

"Yeah, Satoru." Suguru sighed. "You look like you need a break. And maybe," Suguru's voice grew a bit softer.

"You could talk to her about it, instead of working yourself dead."

Satoru scoffed as he looked to the side. "She doesn't want to see me. Like ever."

The following silence spoke loudly. And Satoru knew that it was his own fault.

But what was he supposed to do now? What did you want from him? How should he know, when you two didn't talk? How?

"Just go home Satoru."

~

"Don't raise your head to high. Just because you are married to Gojo, doesn't mean you will get the same treatment." Your mother pressed her lips together disapprovingly.

"Yes, mother."

She nodded and sighed as you waited for the other Clan members and higher ups to show up.

Your hands were shaking so you kept them hidden in your lap trying to gain the control other them again. But your anxiety grew by every second.

You weren't made for this pressure, this life. You weren't made for being the wife of the strongest.

You felt weak.

"They are here." A servant announced and your heart felt like it exploded.

"Good. Let them in." Your mother spoke calm and collected, like the power of the jujutsu society wasn't in her house. How did she become so untouchable?

As the door opened, you could feel the atmosphere becoming more sharp.

The higher ups were old. But that just made them more menacing for you. Those people were always just some force that would control your purpose, to you.

Now that force stood before you.

You looked down at your hands and you could feel their stares. Your hands were sweating madly as you began holding your breath.

You felt so small.

Gojo would keep his head up. He wouldn't fall into himself, he wouldn't care about their stares. Why couldn't you be like that?

Because you weren't born like him.

"Mrs. Gojo." The voice of an eldery woman. "How did you sleep tonight?"

What did they want from you? Why were you his wife, for God's sake? Why did you have to be a girl? Why, why, why?

"I slept well, thank you." You tried everything to keep your voice steady in front of them. Just try to not look so weak, okay?

"So can we asume an heir is on the way?"

"What?" Too surprised, you raised your head forgetting your mother's words.

And that made the stares just worse. The eyes were piercing you.

"You didn't sleep with him?" An old man looked disapprovingly at you. A man you didn't know.

He looked at your mother. "I thought we made it clear, that the heir was top priority!"

Your mother's eyes were boring into your head. "You did, and she knows that. I hope she knows her duties as his wife."

She didn't even talk to you. "I know." you looked down again. "We just didn't have the time to get to know each other-"

"What does that matter?" The eldery woman from the beginning sounded annoyed. "Knowing each other wasn't really your duty."

Your vision started to get blurry. Why?

"Well you at least talked about the honeymoon, right? Then you have time for your duties." You didn't know if your mother was trying to help you, or was trying to help the higher ups.

"No, we didn't really-"

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, FOR WHAT DID YOU THEN HAVE TIME?" The man was yelling now. "WE GAVE YOU FOUR DAYS! WHAT WERE YOU DOING?"

It was difficult to breathe. Your mouth was hard to open and dry. Your neck was feeling sore, because of the looking down. Your eyes were...

Why did you even show up to the meeting?

Gojo wouldn't have bowed to their will. He would stand up. But you can't.

You just can look down.

"This will be more work than we hoped." You didn't try to differentiate their voices anymore.

"You have a lot to learn about how things work here." You felt like being pushed down onto the ground.

"Mrs. Gojo."

~

Satoru was feeling sick. You were nowhere to be found and he knew nothing about anything. The Servants couldn't tell him anything either.

First he thought you just needed a bit time for yourself and went for a walk or something.

That's what he thought ten hours ago.

Before he spend the whole day with megumi and tsumiki. Before he came home at 8 pm and you were still not home.

Was this it? Did you hate him this much, you would just leave?

Maybe he really fucked up that bad.

And as he was pacing up and down in the living room, dinner still untouched on the table, he felt terrible.

He didn't feel bad, when he skipped the meetings. No, he felt bad after he saw who he was hurting.

He was an asshole.

Why did you have to remind him of that? Suguru was doing that enough already. But when you did it, it stung much more and he didn't know why.

"Mr. Gojo?"

He flinched as he heard the voice of the little girl. Another reminder of you. The servant girl who was named Hina. Which he didn't know.

"Yes?"

"The food is cold. Should we make it hot again?"

Oh. The food.

As he looked at the planned dinner he felt sorry for making her work again. And you also had to eat today.

"Wait. My wife isn't home yet, we will wait for her."

The girl blinked two times before slowly nodding. "If you wish so." With that she took the food with her to the kitchen.

Satoru didn't know what to do. You were such a mystery to him, would you really go as far as just leaving and never coming back?

He didn't know. Satoru stood there in the living room clueless. Didn't know if his wife would just run away or not. Ironic, isn't it?

Where were you? What should he do?

'SO EXCUSE ME. IF I THINK MY HUSBAND DOESN'T WANT TO SEE ME AT ALL!'

He sat down. And he waited.

~

You were tired. So, so tired.

The meeting was long. Countless yelling and accusations at you. Tips for in bed and advice how to convince him to sleep with you.

You felt sick.

Sick, because they want to hear from you weekly, how your 'sex life' with Gojo is going. All these old people obsessed with making a new prodigy for their schemes.

"You are replaceable." They told you. "We can find a new wife to get an heir."

"So stop, resisting."

"Do it for your Clan."

These people weren't right in the head. They were truly sick.

And as all these faces left, normal breathing was allowed. Your heart was working overtime all these hours and you felt dizzy.

"Why are you still here? Go home and start fufilling your duties."

Your mother still sat next to you, angry and stone cold.

"I don't know him." your voice was shaking. "I can't-"

"I didn't know your father too." Her voice was sharp. "Still I had priorities. And those should be your Clan."

Her body seemed like a statue. Unshakable.

"Mother, I don't think he wants-"

"NONSENSE!"

Her sudden yelling made you flinch. She took a breath and then spoke in her unshakable voice again.

"He is a man. They always want. And one day he will just take."

She stood up. She didn't seem unshakable anymore. No, she was more unreachable, it wouldn't matter what you said.

"Your car is ready to leave." That were her last words before she left.

You were always left alone.

~

As you took the final steps to the Gojo estate, you felt tired like never before. Only now you realized that you haven't eaten since breakfast.

You hoped Hina didn't worry to much and they had something ready. You just wanted to eat and sleep.

'Maybe I won't sleep so badly tonight,' you thought as you rang the door bell. 'Since I can't even stand properly, from all the sitting. And I should get my own key, since'

The door in front of you swung open with force and blue eyes were locked in yours.

"Where-"

He stopped himself as he looked at you. There was something in his look that you couldn't put your finger on.

"Are you okay?"

His look was becoming unbearable for you, so you looked down.

"Yeah."

He just nodded and let you in. You hesitated before going in, not knowing what to do in his presence.

As you looked around, you noticed the empty dinner table. But what really caught your eye was that his plate was clean and not even touched.

"Hina," He remembered her name? You thought he would never... "We can eat now."

We?

"Or have you eaten already?"

You didn't dare look at him. What was all this about? Why was he even talking to you?

"No." you cleared your dry throat. "I haven't eaten already."

He hummed and ordered Hina and the other chefs to warm up dinner.

Hesitant, you sat down at the other side of the big table. Awkwardly you looked around, feeling out of place, because of the sudden attention.

"Why are you already home? You worked longer the last days. You weren't here before 11 pm." Finally you found your voice.

Gojo looked at you and firstly didn't say anything. Then he looked away and cleared his throat. "I... Just had no missions today. So I came home early."

"Oh."

Hina showed up like a savoir for this conversation and brought dinner.

But she brought for two persons.

"You haven't eaten already?" you looked down at your plate, trying to eat normally but your position was so stiff it wasn't easy.

"No, i-" he stopped in his sentence and looked down at his plate. "I wasn't really hungry till now."

You just nodded, while trying to eat as quiet as possible. The silence between you was palpable. The only sond was the slicing of the knives.

You tried to keep yourself steady. You really shouldn't eat too fast or he would think you were running. Which you technically were, but he didn't have to know it.

"Where," Gojo tried to sound casual. "Where were you?"

You stopped eating and thought about what you should say. He shouldn't know about the meetings. Shouldn't know that you were 'trained' to be his duties fulfilling wife.

"I visited my mother." Technically not a lie. "She wants to meet me regularly."

He nodded and continued eating. Looked like he was satisfied. He shouldn't think you were unfaithful or anything like that.

"Do you have a good relationship with her?"

Your eyes widened and you looked up to really look him in the eyes. Those beautiful eyes.

"Good enough." your voice was barely a whisper. But he nodded like he was listening carefully to everything you said.

"Should I come with you some time?" he leaned a bit back in his seat. "Or do you think she doesn't want to see me?"

As you thought about all the times your mother ranted about Gojo because of his irresponsibility, you couldn't help but chuckle. "I don't think so."

His position stiffed a bit. "Why do you think so?"

"She thinks you are careless." Your voice was growing cold. "Because the meetings you missed, Gojo."

"Oh. Yeah right." He looked down again and mumbled something incoherently.

You didn't ask what he said.

The silence between you came back as you finished your meal. And as you were finished, you stood up taking your now empty plate with you.

"I will bring that in the kitchen." You could finally turn away from him and his eyes. "Good night."

You didn't really expect an answer. But Gojo seemed to like to surprise you.

"Good night, sleep well. You look exhausted, try to rest now."

Your traitor of a heart started to pound louder, like you were in a bad romance novel. Your mind told it to shut up, while you walked out of the reach of his eyes and presence into the kitchen.

You walked to Hina and handed her your plate with a smile, while telling yourself to breathe normally.

"Thank you, dear, it tasted fantastic."

The girl smiled back at you. "Happy to hear that, Mrs. Gojo. We were also happy to see you two eating together."

"Oh well," you waved her statement away. "It won't happen again I think. Was just a coincidence."

The girl in front of you looked confused and shook her head. "No, Mr. Gojo specifically ordered to wait for you to eat dinner. His food was ready 2 hours ago."

You couldn't help but blink at her. He waited for you?

A tiny little hopeful thought slid into your head, speaking quietly but still steady.

Maybe-

~~

It was already later than usual as Satoru sat in the living room. His breakfast still untouched he fought with himself.

Your door was still closed.

No, one evening couldn't open a locked door so easily. And as he stared at your empty seat he wondered. Why was this table even that big?

He should change that.

Did you always wait for him to leave before you ate?

Weren't you hungry?

'I DON'T WANT TO HAVE MYSELF SUFFER THROUGH IT!'

His phone rang as a new message popped up. It was from Suguru.

'Are you still home, Satoru?'

He stood up. This was dumb. He was acting dumb.

He knocked at your door. "Are you coming for breakfast?"

~

Maybe Satoru wasn't all bad.

Taglist:

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[moonchild1]

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅹ)

yup i've hit you with another list and once again i had so much fun putting it together... i was away for a bit but that spark came back and i'm back in action... this list holds so many amazing fics i've read it's alot of different types of storylines and some new genres i wanted to try out and i am so excited to go down that road with these new genres i haven't explored yet, but please do enjoy this list there's so many great fics here you will get lost in it i know it did, my next list should be out by next month i want to take time to read as many as i can and get back all that excitement so the next one might take a while... since these fics are so outstanding we can't forget to give all the love and support to the incredible authors who have taken the time to plan and write these fics without them we wouldn't get to read such beautiful and entertaining fics so please so them all the love and support in the world cause they truly deserve it leave them a nice comment, like and reblog the posts so others can discover them too and give them a follow and check out their masterlists i'm telling you, you will most definitely fall in love with their work and find lots of great pieces in there. most of the fics i recommend contain smut so no minors allowed and don't interact you as well as ageless blgs will be blocked and if you would like to share a fic with me you are more than welcome too i love hearing from you i hope you all enjoy this list and till next time ~ kiki ♡

f- fluff s- smut a-angst

series

between takes by @jeonstudios f s a

as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard.

i want you to stay by @ahundredtimesover f s a

Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You've dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

you're losing me by @sparklingchim s a

in the midst of marital challenges, jungkook and you grapple with the complexities of your relationship. yet, the lingering question whispers: how do you truly determine if the journey is worthwhile?

kiss the girl by @guked f s a

after saving a human prince from being drowned by the sea witch, you’re cursed by that infamous witch to live out the rest of your days as a human—unless you can manage to get true love’s kiss from that very same prince. which would be a simple task, had he not hated you the moment you met.

flux by @yoonia s a ft. myg

One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. poly au

in motion by @/yoonia s

The rule is simple; you can look but you can’t touch. You’ve been attending the event for a few times since you’ve encountered the voyeurism club, but it was only when a certain boy arrives on one occasion did you feel the fire of lust burning inside.

what the fire gave us by @gimmethatagustd f s a

↬ You were born with a Gift that the world wanted to turn into a weapon. All Jungkook wanted to do was show you that you could find love, even in the dark.

friend in me by @ktheist f s a

“don’t confuse your party friends with your real friends.”

knife's edge by @readyplayerhobi f s a ft. pjm

The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?

take a chance by @crystaljins a

You should have known the second your business partner asked you to plan his best friend’s wedding as a favour that it was going to be nothing but trouble. Especially when it turns out he’s in love with said best friend. And dying of a deadly disease because of it.

chess of ice by @jimlingss f a

Jeon Jungkook is a rising star, aka. hockey captain of a team heading for the Olympics. The last thing he expects is to begin a whole ‘nother sport, holding a broomstick in his hand, sweeping the ice and throwing dumb stones towards a target. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his love life is about to turn into a game of chess as well....and you’re his opponent.

diamond in the rough by @kimvtae f s a

When a business heir from Busan, Jeon Jungkook, meets you, a poor girl from Daegu, he doesn’t expect to fall as quickly as he does. He’s been told for his entire life to avoid Daegu, a town riddled with gangs and a history of a brutal murder in Busan, but he can’t stay away from you, even when he’s warned that you’re not good enough for him.

try hard by @hobibliophile f s

Yoongi asks you to help him photograph the university rugby team, and you’re reluctant until you see Jeon Jungkook in uniform. Damn.

cruel intentions by @jeonqukie f s a

All is well in your overtly simplistic life. You managed to maintain decent grades in university all the while progressing through your relationship with your long-time boyfriend and accompanying your best friend in her exhausting personal life. But as the saying goes when there are ups, there will surely be downs. While you’ve maintained this upward pattern, you are defeated when one afternoon inevitably brings you to a downward spiral. All good things must come to an end. Who knew you would be sharing the same sentiment with someone you barely know.

sillage by @deerguk s

Soulmate!AU where soulmates are drawn to one another by the infliction of physical touch, whether it be pain or pleasure. But it is only initiated once the two people somewhat interact.

remote learning by @hansolmates s

working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two.

when it rains by @choiwrites s a

Being an exotic dancer was never easy. Every day was the same for you, until you reached that one breaking point you’ve been avoiding since your miserable life started. On a rainy night, Jungkook and his yellow umbrella were your last call of hope.

hate at first weeb by artaemis, freckleyoon (ao3)

You just want to weeb in peace but your annoying downstairs neighbour just won't let you breathe

wanted by @jincherie s a

You were a deserter, a renegade, a wanted “criminal”. It was never in your plans to crash land on that planet, and it most certainly wasn’t in your plans to fall in love with it’s handsome ruler.  

everything in you by @jjungkookislife f s a

You want a baby and Jungkook is willing to help. f2l, roommates au, pregnant!reader

home for the holidays by @/jjungkookislife f s a

Jungkook is in desperate need to find a girlfriend for Christmas. His mom has nagged and nagged about him bringing someone home for the holidays. Determined, Jungkook recruits his friends in hopes of finding the right girl to take home. In need of a place to stay, and no plans for Christmas, you answer his friend’s ad. You have 25 days to convince not only his parents but his grandmother that you’re in a real relationship, solid enough to get through Christmas with the Jeons.

every breath you take by @junqkook s a

everything was going great when you first met jeon jungkook. he was a new light in your life with soft smiles and tinkling laughs; but then you noticed a lurking presence that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

navy by @jjkfire f a

He’s your best friend, practically your other half and the two of you have always promised to be there for each other no matter what. The both of you have dreams of professionally making music together one day and to you it’s almost like reality, a given really, and with each day, the dream starts to feel like it’s within reach. But, one day, with one sentence, Jungkook destroys it all.

wicked by @adonis-koo s a

In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

paper doll by @winetae s a

When the nation’s little sister, IU, gets into a huge scandal, your agency seizes the opportunity to thrust you into that now vacant spotlight. Your self-composed song Paper Doll becomes an overnight sensation, and soon people are itching to find out who was the one who broke your heart. All hell breaks loose once netizens discover that you used to date popular idol, Jeon Jungkook. Little do they know that it wasn’t him who left the relationship unscathed — it was you.

one shot

the devil's change up by @jungblue f s

Majoring in athletic training means you have mandatory observation hours to perform with every single sports team at your school throughout the year, and so far it’s been going pretty great. However, when regrets from your past cause your rotation with the baseball team to become a little rocky, there’s one star pitcher who says that he can make it all better. 

this is how we break up by @/ahundredtimesover s a

There are things you prepared for coming back home and that includes seeing your ex-boyfriend, but helping him design his apartment isn’t one of them. From meetings over coffee and lunches with your friends, you both learn more about the time in-between, and what you find out leave you heartbroken, wondering if there’s enough of you left to try to get back what you’d lost. “You know what they say about past lovers remaining friends? It’s either they never loved each other to begin with, or they still do. And we all know how much they loved each other, don’t we?”

a piece of the moonlight by @/jimlingss f a

For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love.

the quest to bedding the lead singer of frontman by @kpopfanfictrash s

Frontman is your favorite band in the world and honestly, the only reason you waited this long in line is to stand at the front for a shot with the lead singer. Enter sexy sound boy, who just won’t leave you alone. (punk!Jungkook)

heartbreak trials by @dreamyjoons s a

it all started with a bet: the one with the highest body count would get the most illustrious prize - Namjoon’s bedroom. For you and Jungkook, the race was on.

perhaps love by @mangowillow f a

for as long as you can remember, you have been in love with your childhood friend turned roommate, but jeon jungkook remains oblivious even when he comes to comfort and help you sleep every night.

what? now by @theharrowing f s

For as long as you and Jungkook have been friends, your feelings for him have been unrequited. Or have they?

lilac wisteria by @blushoseoks f a

the first time jeon jungkook says that he is going to marry you, you are five years old sitting underneath a large wisteria tree.

tell me no lies by @jeongi f s a

You chose to rob your boss, however; you never expected to fall in love with him.

mcd*ckin by @jinned s

"So, if I'm so predictable," you tease, running your finger along his clothed chest, "what am I going to do next?"

things you said while you were driving by @cupofteaguk f

post breakup au

(y)our name by @jjkpls f s a ft ot 6

It’s always been the two of you since you were little. People came and went in your lives and Jungkook didn’t mind until you turn into grown-ups and he starts to mind a bit too much.

(un)welcomed addition by @shuadotcom f a

After a drunken one night stand with your neighbor, you have your reasons for wanting to forget it ever happened and never talk to him again. Unfortunately, Jungkook wins the award for the world’s worst neighbor so his 3 am wakeup calls and mail stealing have you banging at his door on an almost weekly basis. You just want to make it to the end of your lease so you can leave all the traces of the fuckboy next door behind...unless your feelings get in the way of course.

Just Like the Movies by @/shuadotcom f s a

When you need a fake date for your cousin’s wedding and all of your other friends have plans, that only leaves your best friend Jungkook - who you also happen to be completely in love with. It’ll be easy getting through a week of fake dating him, right?

watermelon sugar by @/shuadotcom f s a

When your friends outvote you for your annual summer trip, you end up stuck at a beachside town. To make it worse, there’s an irritating local surfer boy that won’t leave you alone… that is until you see him shirtless and in the water - then you don’t want him to leave you alone and your unexpected summer romance begins.

take my whole life by @/ktheist f s a

chaebol au. arranged marriage au. expecting parents au.

never let you go by @yeojaa f s

You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud.  Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t. (or:  Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)

speaking in bodies by @/yeojaa f s a

The holidays have never meant much to you - less a promise of Christmas morning joy and more a reminder of all the things you’ve lost.  Some would call you a grinch; others, just a plain old asshole.  Jeon Jungkook would call you both.  The more time you spend together, though, the more you thaw, melting beneath the sun that seems to sit right in the centre of his chest.

howling for you by @fortunexkookie f s

The way your Little Red Riding Hood costume lured over a fuckboy in a half-assed werewolf costume was a little cliche, but god damn was he beautiful. He promised he had plenty of big things to show you, and you took him up on the offer, not realizing that you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew

cold nights & blurred lines by @awrkive f s a

jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

christmas is waiting for you by @/lamourche f s ft myg (ao3)

Being home for the holidays surrounded by your well-meaning family isn’t that bad. All you have to do is (1) survive the Andersons’ annual Christmas Eve party, (2) avoid all questions about your job, and (3) avoid your high school nemesis (not a crush!), Jeon Jungkook.

lost stars by @/subvk f s a (ao3)

Falling in love with Jeon Jungkook was everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, but maybe it was exactly that: a dream so blissful and comforting that it was too good to be true, something that could all disappear when the night changes to day, and your eyes open again. Or, making a marriage pact with your best friend was supposed to instill a sense of hope for you, so why does this hurt you more than it should?

a beautiful epiphany by @/subvk f s a (ao3)

Derailed by heartbreak and the loss of inspiration, Jeon Jungkook tries to rediscover his love for art again. As his best friend, you’re willing to do anything to help him reignite his lost passion. Little do you know that the struggling artist’s new muse is closer than you think.

the philosophy of goodluck by @kidguk f s

“you told me i looked good and that you needed to get a tattoo of my face” is not the explanation you wanted to hear from the tattoo artist that permanently etched the dumbest drunken request of your life onto your skin.

mountebank by @/kidguk f s ft. pjm

Soulmate AU featuring Jimin, in which you’ve been waking up next to your soul-enemy and running from your soul-mate. Figure that mess out, will you? 

holidays of breads and wood by @cutaepatootie f a

Every December now smells like freshly baked bread and wood to you. Its cold wind brings you memories of him every morning as you are kneading your mixture of water, flour and a pinch of nutmeg – the secret ingredient that makes your bread taste so special. It seeps through the open window of your small kitchen and shakes your entire body. It seeps under your flour-stained apron, getting through your clothes and reminding you of his soft touch. It sounds like forest and shines like snow under the sunlight. It fills your nostrils with familiar scents. Every December now feels like distant memories of a man you once knew, who loved to carve his dreams in wood.

a fallen bookmark on a thursday afternoon by @/cutaepatootie f s a

He came to you like the air comes into the train station after the fast arriving of the machine. It comes fast and unexpected, making you hoist your head to look at the long vehicle and the people inside. It is so fast you can’t even distinguish the different wagons. As the train comes to a stop, the wind that it creates plays with your hair, leaving you breathless. That’s how Jeon Jungkook came into your life.

every kind of way by @gukslut s

Three little vignettes, three completely different experiences, same perfectly wonderful boyfriend JK

heavy lifting by @snackhobi f

you work the night shift in a supermarket. and now your crush, aka the cutest boy in the world, aka the guy you’ve been thirsting after for months, aka jeon jungkook, works the night shift too.

blue orchid by @inkedtae f a

hanahaki & soulmate au

up to snow good by @aredheadedmess f a

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

cherry bomb by @milfgyuu f s

You’re a cocktail waitress in a high end nightclub and you’ve been mutually crushing on one of the bartenders. Tonight, one of your customers oversteps boundaries and when Jungkook gets involved, you’re ready to toss your ‘no dating co-workers’ policy out the window. 

work it out by @/choiwrites s

You never would have thought that you’d be working with the college dropout who was coincidentally your best friend’s ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Saying his name already burns your tongue, you wonder how long you can hold your professionalism around him.

all in by @iamjungkooked s a

Jeon Jungkook is everything you have ever desired in a partner. He’s kind, passionate, funny, honest, warm and every positive adjective in the dictionary. He totally gets you and you get him. He seems like the perfect guy for you, except he is dating your best friend. What could possibly go wrong?  OR  The four times you get the wind knocked out of you by Jeon Jeongguk

until my last breath by @/iamjungkooked s a

Sporting an undercut and tattoos Jeon Jungkook waltzes back in your life after 5 years of being away. You think you know him– and just when you think you have gotten close, he reveals a secret (or two). Following this, is a series of trials and tribulations that concludes in a way you never expect. (Alternatively: the one where Jungkook creates a mess out of you)

está dañada by @aquagustd f s a

life through the eyes of someone who watches you fall apart and helps gather the shards of your heart, only for you to make the same mistake time and time again, but he refuses to accept the truth because to him, you’re infallible.

coin toss by @yoondoze a

you and jeongguk go way back, even before you were the menacing duo many knew you to be, even before he brought you into the mafia and left you there to join the city’s detective agency. a call for cooperation comes out of a common enemy, requiring the two of you to reconcile for one last mission.

wonder by @bubmyg f a

romance novels lie about finding some deep epiphany in the ocean because you find your inspiration in some chlorine tainted red locks or where jeongguk isn’t smooth with a pool net. 

starboy by @sugaxjpg s

Jeon Jungkook was, above anything else, the type you should not get involved with. He was the guy who slept around; the guy who was gone before you woke up; who left a path of broken hearts and missed calls wherever he went. He was right in just about every wrong way. That being said, maybe the bet you made with your friend could be the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and even enough to break the chain of misfortune that circled your party nights — after all, it was all just a simple, four-part plan to make Jungkook beg for you. What could possibly go wrong?

symmetry by @adriftmoonchild s a

with both of you being from rival houses, the smirk that jungkook seemed to throw in your direction every shared class did nothing for your disdain towards him. as far as you were concerned he was arrogant and childish; you just wished he wasn’t so damn good in bed.

little surfer girl by @ppersonna f s a

every summer you watched jeon jungkook turn into a perfect, professional surfer.  every summer, you wanted him more. this summer, you were determined to make him yours.

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

[leviismybby]

"Pregnant?" Connie's mouth drops as you and Levi make the announcement. You kept your pregnancy a secret for long enough and your belly was starting to show too much, they would've figured it out anyway. Sasha stops eating, her eyes go wide, Jean next to her tries not to smile, he definitely wants to say something inappropriate. Before he gets the chance to, Armin speaks. "Congratulations captain and name!" He smiles at both of you. The tension at the table was awkward as you knew that some of them didn't even know you and Levi were dating.

Mikasa doesn't say anything but you can see the slight smile on her face meanwhile Eren looks like he is having some sort of flashbacks. "Congrats." He says, his green eyes shifting from his food to your belly, which makes you question a few things but you smile back and nod your head at him. "You know Captain for humanity's strongest soldier you sure don't know how to pull-ow!" Sasha stomps on Connie's foot under the table and Jean laughs. "Be mature for once will you!" The brunette says to him with her mouth full of food. Levi rolls his eyes at the banter, he really didn't want to tell them. It's not because he doesn't trust them but he thinks that it's safer for you and your baby if less people knew.

"You're the one to talk! Your mouth is full of food." Connie bites back at Sasha and she just continues to eat. Mikasa turns to you. "Congratulations. I still don't know how you keep up with him." She says, her and Levi did have a bumpy relationship but you know that she doesn't mean it in a bad way. "Well now I will have to keep up with two..." You chuckle. "Can we name it?" Jean asks. "Absolutely not." Levi doesn't even let him think about it. "And from now I want you all to be careful around name, is that clear?" They all nod at Levi's command.

"It's a boy." Eren says, he has been awfully quiet since you said that you were expecting a child, the whole table turned to look at him. "I mean, I think it's going to be a boy." He says, looking down at his food. Sasha shakes her head. "Nuh uh, it's definitely a girl!" They all start to place bets and Levi sighs, he whistles to get their attention. "You're not betting on a the gender of my fucking child. Now, after breakfast, I want to see all of you train extra hard understood?" "Yes, captain!" They all say in unison, Armin sheepishly looks at you. "I agree with Eren, I think it's a boy. I read that boys leave all the beauty to the mother and you're glowing Name." You smile at him, Armin always was sweet, well most of the time.

"Right, can you guys please keep this a secret? We don't want everyone to know." It's a simple request that leaves your mouth. They all nod, this went better than you thought it would, most of them are happy but Eren's reaction lingers at the back of your mind. "Listen when the little Ackerman terror is born, can I be the godfather?" That's a question that throws Levi off guard, especially since Jean asked it. "No, I want to be the godfather! That baby deserves someone fun as the godfat-" "Neither of you." Levi says, pinching the area between his eyes. "Now, off to training." Standing up one by one they all make their way outside, Mikasa approaches you. "If you need anything you can let me know." She says and you can't help but smile at her. "Thank you, Mikasa."

As the room clears, Levi turns to you. "I am surprised that none of them asked how kids are made." Laughing at these words, you shake your head. "They are all 17-18, Levi. They know all too well by now." You can still remember how traumatized Eren and Mikasa were when they found out, to your surprise, that Armin knew despite his two confused best friends. "Yeah well, all of them are still brats." He kisses your temple and then your belly. "I'll see you two later." He gives you a quick kiss before heading out to training. Your hand goes down to your belly and you rub the bump, in this time of war and hardship, a baby will surely bring at least a bit of happiness into it all.

[silentheiss]

It happens on a regular morning. Luo Binghe is happily refilling Shen Qingqiu’s cup with tea, his beautiful face open and serene. Shen Qingqiu looks at him and his heart suddenly starts to ache.

His husband, so strong and yet fo fragile when it comes to him. So enduring, yet willing to give up all the poise when cradled in Shen Qingqiu’s arms.

He never asks for things he knows Shen Qingqiu is unwilling to give. He never got his truth.

System!

Silence.

Something hot and angry boils inside his chest. He can’t bare to hide a single thing from his husband anymore, no matter what it entails. Luo Binghe deserves to know he was never hated. He deserves to know he’d be loved in his every manifestation.

System, I’m going to tell him.

Silence.

Welp, here goes nothing.

“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu starts.

“Yes, Shizun?” Luo Binghe looks up, pitch-black eye gleaming and eager. He is precious.

“This master needs to tell you something important.” Shen Qingqiu falls silent for a moment, waiting for System to blow up with warning signs. And yet — nothing.

“Is- is everything alright?” Luo Binghe looks around the room, as if checking for threat.

“Yes.” Shen Qingqiu says. “It’s just that this husband has something to say. I haven’t been completely honest with Binghe, and it’s time to fix that.”

Luo Binghe visibly tenses.

“Is that safe?” He asks, carefully.

Ah, his perceptive, intelligent husband. Truly, his IQ is higher than the mountain they’re currently on.

“I don’t know.” Shen Qingqiu admits. “But I can’t stay silent on this matter any longer.”

Luo Binghe shakes his head, dropping his cup on the table. The tea spills across the wood. Neither of them pay it any attention.

“If Shizun’s wellbeing might be compromised, then I don’t want to know it.”

“Don’t you?” Shen Qingqiu asks. “Don’t you want to know why I did what I did?”

A breath Luo Binghe takes is a sharp little thing. Shen Qingqiu’s heart breaks for him, for the thousands time.

Suddenly, the weight of secrets is unbearably heavy on his shoulders. It’s a miracle he can still sit straight — he feels like any second now he’d get crushed into the floor.

“I don’t need to know it.” Luo Binghe relents.

“I think you do.”

And then, Shen Qingqiu starts to talk. He talks and talks, eyes never leaving his husband’s face, because if System decides to kill him after all, his Binghe’s face is what he wants to see last.

Luo Binghe listens. He’s not even crying, which is surprising, but Shen Qingqiu pushes himself to finish the monologue before reacting in any way. When he’s done, Luo Binghe takes a slow breath. Then another.

Then, he speaks.

“I am sorry.” He says.

What! He is sorry?

“Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu exclaims, heart in his throat. “What can you be possibly sorry about?”

“I failed you.” Luo Binghe

“What are you talking about?”

“I wanted to be stronger to protect Shizun, but failed to recognize that Shizun was under attack the whole time.” Luo Binghe looks bitter and ashamed, eyes downcast. “Begging Shizun for punishment.”

Shen Qingqiu is suddenly angry all over again. Punishment! He’s begging for punishment! Insufferable boy!

“You want me to punish you? For being a child who failed to recognize something this master has been purposely hiding?” He demands.

Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu’s eternal heartache, nods meekly.

“A child.” He says, slow and pained. “A bright, eager boy. Sweet, sticky, kind. A child who lived through so much pain, who suffered since the moment he was born yet he kept fighting, and trying, and being good. A child that I failed to protect. He deserves punishment?”

“Shizun.” Luo Binghe whispers. “Please.”

“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu mirrors his husband. “Please. Please, never suggest you deserve anything but love from me. It’s not true. It’s never been true.”

Shen Qingqiu is ready for the table to topple over and Luo Binghe to fall on his lap. He catches him with shaky hands.

Cold tea spills all over the floor. Despite heavy weight on his lap, Shen Qingqiu’s heart, for the first time in forever, is light.

[selfloverrrrrr]

Witch!Reader x Demon!Satoru. He promises to fulfill her wish in exchange for something. She wants to be seen as a human being instead of a monster, the only thing she really wants is to be loved, and unfortunately he knows that. He fulfills her wish, but in return he imprisons her in his castle and promises to give her all the love and care she deserves (but in a very dark way).

The Ritual~

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physical and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, demon Gojo, witch reader, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

I was born in a witch family. My mother was a witch too. So were my ancestors. I'm also a witch. I didn't know what was it when I was a kid. Is being a witch a good thing or a bad thing? I always used to ask myself. But all I knew was my mom always used to hide the fact from everyone that we all are witches.

So many years passed. I grew up. I'm an adult now. And I still don't have the answer that if being a witch is good or bad. But for me it became a curse. A curse for which my whole family got killed. The king hired to kill all the witches in his kingdom. He's such a powerful king. And that's why my family isn't with me now.

We all were unaware that they were attacking us. It was the middle of the night. I saw them kill everyone in front of my eyes. I ran away from there. But they saw me. I ran all I could. And for god's blessings they couldn't find me. Now I made a small hut in the forest.

All time fear attacks me that they will find me and kill me too. I can't live like this. I need to find a way where I can live like normal people. So I started learning witches techniques. Maybe any of them will help me? I started reading the books of my ancestors.

I started learning many magics. But none of them are for what I was trying to find. I never did witch activities before. I started searching in all those books. Maybe, just maybe something that will make me like the other normal people and I can live a normal life just like them?

I searched all I could. But nothing was related this. But then I found something. A book which is sealed. I looked at it. It was the last hope. I opened the seal. It was too old. Am I even gonna find anything from here? I opened the book anyways. After some time of reading what I found can actually help me. The things written in the book are:

"He got sealed. After all those trying, we all witches are successful. We sealed him. He, the strongest demon. He got birthed and from that day it was all the witch's job to end him. Though its not possible to kill him. He's too powerful. We all were also shocked that we got him sealed. He was birthed to destroy the world. He wants to rule it. He has destroyed too many places. He has killed too many people. And after doing rituals we managed to seal him. That demon, that monster's name is:

Gojo Satoru"

I kept turning the pages and the last page got my attention.......

Process to unseal Gojo Satoru

He'll fulfill your wish

My heart started beating wildly. Should I do it? It is mentioned that he is too dangerous. But he'll fulfill my wish. I don't have anything in my life. Does it even matter if I risk it? If I don't do it people are gonna try to kill me all the time. Then I should take a risk. I have to go to the place mentioned in the book.

The place mentioned in the book is the old burnt castle at the end of the forest. I've seen that castle from the young age. Everyone told me to stay away from there. But they never told me the story behind it. Today I got to know about the real story behind it.

The ritual needs to be done at night. So I collected all the things that were needed in the ritual that day. And I went there the next night. I wore a hooded dress so that no one could recognise me. And I was lucky that there weren't any people there. I quickly made my way inside the old castle with a candle in my hand.

I entered the castle. It was huge. There's dust everywhere. And the castle is burnt also. It made me curious about what happened here? I kept walking. The huge stairs from the middle. I have to go to the top room of this castle. As in the book there's a throne room which is the ritual room. I went up there.

I pushed the door open and my mouth was wide open by the beauty of the throne room. I wondered what it looked like when it wasn't burnt. I went towards the throne. I don't have enough time to do the ritual. I quickly set up what was written in the book. Then lit up all the candles. Then started doing the ritual. My heart was thumping against my chest.

As I completed the spell. The wind started flowing heavily. Suddenly all the candles were extinguished together. Then the wind stopped flowing. And all of a sudden all the candles lit up together again. Then I saw a tall human figure sitting on the throne.

He has a huge masculine body. He's tall, has handsome sharp features, white hair, white eyelashes and those gorgeous blue eyes. He looks exactly the same said in the book. He's wearing all black royal clothes. He turned his head on both sides and the cracking sound echoed through the room. Then he looked at me.

Can that beautiful person be that dangerous? I asked myself. "So you're the one who unsealed me?" He spoke. I have to respect him. "Yes, my lord" I replied looking at the ground. "Hmmmmm.....well, this place is still burnt and dusty everywhere.... and I don't like my castle to lose its beauty" he said and threw a hand beside him.

A blue ray came out of his hand. And all of a sudden the castle turned all new. Not burnt anymore neither dust anywhere. I was already gorgeous and now it has become more gorgeous. A huge black gorgeous castle. "Hmm.....so what's the reason you unsealed me?" He asked.

"my lord, I'm a witch.... people of the king are killing all the witches. They killed my family too. I don't wanna live like this. I was to live like normal people. I want everyone to think of me like normal people. I want to be loved." I replied. And then there was silence. I could feel him staring at me.

"So you don't wanna be a witch any more and want to be loved right?"he asked. "... yes. My lord" I replied. He smirked. "Okay....done" he said swiping his finger in the air. My eyes widened in hope that now I can live like normal people. I looked at my hand and the witch sign was gone.

That means..... that means I'm not a witch anymore? I was so happy. "T-thank you... thank you, my lord" I said with a smile on my face. I stood up. I said "I should go now-" he didn't let me finish "No" he said. It almost seemed like an order. I dared to look at him. And there was a sinister smirk on his face.

"I didn't give you permission to leave" he said and went up from the throne. And within a blink I was standing in front of me. I got frightened and took a step back with a gasp. "You scared?" He asked with a smirk. I didn't reply. "Are you?" He asked again tilting his head. ".... N-No" I replied.

"okay.... then come with me... let me show you something" I said with a grin offering a hand to me. I have to accept his hand and so I did. And within a blink we both were standing in front of the window. How fast is he? "Look at the kingdom. I own this. I'm gonna burn this place" he said. Now he was definitely terrifying me.

He placed a hand on my waist and pulled me against him. Now this is getting too uncomfortable. "And you'll be watching them die with me from here. And I'll kill them first who killed your family" he said. What does that mean?! "M-my lord I should go now" I said. "And I already said no" he said looking at me.

"you want to be loved, right?..... you'll be living here in my castle with me.... and I'll give you all the love you need" he whispered in my ear. My eyes widened. Oh no no no. This is not what I want. He wants to kidnap me in his castle?! Shit I don't have my powers anymore either. What should I do now?!

"what happened?" He asked and nuzzled his face on my neck. I took a deep breath and pushed him. Then ran all I could. I was running through the corridor and bumped into someone. Of course it's none other than Gojo Satoru. I don't have any ways now. I automatically started crying.

He smirked. "Didn't thought someone has the bravery to disobey me" he said and started walking towards me and I started walking backwards. "P-Please let me go I don't want that life" I cried. "Oh darling you don't know how much I love to see people crying. And for your life I'm the one have the power to decide how you'll live" he said.

Then he clapped his hand and we both were standing in a.... BEDROOM?! He grabbed my hand and pulled me against him. "Now tell me what you were saying?" He asked. "P-Please....let go... P-Please" I said. "Let you go? But didn't you wish to be loved? I'm giving you the love you deserve" he said while grabbing my ass and squeezing it.

I yelped at that. "P-Please I don't want to stay her-" before I could even complete my sentence he threw me on the bed and claimed on me. I screamed so loudly out of fear when threw me on the bed. "Didn't you say you're not scared? That seems like a lie now" he said and took off a strand of hair out of my face.

"it's been years since I was sealed. Never thought I'll get this gorgeous gift as soon as I get unsealed " he said with a smirk and pressed his lips on mine. I tried to push his chest but he grabbed my hands and held them beside my head while kissing me aggressively. He pushed his tongue inside my mouth.

I was shaking my head in protest but he didn't stop. When he stopped he immediately grabbed the top of my dress and tore it off. How strong is he??? He tore off a dress with Corset with his hands?! I almost screamed when he did. I covered myself and tried to crawl up.

He grabbed my hair and made me look at him. "Did I say to cover yourself???" He asked. His eyes shined. Tears falling down from my eyes. He smirked and licked my neck with his long tongue. I was shaking from fear. "You know seeing you scared makes me more turned on" he whispered.

I couldn't breathe. He grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head. My boobs bounced out. He looked at those with lust in his eyes. His eyes shined in the dim light. He didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensation. I grabbed his hair and tried to stop him by pulling it but it didn't even affect him. "M-my lord stopppp" I screamed but he didn't stop. "It's Satoru, darling.... I won't kill you if you call me Satoru"

Then he took off my pantie. He looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered " so wet. You naughty little slut, getting wet for me huh?". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction and undo his pants.

His dick sprang out. It was too big and too thick. "Look... this is what you have done to me..." he said while stroking his dick. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " S-Satoru no no no... P-please no... s-stop" I begged and called him Satoru as he said so maybe he listens to me? but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I screamed. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thrusting in and out roughly. I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder.

I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " you know.... you're the first witch I love....I always hated all the witches.... never seen such a gorgeous witch like you.... f-fuck what great present I got as soon as I got unsealed" he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrusts I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh... I don't want this ..." I moaned. "Do you still think you can make me stop?" He said with a smirk. I dig my nails more deeper into his back as he Marked me. He continued thrusting. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. He fell beside me on the bed.

"You need to be loved? I'll give you all the love you deserve..... now spread your legs again.... I'm not done yet.... I was sealed for over 500 years.... you don't expect me to stop right now, do you?" He said and chuckled demonicly.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[metalomagnetic]

Hello Metalo- after being tortured by Mal, I am in desperate need of some crack, so! In similar vein to canon Voldemort meeting all of his lovers, canon Sirius meets his:

- Bella from EMD, Bella 2.0 from Ouro

- Voldemort (from It runs and Mal)

- Astrid

- Andromeda and Lucius from Family

- James from Inevitable

- Greyback from The thrill of the chase

- Severus from Turmoil

What happens?

My guess on what he’d do depends on his age- the only certainty is that he’d bully Snape into a pulp. And that Mal V and It runs V would be duelling in the corner.

Sirius cannot accept there is a universe out there where he fucked Snape; he just refuses to believe it. It's impossible.

"I mean, it seems like you fucked Voldemort in another one, so-" James says.

Apparently Sirius fucked James, too, in yet another world. That, he doesn't doubt. He's happy; from all this insanity, since these people came here, since the skin crawling realisation he fucked Snape, the only joy he has is seeing James again. It's not his James, but it's a version of him, and Sirius hadn't left his side all night.

Now his eyes leave James, to look at Voldemort, sitting in a corner with Bella. "I can see it," Sirius says, with a wince, taking Voldemort in, his tall frame, his imposing stance, power crackling around him. "I'm sorry, but I can see that happening before Snape."

James snorts. "And look, you fucked two of your cousins. You dog!"

"It's not me!" Sirius protests. "I'd never-"

"Oh, shut up," James teases. "Even in my universe you had a thing with Bella. You never explained, but I know it happened."

Sirius takes another sip of his drink. "Andromeda at least said it's a marriage of convenience-"

"Yeah, so you could be with Malfoy-"

"Ugh." Sirius hides his face in his hands. "I truly am a dog."

"He does have pretty hair," James allows, with a smile, but he turns grim fast. "I'd rather that universe for you. You were happy, at least. I rather all other universes than the one you got-"

"No, don't say that! There's one where you were never born, where Voldemort won, and-"

"I'd take that for you," James insists. "You don't deserve this world. And they certainly don't deserve you, the fucking wankers, I can't even think of Remus abandoning you in Azkaban! He did that in my world, too, you know? You forgave him, but I never did."

Sirius breathes out, takes another sip of whiskey. "He's- I don't care anymore. I only care about Harry. Nothing else matters to me."

James hugs him, fiercely, and Sirius hugs back, basks in the opportunity to hold James, any version of James, one last time.

"You're like that in my world; you love us fiercely, and Harry adores you. You're his favourite dad, you know? Whenever he has a problem at school, he tells you about it; if he has a nightmare, he calls for you."

Sirius' heart swells, hearing it. Gods, what a lucky bastard that version of him is! He got to raise Harry, and he got James.

A young woman sits beside them at the table. "May I?" she asks, after she already sat down.

Both he and James nod. She's beautiful. Drop dead gorgeous. James kept looking at her through the night. Sirius checked her out a few times, too. Apparently, she's his wife, in the same universe he fucked Voldemort.

"I'm sorry to intrude," she says. "It's just that I cannot stand any of these people, besides Lucius. But this Lucius is...different. He left me alone to hide from the dark lord." Her nose twitches with distaste. Fuck, but she's adorable.

"Tell me about Sirius' kids!" James asks her. "I wanna hear all about them!"

Another Orion; apparently Sirius named all his sons, in all the universes, Orion. Something clenches in his chest, painfully. This particular one sounds like a handful, as the girl- Astrid- describes him.

I bet he isn't even close to how difficult the Orions born from Andromeda or Bella are. Those must be nightmares.

"No!" Sirius protests when he hears about Marvolo. "It's impossible I raised a snitch!"

Astrid smiles, a beautiful, mesmerising sight. James can't look away. Sirius elbows him in the ribs. "He's not a snitch! He is simply...fond of rules."

The third one, Helix, bites people. "That sounds like Sirius's son," James jokes.

"And, of course, there's Harry. He's a little angel, he never gives us any trouble, though you- my Sirius spoils him something awful."

James's hand tightens on Sirius' thigh, when he hears Astrid describe Harry as Sirius' son.

"Thank you," he whispers in Sirius' ear.

"Don't thank me," Sirius says. "Apparently I fucked your killer in that universe." He turns to Astrid. "Gods, you should leave me- I mean, the other me. He's clearly missing some marbles."

"You are a perfect husband, though," she frowns, clearly bothered. "I wasn't aware about the dark lord situation."

Sirius looks in Voldemort's direction again, meets those quite frankly mesmerising eyes, and quickly looks away.

I wonder who fucks who. He shakes his head to dispel the curiosity. Best not think about it too much.

"Maybe he has me under the Imperius," he mutters.

"Snivellus certainly gave you a love potion," James says, glaring daggers at Snape, sulking in a corner.

"Yeah!" Sirius is happy to take this explanation. "Definitely. That's what must have happened!"

"When I go back to my world, I'll tell my Sirius about it and we'll go bully Snape into an early grave," James promises, and Sirius is jealous, so jealous of that Sirius.

"Yeah, I'll bully mine, when he comes to Grimmauld," he mutters, but truth is, he is made to feel so useless, locked up, not allowed to help, that it's hard to bully anyone, isn't it?

"I cannot believe you allow all these blood traitors and mudbloods into your ancestral home," Astrid says. "These Order people."

James meets Sirius' eyes, and he knows they're thinking the same thing. Oh, that's what's wrong with her. She was too perfect, otherwise.

"How do I put out with this nonsense from you?" Sirius asks her, bluntly.

She shrugs. "You ignore it."

(-)

Andromeda and Lucius are the calmest of the lot, the most reasonable, really. Sirius can see himself having a marriage of convenience with Andromeda. She's always been practical, and the easier to get along from the sisters.

And Lucius....well, James is right. He has pretty hair. And apparently he renounced Voldemort in that universe.

Apparently, Cissa saved Harry's life. Good for her. Sirius hopes maybe...maybe Cissa from this universe will one day do the same.

He remembers she became a dragon whenever someone mistreated her porcelain dolls. He cannot imagine she's taking kindly to her son being inconvenienced by Voldemort.

Once again, his eyes stray to that corner. Once more, he meets that red gaze.

What the fuck happened there? Sirius is curious. Must be the Imperius, right?

Surely.

Speaking of questionable choices...

"You should have stayed with me," Greyback tells him, later, when Sirius makes his way to him. The wolf is playing with a knife, twisting the blade expertly. "It would have been a kinder fate than what you got."

Sirius opens his mouth to tell him he's not a traitor, that he would never fuck or stay with the man that ruined Remus' life, but...how can he say that, when apparently in another universe he fucked the man that killed James?

Greyback is a shit wizard, he can't be using Legilmancy, so it's just a weird coincidence that he says, " the dark lord, really? In my world, you'd cut your cock off before allowing him near you."

"I must have been coerced," Sirius mumbles. "And you probably caught me in a bad moment-"

Greyback laughs. "Oh, I caught you in many bad moments, little brat. And you enjoyed it every time."

Disgusting. Sirius moves away.

For some reason, even though Snape is the worst, he still finds himself walking towards him, even if he meant to head for Bella. Somehow, his mind apparently wants to avoid her more than Snape.

Snape won't look at him, arms crossed.

"You slipped me a potion, didn't you?" Sirius asks, hopeful.

Snape snorts. He raises his chin, defiant, but still won't look at Sirius.

He looks....better than actual Snape. He looks....washed, and dressed properly. With horror, Sirius realises that what Snape is wearing is what Sirius would enjoy seeing on a wizard-

"Oh, fuck," he mutters. The other me is dressing Snape!

Gods, how does that Sirius live with himself? Unbearable.

How does Snape live with himself? "Do you have a humiliation kink, or what the fuck is wrong with you?" Sirius hisses. I almost fed you to a werewolf, he wants to add, but Snape blushes, fiercely, and Sirius steps back, horrified.

Alright, best not to bully Snape, then. At least not this Snape.

Shit, what if my Snape shares this....misfortune?

No. He can't think about that.

(-)

For a few minutes, he sits with Bella in silence. He just can't think of what to say.

It's too painful. It's impossible that he'd-

And then she draws him into a hug, and- oh.

He hugs back.

"How is mum?" Sirius asks, in her hair. "And Regulus?"

"Good," she says. "Everyone is doing great. Our children are perfect. We have the perfect life, my lord made sure of it."

He doesn't want to fight with her. He fought with her enough. And it's useless, anyway. Sirius is apparently a fucking whore, in all these universes, trading lovers, shifting morals, but Bella- Bella is constant. In all the universes, she remains loyal to Voldemort. Her convictions never waver.

"Children? Plural? I heard you talking about an Orion-"

"We have five," Bella says, drawing back, with a smile.

"Five? What the fuck?!"

"The last two are twins. A surprise, later in life. I only kept them because one of them was the girl we both wanted."

Sirius blinks. "What's her name, then?"

She laughs. "We fought for nine months about it," she says. "I wanted-"

"Delphini," Sirius says, remembering, from his youth, as the girls talked about children, future marriages. Bella always said she'll have a daughter and name her Delphini.

Her eyes soften. She cups his cheek. "Yes," she whispers. "You wanted Walburga."

"Fuck out of here!"

"You were adamant. So her name is Delphini Walburga."

"That poor girl!" Sirius says, incensed on behalf of this child.

He spends a lot of time with Bella, more than he imagined he'd want. But he's mesmerised with her stories of home. Of a different home. A home Sirius apparently never left.

Would I have truly stayed in Grimmauld if there was no James in my life? Would life had been as easy? Or would Sirius feel something missing, even if he would never learned what?

(-)

There's no avoiding him any longer. He's the last one. Besides, he's the one that figured out how to get everyone back to their universes, and he needs Sirius' blood for a ritual to open a portal.

"Come." He leads Sirius to a different room, and Sirius has to follow him, though James looks after them, anxiously.

They enter a room, and there's a dead body on the floor-

"What the-" Sirius' mouth snaps shut when he sees who it is, there on the floor.

It's...Voldemort.

"Don't mind him," Voldemort says, kicking the body. "He had it coming."

Sirius stares between them. "There's two of you?!"

"Were," Voldemort corrects, his eyes staring into Sirius' soul.

"Wait, I fu- I had a thing with you in two worlds?" Now that is horrifying. Once is a mistake, but twice? There are two Sirius running around fucking two Voldemort?

Well, I suppose there's only one, now.

"No." Voldemort's eyes flash with furry when he looks down at the body. "You didn't have anything with this one. You didn't have a choice."

Oh.

Sirius blinks, relieved. Alright, so at least one version of him is sane. But the fact that this Voldemort apparently would kill himself for forcing Sirius-

That means, in Voldemort's world, he is not, in fact, holding Sirius under the Imperius.

The curiosity increases, tenfold. He likes me, it strikes Sirius. He likes me enough to kill for me.

How....awkward. "Congratulations," he blurts out. "On winning, I mean. You're not easy to take down."

Ah....there it is.

Voldemort smiles, and Sirius thinks he understands what the other Sirius sees in him.

The smiles transforms his face, makes it human. Handsome, even.

He has a dimple, for fuck sake.

No wonder Bella ends up fucking him in so many worlds, if he has that dimple.

"I admit, I had an ally," Voldemort says. "Bella, of course."

Of course? What? "No version of Bella would turn against any version of you!" Sirius insists.

No, it's not possible. Because if it's possible, then he'll spend the rest of his life wishing his Bella would do the same, and that only leads to heartbreak.

"This was an aberration," Voldemort says, gesturing at the body. "He shouldn't have been allowed to exist at all."

"You- I mean, you in this world- you're not that great, either."

"I gathered." Voldemort's jaw twitches.

"You looked like this," Sirius says. "In the first war. But now Harry says you look like a nightmare."

"I believe that's the least of his issues, here," Voldemort says, after some seconds.

"Can't argue with that." He bites his cheek. "Though, admittedly, I don't really know you. We haven't properly met."

"A tragedy," Voldemort says, and -

It throws Sirius off, how honest he sounds.

"I must be very impressive in your world," Sirius mutters.

To attract Voldemort's....attention like this, Sirius must be some amazing version of himself.

"You are."

Sirius has no idea what to say to that, what to do with the way Voldemort looks at him.

It's not with Greyback's predatory hunger, it's not with James' joyful eyes, not with Andromeda's care, or Lucius' desire.

No, it's....Sirius can't place it. Never has anyone looked at him quite like that.

Tender, almost, but not quite. Or, not only.

"Impressive like Bella? You're with her, here. At least that's the rumour."

Voldemort smiles again. "That is the rumour in my world, as well. And I can confidently say it is false."

A few seconds of silence pass between them. Voldemort keeps staring.

Sirius stares back.

"Your hand," Voldemort finally says. "I need your blood to complete the ritual."

"You can have the blood, you don't need the hand," Sirius snaps. The other version of him....gods know what is going on there, but Sirius can't make himself touch the man that murdered James, in any universe, no matter how curious he is.

That makes Voldemort smile wider. "Impertinent, as always," he comments, but it's' with fondness.

Sirius cuts his hand, collects the blood in a vial he conjures.

"You should remember this is who you are," Voldemort says, as he takes the vial. "Arrogant, proud, brave. You shouldn't allow the Order to treat you this way. Not after all you sacrificed for them."

It makes Sirius ill, physically ill, that Voldemort, out of all people, says this.

That everyone else in his world treats him like a reckless child, a burden that needs to be locked away, that they don't trust him to help, never recognise what he's been through, and here Voldemort is-

He shakes his head, pushes his anger down. "I don't care what they say. I am singularly focused on my goal, and they happen to be on the same side I am." Sirius only cares about Harry. And the Order does, as well. For that, Sirius is grateful. Harry needs all the people he can get in his corner.

"Why do you love that child so?" Voldemort asks. "I don't understand it. I need to understand it."

"He's all I have left of James," Sirius says. "He's all I have left."

Voldemort opens his mouth, but closes it again. He turns, and pours the vial on the runes he drew on the floor.

"Do you enjoy watching the stars, Sirius?"

It bothers him, the way Voldemort speaks his name, with such familiarity.

It bothers him Voldemort knows this about him.

Does that other Sirius also like to climb on the roof and stare at the stars?

"Yes."

Voldemort nods. "Next you do that, think there are many worlds, out there, where you have more than Harry Potter."

[theemporium]

here's the second instalment! i know i made the poll but i decided i was doing both options because i am indecisive, and i love max and trouble too much to abandon them

series masterlist

.

Max tapped his foot against the wooden floor, his eyes focused on some random poster on the wall of the cramped dental office. 

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like any of this. He didn’t like the idea that he was going to be put under. He didn’t like he wouldn’t be in control of anything for the next few hours. He didn’t like the fact that when he woke up, he would be woozy and unable to control the words that passed his lips. 

He didn’t like the lack of control. 

But the pain had reached a point of unbearable and he knew if he didn’t get this done, his mother would fly over and drag him into the dental practice by his ear—and that was something he certainly didn’t want. He would never live it down if journalists caught pictures of the three time world champion being berated by his mother like a whiny child. 

He hated the fact his stupid wisdom teeth were causing this many problems in the first place.

“Did you know that thirty-five percent of humans are born without wisdom teeth?”

Max’s head turned to look at you, his brows furrowed together. “What?” 

“A third of the human population aren’t born with wisdom teeth,” you repeated as you leaned back in your chair next to him, your knees brushing when you did. “Isn’t that weird?” 

“I would say they are lucky,” he grumbled honestly.

“And in Korea, they call them love teeth,” you continued, ignoring the confused look Max shot you. “Because they start to come through around the age people typically experience their first love.” 

“Does that mean it’s your fault I’m in pain?” Max teased, a hint of a smile on his face for the first time since he woke up that morning.

“Love is pain, baby,” you grinned back at him. “And did you know that the oldest record of wisdom teeth being impacted goes back almost fifteen thousand years ago—”

“What’s with all these fun facts?” Max questioned. 

“It’s what keeps you calm, no?” You said, looking at him with a fond expression he was still learning to not instantly blush over. “You maxsplain all the time and it helps you relax. I thought maybe maxsplaining wisdom teeth would help ease your nerves.” 

“So you learn a load of facts for me?” He asked, a giddy smile fighting its way onto his face.

“I did,” you said as you reached over to gently squeeze his knee. “I know you’re not gonna say it but it’s okay to be nervous. I’ll be waiting for you.” 

He gulped, nodding his head slightly in thanks and you knew better than anyone else that the nod was his own way of thanking you.

…

“Trouble? Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me, baby,” you grinned as you reached for his outstretched hand, trying not to snicker at the way he cuddled your palm to his chest. “How are you feeling?”

“They drugged me,” he mumbled out, his eyes blinking slowly as he ignored the dentist and nurses in the room and kept his focus on you. “Not the good drugs. The bad ones. I think they are trying to kill me.”

You snorted. “Nobody is gonna kill you while I’m around. Promise.”

“My hero!” He laughed, a little short lived as he seemed to realise the gauze in his mouth. “Baby, I don’t like this candy.”

“It’s not candy,” you said to the boy and watched as he instantly frowned. 

“I want candy,” he huffed out.

“Max—”

“Trouble, they tried to kill me! I’m a hostage!” He said, sounding exasperated and you had to lift your hand to cover your mouth in hopes he didn’t realise you were laughing. “I at least deserve some candy.”

“I’ll get you some on the way home,” you told the boy, unable to even pretend to act annoyed as he cheered in his seat as his head rolled back. 

“See, Janet!” He turned to the nurse who was standing on the other side of his chair and winked with both eyes. “Told you my good looks would work. She gave in.”

Janet laughed, shaking her head. “You were right, sweetie. You’ve got quite the catch there.”

Max sighed dreamily. “She’s the best.”

.

[pasukiyo]

Hey, ignore if u arent still doing requests but I've had this storyline in my head for ages and I think ur a perfect writer for tom. Basically, the reader is a muggleborn but she attends Hogwarts and it's like half term where they are all home for a break. Shes either avery or lestranges adopted sibling and it's kinda been kept a secret from tom because.. well yknow shes a muggleborn lol(he knows about her now because her adoptive brother had to explain before bringing Tom over) anyways so hes at every or lestranges house for some reason (you make it up) and shes in her room, her adoptive brother needs something so he asks tom to get it from her desk in her room and they preferably have 🌶 time. Sorry if it sounds stupid but I've been thinking about this for ages!!😭

𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | tom riddle

tom riddle x f!reader 8,104 words warnings: smut. sort of angst. also lots of prejudice against muggle-borns. read part two here. notes: reader is hufflepuff and muggle-born in this one. summary: every year, the lestranges will hold a christmas party for only the oldest of pure-blood wizarding families. every year you are locked in your room while the party rages downstairs, but everything will change when tom riddle is invited to this year’s party. everything…

 The Lestrange name definitely held some irony, considering how strange the family truly was. The Mother sent an owl at lunch, the rolled parchment dropping onto the plate in front of Tiernan Lestrange. On either side of him sat Clarence Avery and Liam Mulciber, who gazed down at the rolled parchment sealed with the Lestrange family crest with sparkling irises. 

 “Is it for the party, Lestrange?” Avery asked as Lestrange took another bite of his sandwich, dusting his hands off before finally taking a hold of the parchment, untying the ribbon keeping it closed. “More than likely,” he replied as the parchment unraveled, his mother’s handwriting gazing back up at him in inky black cursive letters. 

 ‘To my dearest son,

 Tell your friends they’re more than welcome to join us on Christmas Eve for the party. Invite that Head Boy you were writing to me about too. I am most interested to meet him, since you speak so highly of him. Remind the Girl that she is to not speak of the party, I simply cannot have any more of her kind in the house. I will see you at King’s Cross Station, my darling. 

 With all my love, your mother.’

 Of course, the Girl referred to the Hufflepuff sitting all the way across the Great Hall at her own House’s table, her head down as she ate, so as to not catch the attention of her brother or any of his friends. She didn’t choose this family— and if it were her choice, she’d be far away from them— and neither did they. 

 It was the fault of whomever it was who dropped her onto the Lestranges’ doorstep in the wee hours of the morning when she was only an infant. The Mother had given birth to her son only a few months before, and found the crying baby on her doorstep to be quite a burden. 

 She asked herself why the Mother and the Father even bothered keeping her, for even before they learned of her blood status, they hated her. Perhaps it was to uphold their reputation— taking in a child who wasn’t theirs? It was the perfect foundation for the story of a kind-hearted pure-blood family— how could the Lestranges let that opportunity go?

 Of course, behind closed doors, she was treated less than a family member, some would argue far less than a house elf. She may as well have been a house elf if you ask her. She was treated like how they believed anyone of her kind should be treated— a mudblood deserved to be treated like the rubbish they are, they’d say. 

 Up until she got her Hogwarts letter, she believed them. She believed she deserved to be treated this way, that she deserved to be put through the torture that came with living with the Lestranges. She believed she had filthy blood, demon blood. 

 But all of that changed the second she first stepped foot into Hogwarts. Of course, the Lestranges were at first very against letting her attend Hogwarts— mudbloods shouldn’t be taught magic, they’d say— but even they could only take so many letters flying through the fireplace or popping up in the stew before they gave in. Of course, she wasn’t allowed to tell anyone of her blood status— “you are not to tell anyone of your filthy blood status,” the Father had told her with an accusatory finger in her face. “As far as anyone is concerned, you are pure-blood. So I expect you to act like it.” 

 Her school robes and supplies were not as grand as Tiernan’s, and she wasn’t allowed an owl or a cat or a toad. But she told herself that she would make do with what she had, and she felt at least a little bit grateful that the Lestranges didn’t give her tattered secondhand, even third-hand clothes, even if she knew it was all for the act. 

 When the Lestranges found out she had been sorted into Hufflepuff however, oh, it gave them all the more reason to ridicule and torture her back at home. “Of course the mudblood is in the weakest House,” the Mother would mutter beneath her breath as she and her husband read the letter their son had written. “We were fools to think that old ratty hat would sort her into Slytherin.”

 Tiernan and his friends— they made certain that her life at Hogwarts was just as bad as her life at home. Of course, Tiernan was the only one who knew the truth about her blood, Avery, Mulciber, and the others just tagged along because they found it funny. They loved calling her names, making her trip in the hallways, pulling pranks such as jinxing her school books so that they may not open no matter how hard she tried. 

 And still, she didn’t dare stand her ground, for she knew all too well that the Mother and the Father would catch wind of it, and make certain that she’d be on the first train back to King’s Cross Station. So instead, she dealt with Tiernan and his friends, just like she learned to deal with everything else. 

 But Tom… Tom Riddle was different. 

 Tiernan Lestrange and his friends worshiped the ground Tom Riddle walked on, and it was no secret. She remembered when she first saw Tom, all the way back in the Sorting Ceremony in her first year at Hogwarts. She remembered hearing his name ‘Riddle, Tom’ being called and she remembered watching as he approached the platform, settling himself down onto the stool. 

 She remembered the way their eyes met and she swore her knees turned into jelly when she gazed into those dark ravines he had for irises. And she remembered when the Sorting Hat exclaimed “Slytherin!” hardly before it had even touched a hair on his head. 

 And she remembered how disappointed she felt when she was called up to be sorted, the Sorting Hat put her into Hufflepuff. She wanted to be a Slytherin— she wanted to be wherever Tom Riddle was. 

 In all her time at Hogwarts, she’d never even spoken a word to Tom Riddle. They’d pass each other in the halls, but thanks to her brother, she’d never been given the chance to even tell him hello. And Tiernan made it clear that she never would. 

 So life went on, and she got older. She hoped that over time, she’d forget about Tom. But it was hard when he was made prefect, and when he was given the Special Award for Services to the School, and when he was made Head Boy at the beginning of their seventh and final year. 

 She remembered her fifth year during all the attacks on muggle-borns vividly as if it were only yesterday. She remembered how frightened she was when she realized it was muggle-borns whatever it was was attacking. She remembered the panic she felt when Hogwarts was on the brink of being closed— she couldn’t have that! She belonged at Hogwarts, not out there with the Lestranges where she was treated like vermin. 

 At least here, she could pretend to be someone she was not. 

 Of course Tiernan was no help, always taunting her and teasing her that she’d be next. She remembered when she heard that it was Rubeus Hagrid who had freed the muggle-born killing beast, how although she felt that it could not be Hagrid, she felt a sense of relief when he was expelled, when all the attacks had stopped. 

 And of course it was Tom Riddle who caught him. And of course it just made her admire him more and more. 

 But she would keep her distance. She’d admire him from afar. She couldn’t begin to imagine the torment Tiernan would put her through if he found out she liked Tom Riddle. 

 “Yes! Looks like we’re invited, Mulciber,” Avery exclaimed, pumping his fist. Tiernan rolled his eyes at his friends, “you’re invited every year,” he replied, just as Tom entered the Great Hall, and they fell into silence as he approached. 

 She could see Tom over the tops of the heads of the Hufflepuffs in front of her, and she slowly sat up to get a better look. That was when Tom blinked up and she swore their eyes met, just for a moment, before he settled down into his seat, disappearing behind the heads of the other Hogwarts students. She felt herself flush as she hunched over her plate again, a small smile creeping onto her face. 

 “My Lord,” Tiernan Lestrange nodded as Tom settled himself between him and Liam Mulciber. Tom nodded in acknowledgement as he placed a few pieces of chicken onto his plate, and Tiernan’s gaze flickered from him to the rolled parchment in his lap. “My mother sent an owl,” he said, and Tom hummed in reply, nodding. Still, he said nothing. 

 Tiernan shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, and Tom, with his eyes slightly narrower than before, peered up at him, waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say. Tiernan turned pink beneath Tom’s stare, and he presented the letter to him, Tom’s dark eyes flicking down to the inky black words on the scroll. 

 “My family, we… we hold a Christmas party every year,” he said, and when Tom glanced back up at him, he flushed again. “And you would’ve been invited! But it’s only for the oldest pure-blood families, and, well…” Tiernan trailed off when he saw the shadow looming over Tom’s already dark gaze, and Mulciber and Avery shifted in their seats uncomfortably. 

 Tiernan cleared his throat again, “but I’ve been speaking very highly of you to my mother. She wants you to come,” he said, his lips curving into a smile. Tom pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he stared back up at Lestrange, handing back the parchment. “Yes, I know. I can read, Tiernan,” Tom said sternly, and Tiernan clawed at his knees to prevent himself from trembling. 

 “Yes… well…” Lestrange said shakily as he rolled back up the parchment, slipping it inside one of his pockets. “…I’d really love it if you come. We’ll all be there— me, Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, Nott— and our families too, so you can meet them all!”

 Tom took a bite out of one of the chicken wings on his plate, placing it back down before wringing a napkin between his hands, gesturing towards Lestrange’s robes with his head. “Who is your mother referring to when she speaks of ‘the Girl?’” He asked, and heat crept back into Tiernan’s cheeks until they glowed scarlet. “Oh, you know… my sister…” he muttered, and Tom’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t she refer to her daughter by name?” Tom questioned, turning his body to fully face Tiernan, his interest piqued. “What does she mean by she ‘cannot have any more of her kind in the house?’”

 The other boys leaned in to hear what Tiernan would say next, and he knew now that there was no way to get out of this. He’d have to tell the truth not only to his friends, but to his Lord. 

 “Forgive me, my Lord, for asking this of you,” Tiernan hung his head and muttered lowly towards Tom. “But I must ask that you promise you won’t tell another soul about this. This goes for all of you, too,” he said towards Tom and the rest of their group. Lestrange gazed into each of their eyes and held contact for a moment with each, to make it known that he was serious. 

 Tom shrugged, “I promise.”

 Tiernan inhaled a shaky breath, before finally saying, “she… as you know, is not my sister,” he began. “And she’s not pure-blood, either. She’s a mudblood.”

 Mulciber, Avery, and the others all leaned closer and broke into a sea of murmurs, “that sure explains a lot. But a mudblood? In the Lestrange family?” Tom remained silent as he stared at Lestrange, beckoning for him to continue. “Her filthy muggle parents left her on our doorstep after she was born. My mother and father took her in purely out of the goodness of their hearts,” Tiernan sat up and stuck out his chest proudly. “And they kept her, even when they learned where she came from. So you see now why she never comes to the party. Mother always tells guests she’s never home for the party anyways.”

 The boys all laughed and ridiculed her while Tom, again, remained silent, staring absentmindedly down at his plate. He wasn’t sure what to think, how to feel. All this time he’d spent watching her, only catching glimpses of her from afar when he felt a gaze on him, watching as she turned away whenever she saw him with Tiernan and the others. 

 All this time he secretly lusted after her, the outcast of her family, the black sheep of the family. All this time he felt some sort of connection to her, all this time he felt he could relate to her because he, too, felt like an outcast. The outcast of the orphanage he grew up in, the outcast of the Gaunt family, the outcast of his muggle father’s family. 

 Tom Riddle never belonged anywhere, but he belonged here, at Hogwarts. And he knew she felt the same. 

 But would things change now that he knew she was muggle-born? Should he feel disgusted with himself now for ever thinking of pursuing her, for ever thinking of taking her in whichever way he pleased? Was it wrong of him to still lust for her, to still think of having his way with her? 

 Tom was clever but this, this he wasn’t sure of. 

 “So where has she been hiding during the parties?” Liam Mulciber asked, and Tiernan Lestrange snickered. “Mother and father force her up into her room. Says they’ll punish her accordingly if they hear even the smallest of noises coming from her room,” he replied, the boys erupting into another fit of snickers. Tom was still silent as he stared at his plate— he suddenly didn’t feel like eating. 

 The next day, she and a group of other Hogwarts students waiting to go home for the holidays gathered at Hogsmeade station, waiting for the arrival of the train. She snuck glances over to where Tiernan and his friends stood together, Tom in the middle of them all. She flushed and turned away when his head began to turn, and she moved to hide herself behind a few of her fellow Hufflepuffs, safe away from Tom Riddle’s view. 

 The train’s whistle echoed as the train emerged, slowing down to a stop before them. She dared gaze back over to where Tiernan stood with his friends as she waited for the doors to open, and when she did, Tom was no longer looking her way. She let herself stare for a little moment longer before she felt someone tap her shoulder, and blinked at the Hufflepuff girl in front of her with brown skin and shoulder length black hair she recognized as Clara Wingrave. 

 “Are you coming?” Clara asked, a furrow in her brow. She blinked and nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat back down. “Yes, sorry Clara,” she mumbled as she followed the Hufflepuff girl onto the train, sliding into the seat opposite the one Clara chose. She sighed as she settled herself into the seat just as footsteps thundered through the train, and she hardly had any time to register what was happening before their compartment door slid open, revealing none other than Tiernan Lestrange, Clarence Avery, and Liam Mulciber, Tom and the other three boys nowhere in sight. 

 Clara narrowed her eyes at their intruders, “hey, go find your own—“

 “Shut it,” Mulciber hissed towards her. “No one allowed you to speak.”

 Clara’s glare hardened as Tiernan leaned down to block his adopted sister’s view, his lips curving into a cheshire grin. Her hands balled into fists, and she suddenly felt the strongest urge to slam them right into that crooked smile of his. 

 “Mother sent the owl this afternoon,” Tiernan muttered, and he needn’t elaborate, for she was already used to the rules she was forced to follow every year during the annual Lestrange Christmas party. “Oh yeah? And let me guess…  I’m not to speak of the party, I’m not to attend the party, I’m to stay up in my room and if I make even the smallest of noises, I’ll be punished accordingly? Is that all?” She asked quietly, so that the girl across from her could not hear. 

 Tiernan scowled and grabbed for her throat, much to Clara’s shock as she shrieked, giving her a firm shake. She pressed her lips closed and gazed into Tiernan’s dark umber eyes as they gleamed with mischief. “You dare give me attitude?” He tsked. “You just wait. I’ll tell mother and father about this and—“

 “—Tiernan? Won’t you leave her alone for Merlin’s sake, the train is about to leave.”

 She along with Clara, Tiernan, and his friends snapped their heads to the open compartment door where the Head Boy now stood, a furrow in his brow. He narrowed his eyes every so slightly, and he looked irritated. She flushed when she saw him and turned away as Tiernan released her, dusting off his clothes. She glimpsed up at him as he turned to leave, not without making sure to flash a dirty look her way over his shoulder before he slid the compartment door closed behind him. 

 “What the hell was that about?” Clara gasped and shook her head in disbelief. “I know it is common for siblings to fight, but that was just absurd.”

 She shook her head as she shifted in her seat, gazing out the window as the train began to move, and Hogsmeade station grew further and further away until it disappeared altogether. 

 “He’s not my brother.”

 The train ride back to King’s Cross Station seemed to go by quicker than usual, much to her dismay. She wished she could stay on the train forever rather than have to go back to living with the Lestranges, and wished that she had an invisibility cloak so that she could hide and be on her way back to Hogwarts within the hour. 

 But, since she didn’t, she sighed as she collected her bag with her few belongings and exited her compartment, stepping out of the train and onto Platform 9¾, where her eyes immediately fell upon the Mother and the Father where they stood, eyes narrowed when they fell upon their muggle-born adopted daughter. She huffed as she made her way over to them, standing beside the Mother with a considerable amount of distance between them. 

 “Where is my son?” The Mother asked through gritted teeth, and she shrugged her shoulders. “He and his friends should be getting off soon,” she replied, not daring to turn to look at the Mother. Sure enough, almost as soon as she finished saying it, there stepped out Tiernan and his friends, Tom Riddle close behind. The other boys left to greet their own parents, but Tiernan and Tom made their way over to where she stood beside the Lestranges, and she flushed. 

 Why was Tom coming over here?

 “Tiernan,” the Mother smiled, drawing her son into her chest for a hug. “And you must be… Tom, is that right? Hogwarts’ Head Boy?”

 She glanced over to where Tom stood, a charming smile plastered his face and she could feel heat creep back up her neck. She turned away from him before he could catch her staring.

 “It is nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Lestrange,” Tom greeted them, shaking Mr Lestrange’s hand and giving the top of Mrs Lestrange’s a polite kiss. “Oh!” Mrs Lestrange giggled. “I like this one. The manners!”

 Tom flashed his best smile but snuck a glimpse over to where the Lestranges adopted daughter stood, her arms crossed over herself as she looked anywhere but at him. He eyed her up and down just as Mrs Lestrange clutched either of his forearms, and he was forced to tear his attention away from the girl behind her.

 “Tiernan here tells me you’re from the orphanage?” Mrs Lestrange asked and Tiernan felt like shriveling away beside Tom. Tom only nodded in reply to which Mrs Lestrange tutted, “how about this? You’re welcome to come and stay with us for the holidays. We’d be delighted to have you.”

 She froze at this and her lips fell agape with the intent to protest, but nothing came out. She knew nothing she said would matter anyways, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle being around Tom for the entirety of the holidays. She’d been comfortable leaving him at a safe distance away from her at school, but now she’d have to deal with seeing him at the Lestranges? She simply wouldn’t be able to trust herself being around him for so long. 

 “Thank you for your hospitality,” Tom beamed as Mrs Lestrange fussed over him, leading him away from the platform, and she, the Father, and Tiernan followed close behind. Tiernan made a point of ramming his shoulder into her every once in a while, and it took everything within her to control herself, to not shout or push him away. The Father saw this was happening but did nothing to stop it. 

 It wasn’t longer before they finally entered the Leaky Cauldron and made their way to the fireplace, and they each grabbed a handful of Floo Powder. The Father went first, then Mrs Lestrange, and Tiernan before it was down to her and Tom. It occurred to her that this was the first time they had ever been alone together, and she forced herself to look away as he stepped into the fireplace. 

 Tom was no stranger to her shy nature. He tilted his head to try and get a better look at her, watching as she peeked over at him only to find he was staring, and looked away again. He smiled, exclaimed “Lestrange Manor!” and he was gone, leaving her alone. 

 Soon, she too was back in the Lestrange Manor, and she nearly ran into Tom where he stood just before the fireplace. Her palms instinctively fell onto his back to find her balance, and oh, how she felt she’d explode where she stood. 

 It was the first time she had ever touched Tom, and she truly did not expect him to be so warm. Tom glanced back over his shoulder when he felt her hands on him and swiftly stepped out of her way, feeling her touch lingering on his back where she had touched him. Something ignited within him at that touch, and every doubt he had about still wanting to pursue her seemed to fray away. 

 He wanted her. 

 “Welcome to our home!” The Mother exclaimed with a smile as she dusted off the shoulder of Tom’s coat where some ash had fallen, letting her palms soothe back down all the way to his elbows. “Tiernan will show you where you will be staying. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

 She began to follow Tiernan and Tom as they headed for the staircase leading to the next level, but just before she could, the Mother grabbed her by the elbow and tugged her backwards to face her and the Father. She scowled down at her adopted daughter as soon as she made certain Tom was out of sight and leaned down until they were eye level. 

 “Listen to me, girl, and listen to me good,” the Mother said lowly. “You are to be on your best behavior while we have a guest in the home. You are to stay up in your room for the holidays except for meals, do you understand me, girl?”

 She blinked— normally, she’d hate the fact that she had to stay up in her room all hours of the day, but instead, she felt relief surge through her. At least she wouldn’t have to see Tom, at least she wouldn’t make a fool out of herself in front of him. 

 “Yes, Madam Lestrange,” she said as the Mother released her elbow, and the Father stepped forward, leaning down to eye level.

 “And you mustn’t leave your room under any circumstances during the party tomorrow evening,” he muttered. “If I hear even the smallest of sounds coming from your bedroom, I will punish accordingly and do understand, I will not show mercy.”

 She heard this rule every year, but still to this day, the way the Father threatened her sent chills down her spine. “Yes, Mr Lestrange,” she nodded and when the Father waved her off, she walked as fast as she could towards the stairs, practically sprinting up the steps and down the hallway until she finally reached her bedroom. 

 Tom and the rest of the Lestranges were already in the dining room when she finally bounded down the steps, and he could tell Mr and Mrs Lestrange were using all the self restraint they had within them to not blow up at her, most likely for his sake. He watched as she sat down across the table from where he and Tiernan sat, carefully only placing a small selection of food onto her plate. 

 He glanced back over to where Mr Lestrange sat on one end of the long dining table before looking over at Mrs Lestrange on the other end. Neither paid her any attention, or showed any intention of speaking to her. She didn’t seem to want to talk either. 

 “So, Tom, Tiernan tells me you’re exceptional at Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Mr Lestrange said, shaking Tom from his thoughts. He forced a small smile as he nodded, wiping his hands on his napkin. “Yes, actually, I wish to become Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher one day.”

 She listened as she finished her dinner as quickly as she could, but she didn’t stick around to hear the rest of Tom’s story. She gazed over at the Mother who only nodded that she may be excused before she gathered her plate and hurried off to the kitchen where the Lestranges house elf cleaned. 

 “Thank you for the food, Gimbel,” she nodded at the house elf who only nodded back as she set her dirty plate on the pile of unclean dishes the house elf had stacked on the countertop. She hurried back upstairs where she shut herself in her room, sighing as she fell onto her mattress. 

 All she had left to endure was breakfast tomorrow morning, and she’d be free of seeing Tom for the rest of the day. She rested her arm over her eyes, her heart beating against her chest. She couldn’t believe the boy she’s been pining after since her first year is in her house, staying in only a few rooms down from hers. How she wished she could talk to him, to treat him like a guest rather than act like he wasn’t even there at all. 

 She even, for a moment, wished she was a true member of the Lestrange family, so that she could be treated as an equal. 

 Tom hardly saw her for breakfast the next morning, for as soon as he and Tiernan had entered the dining room, she was seemingly finished with her food, and once again scurried off towards the kitchen as she did the night before. Tiernan scoffed when he saw this as they took their seats on one side of the long dining table, loading their plates with biscuits and bacon and eggs. 

 “I apologize for her… strange behavior, my Lord,” Tiernan muttered to home as Tom took a sip of milk. “She’s always like this, you see.” Tom didn’t care to listen to whatever else Tiernan had to say about his adopted sister. Tom had already made up his mind about her, it was how he’d find the chance to talk to her that was the problem. 

 She seemed to avoid him like the plague, and he knew he more than likely wouldn’t be seeing her at all the rest of the day, since the Lestranges locked her in her room while they hosted their party. Tom was clever, so surely he’d be able to find a way around it?

 But as the time for the party to begin approached, he still came up with nothing. He had no excuse for wanting to see her, and with Tiernan practically breathing down his neck, he hadn’t any chance of sneaking away any time soon. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to see her at all when the party began and Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, and Nott all came rushing towards him and Lestrange. He had no space absolutely no space and no time to sneak away. 

 “Don’t worry,” Lestrange was saying to his friends. “The mudblood is upstairs in her bedroom. Won’t be coming out at all tonight, that one.” The boys snickered as they called her names and made jokes about her, but Tom wasn’t listening. Even though it seemed as if all hope of seeing her tonight was lost, he was still thinking of every possible excuse he could come up with to sneak away. 

 But fortunately, he wouldn’t have to contemplate for much longer. 

 “Blast,” Lestrange cursed, feeling around his pockets. Clarence Avery furrowed his eyebrows as he watched his friend, the others soon joining in. “What is it?” Liam Mulciber asked as Lestrange emptied each of his pockets, coming up with nothing. “Left my damn wand in my room,” Lestrange muttered, and Tom perked at this. Lestrange turned to Tom and stepped closer to murmur close to his ear, “forgive me for asking you of this, my Lord, but I simply do not trust the others. Will you go upstairs and retrieve my wand for me? I can’t go upstairs, mother and father said I need to stay down here.”

 If Tom was the type, he’d laugh and jump up and down at the request. All day he had been trying to come up with some sort of excuse to slip away from the party, and now he finally had one. He cleared his throat and nodded, “of course,” he said to Lestrange before making his way over towards the staircase, but he did not stop at Tiernan’s bedroom door as he passed. 

 Instead, he walked a little further down the Lestranges upstairs hallway, stopping at the last door on the left where she was, the black wooden door the only thing separating him from her now. Tom raised a fist to the door and knocked, and for a moment, it was silent on the other side. 

 Who could possibly be knocking at her door?

 She knew it could not be any of the Lestranges, for they would’ve just burst through the door without any respect for her privacy anyways. It couldn’t be Gimbel either, the house elf never came to her room. She grew weary as she closed her book and set it down on the mattress beside her, clearing her throat before murmuring a low, “come in.”

 She watched as the handle to her door twisted and it swung open, and when she saw who was standing there in her doorway, she felt as if all the air had been knocked from her lungs. She’d only ever dreamed of Tom Riddle being in her bedroom, but never before did she actually think he’d really come in here. 

 But there he was. There Tom Riddle stood, closing the door behind him and turning to gaze at her where she sat on her bed, his eyes entrancing as they were dark. Even from across the room, his irises seemed to pull her in like they were magnets and she was metal, and she lost herself further and further into his soul…

 “Forgive me,” Tom said, and she blinked. Those were the first words she had ever heard him direct towards her. “I would not usually barge into a lady’s room like this.”

 Fire raged across her skin, up her neck, and to her cheeks until they were seared with flame. She suddenly had the strongest urge to open the window, wondering if she had broken into a sweat yet or not. 

 She blinked again, and the corner of Tom’s lips curved into a soft smile. He knew he already had her wrapped around his finger. 

 “Your brother thought he left something in here,” he said, gesturing towards her desk against the far wall of the room. “May I?” 

 She could not think of anything Tiernan could have possibly left in her room, but she wouldn’t dare question Tom, so instead she nodded, and she watched as he strode across the room, opening her desk drawers and sifting through its contents. 

 Of course, Tom wasn’t searching for anything. But she needn’t know that yet. 

 “Hm,” Tom hummed, closing the drawers he had opened and turning to face her again, leaning back against the wooden desk. “Perhaps, your brother was mistaken.”

 She felt small underneath Tom’s gaze, and she felt as though she could curl herself into a ball right now and shrivel away. But instead she sat still on her bed, unable to speak, unable to move. Tom chuckled and she pinched her bottom lip between her teeth, mentally cursing herself for being so shy. Typical Hufflepuff, she could imagine her adopted brother sneering. 

 “You know, you should really join the party,” Tom said, hoping to break the ice between them. She soothed the skin of her arms with her palms and rubbed at her elbows, shaking her head. “The Mother and the Father won’t let me attend,” she managed to speak at last, and she gulped down the lump in her throat. 

 Although Tom already knew the answer, he still tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Why is that?” He asked, and she swallowed again, forcing back down the truth. She dropped her head and shrugged, “because I’m different.”

 Tom blinked, and he suddenly felt like he was ten years old again, still living at the orphanage he grew up in. For over ten years, he grew up unlike all the other children, and even at an early and young age, he knew that he was different. It wasn't until Albus Dumbledore came to visit him that he finally understood why he felt this way. 

 It was different in her case, because at least she knew why she was different. But they were still treated the same, like they were misfits, rejects, outcasts. It was then that he understood the connection he felt towards her with a different meaning, that he first noticed this string tethering them together. 

 They had both been lost before, but just like he had found himself, she could be found too. Tom could be the one to find her, for he seemed to be the only one who understood her. 

 Tom’s footsteps permeated her bedroom as he made his way over towards her bed, setting himself down on the mattress beside her. She flinched when she felt the bed dip beneath his weight, and it was then that it occurred to her just how close he was. 

 They had never ever been this close before. 

 “Why are you different?” He asked, gazing down at her as she peered up, their eyes meeting closer than they ever have before. For a moment she said nothing, only continued to lose herself further in the dark depths of the treacherous caverns that were his eyes. He studied her— her eyes, her eyebrows, her nose, her cheeks, her chin, her lips. 

 It was no secret that she was beautiful, even Tom could admit that. But she was vulnerable, it was clear the moment Tom met her eyes again. And Tom could work with vulnerability. 

 “Well…” she trailed off, contemplating how much she should tell him. Tom’s fingers grazed against her knee and she trembled, her eyes flicking down to his hand and back up to his face. “You can tell me,” Tom said warmly. “You can tell me anything.”

 She blinked. Never before had she heard those words. Nobody has ever wanted to hear her story before, for they all thought they already knew it all by now. She was the child who was left on the Lestranges doorstep as a baby, the child the Lestranges took in to ‘raise as their own’ because they just couldn’t bear giving such a young girl away since they were so kindhearted. 

 So never had she ever thought she’d be given the chance to tell someone about herself, to let someone read her story. But there was something about Tom, and she felt like she could trust him. 

 “I’m… I was left on their doorstep as a baby,” she began, and Tom nodded, encouraging her to continue. “I was… I am muggle-born…” she trailed off, wincing as she searched Tom’s face for disgust, but he didn’t even recoil. He only gazed at her with that same patient stare, waiting for her to keep going. 

 So she did. 

 “They hate me for it,” she added. “For having dirty blood. I’m not sure why they kept me, I could’ve been a Squib or not even a witch at all for that matter. Thankfully, I got my Hogwarts letter when Tiernan did.” She wrung her hands together in her lap, Tom’s warmth drawing her even closer to him. “It certainly didn’t help that I wasn’t sorted into Slytherin.”

 She swallowed the lump in her throat back down again, and Tom let his palm rest on her knee again, his touch warm, like a kiss from the sun itself. She felt relaxed when he touched her, despite how nervous she actually was inside. 

 “They treat me… so bad,” she whispered. “They treat me like I’m nothing.”

 Her voice wavered before it broke, and when it was clear that she wouldn’t be able to continue, the hand that had previously been resting on her knee retreated so that it may instead reach her face. Gently, he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her face up to his, her teary eyes searching his for something, anything she could hold onto. Warmth, comfort, reassurance, hope, anything. 

 So Tom would tell her what she wanted to hear. 

 “You are not nothing,”  Tom murmured, and her lip quivered the longer she stared at him. “You are somebody. Don’t let them take that feeling away from you.”

 She blinked and her brow softened, her vision blurring with tears. She was somebody. Tom Riddle thought she was somebody. 

 And somehow, that seemed to be all she needed to hear. 

 A silence ensued and they only gazed deeper into one another’s eyes. With the grip still on her chin, he drew her near and he leaned down to meet her halfway, his lips pressing against hers softly, as tenderly as he could. He felt the way she shuddered under his touch, as if his kiss was a tranquilizer, and she was becoming limp and pliant, all for him. 

 So he kissed her deeper, he kissed her harder. His tongue was warm in her mouth as she let him reign dominance over her own, her hands shaking as one cupped the side of his face and the other grabbed his bicep. 

 This was what Tom Riddle had been fantasizing about for years. To have her compliant beneath him, to have her completely under his control. He loved how easy it was, how easy it was to have her. Although he’d admit, this connection he felt towards her was growing, and it was growing at an alarming rate. As he pushed her down onto the mattress and trailed his kisses down from her lips to her jaw, he found that his heart burned, as if she had set it aflame, and this feeling was foreign to him. 

 He had no idea what this tenderness he felt was, whether he dared call it love or not. For eighteen years, he was under the impression that he couldn’t love, that love simply just wasn’t in the cards for him, and he was completely okay with that. 

 But this feeling, whatever it was he felt for her, came unexpectedly, and he was unsure whether or not he should embrace it or push it away. 

 For now, he worked at unbuttoning her blouse as he sucked marks into her neck, his tongue swirling around her collarbone. 

 She pressed her lips together to contain her noises as Tom slipped her blouse from her shoulders and down her arms, discarding it down onto the floor altogether. He made quick work of her brassiere, his lips previously kissing her collarbone venturing down between the valley of her breasts, sucking marks onto either mounds of flesh. 

 “T… Tom,” she mewled as he pressed a kiss to one of her nipples, kneading her opposite breast with his palm. He hummed in reply, gazing up at her through hooded lids as he sucked the erect bud, releasing it with a wet pop before doing the same to the other. She squirmed beneath him and squeezed her eyes shut, arching her back up off of the mattress. “T… Tom, I… they will punish me if they hear me.”

 Tom smirked against her skin as he released her nipple from his mouth and kissed down her stomach, past her belly button, all the way to the hem of her skirt. He pushed himself up by the elbows as he hooked his fingers over the hem, beginning to tug them down her thighs. 

 “Then I suggest you stay quiet,” he said simply as he removed her skirt from her ankles, her panties soon joining the sea of clothes on the floor as well. 

 She sank her teeth down into her bottom lip so hard when he placed a kiss just above her aching clit, she feared she’d draw blood. Tom eyed her through his hooded stare as he teasingly dipped his tongue past her folds, testing the waters. He watched as her face scrunched and she kicked her legs, arching her back at just the simplest of touches. 

 So eager, he thought. 

 He soothed her stomach with one of his palms as he pecked her clit, watching the way she trembled and writhed, whining behind closed lips, silent pleading for more. Tears broke past the glossy barrier of her eyes and began to spill down her cheeks like crystals, and he smirked as he pressed his lips down against her heat, sucking her clit as it throbbed and ached to be touched. 

 She threw her hands down on the mattress on either side of her, her fingernails clawing at the sheets as he flicked his tongue up and down her slit, humming at the taste of her nectar on his tongue. She tried to watch as he lapped up the juices spilling down her folds before flicking his tongue against her bud again, but she couldn’t even hold herself up, much less keep her eyes open for longer than a few seconds. 

 “P… please,” she mewled quietly as one of her hands ventured down between her legs to grip at his hair, and she ground her hips against his face, eager for more. That was when Tom stopped and pried her hand away from his head, and she blinked up at him through her bleary eyes. 

 “Do you want to come?” He asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, shouldering it off of him and tossing it to the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes. She gaped at the sight of his chest, but he grabbed her face again and forced her to look at him, squishing her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. “I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question.”

 She trembled and felt her walls clench at his words, nodding up and down. “Yes. Yes please,” she whimpered as he tore his hand away from her face to work on his belt, tossing it and his trousers away until he stood before her completely in the nude, in all of his glory. 

 He was beautiful. And he was already beautiful to begin with but this, she never could have even imagined how he looked underneath the clothes. He wasn’t muscular or built like a statue or even a Quidditch player, but still, his arms and torso were toned, and his cock…

 She could feel her patience slipping away the longer he kept her waiting. She watched as he took a hold of his cock and stared down at her, maintaining eye contact as he gave himself a few pumps, his other hand absentmindedly stroking up and down her slick. She bit down onto her lip as she gazed up at him, watching him in anticipation for what was to come next. 

 Tom leaned back down to her face and captured her lips with his, unable to resist the temptation any longer. He kissed her again and again and again as he slipped inside of her, her moans muffled by his mouth on hers. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders and dug her fingernails into his skin, etching crescent moons into his flesh. Tom broke their kiss and let his forehead drop onto hers as he rocked his hips into her, slowly at first. One of her hands slithered to cup the back of his neck as tears streamed down the sides of her face, never feeling this good in all her years. 

 Tom let his gaze fall upon her face again, her eyelids squeezed shut but her face scrunched in pleasure, every once in a while muffling her sounds by pressing her face into his shoulder. He began to thrust harder than before, her legs wrapping around his waist and squeezing, beckoning him further inside of her. So he fucked her harder, and harder and harder and harder as if he intended to break her, to shatter her into a million pieces. 

 And maybe that was the goal all along. 

 Never has Tom felt this good, never had he felt so intoxicated by another person, and never did he believe he could be so attached to someone else before. Part of him hated it, part of him wanted to throw it away and stomp on it and set it on fire. 

 But the other part of him embraced it, another part of him felt powerful as he fucked into her with reckless abandon, powerful having someone underneath his control. He never imagined another person could feel so good, he never imagined someone else could make him feel so infinite. As far as he was concerned, he was doing just fine on his own. 

 But this was different. This was on a whole other level of power. He felt strong, even when she clenched around him and gushed around his cock, even when he felt himself so close to the edge, so close to releasing himself for another person. 

 He pushed away from from her and groped her chest with one hand, holding onto her shoulder with the other as he fucked her harder than before, without a care for how much noise they were making. He’d make it up to the Lestranges, he’d go down and tell them it was him making all the noise, it wasn’t like they’d punish him. 

 For now, he focused on chasing his release, on the way she felt around him, on the way he was so close to climax he could practically taste it. She sobbed beneath him and her lips fell agape with the intent of screaming his name but he clapped his hand around her mouth before she could as he thrusted again and again and again until finally he released, and warmth surged through her. 

 Tom’s chest heaved and he fell on top of her as she cried, motionless beneath him. Sweat made her skin glisten and tears made her cheeks swollen and sticky, but he found that he admired her all the same. 

 This warmth in his chest was new, and it was a feeling he couldn’t quite place or put a finger on. But if whatever it was could make him feel like he was on top of the world, like he was the most powerful being on this Earth, like he was infinite…

 …then surely he could learn to embrace it. 

a/n; oop this is the longest imagine i’ve ever written 🙈 thank you so much for the request anon! i wrote this one up pretty fast because i really liked the idea, it definitely wasn’t stupid! so i hope this is close to what you’ve been imagining!! and feel free to send in more requests if you’d like! i love writing requests!

| 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

@darkmoviesquotespizza 🥹🫶

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

I have an idea I would love to request but I wanted to check with you first! I couldn't help but think Astarion would be so infuriated & confused by me. Like when he held a knife at their throat, they're willing to give him a chance. Their reason is he has no real reason to trust them since he doesn't know them at all so they would show to him that they can be trusted. Then he's more confused when the first time he tries to drink blood from them, reader is shocked then immediately asks questions if it hurts, do they need to be healed, how should their position be so it's easier for him to drink, what would happen after that, etc. Even after he drank & they were feeling the effects, they asked if he still needed more. He answered them no confusedly before they were satisfied with his answer then passed out. He is both relieved and baffled at what just happened. What do you think of this? Please tell me if you're not interested! Thanks!

Local Vampire Spawn confused by care and offers of friendship, more at eleven.

~

Astarion, surprisingly, had gotten pretty lucky when it came to his newfound traveling companions. Two master swordsmen, a barbarian tiefling menace, and a Shar priestess were about the best one could ask for when it came to having protection. He could probably do without the do-gooder druid and walking time bomb of a wizard, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

And then there was you. The unofficial leader of the merry band of weirdos. Hyper competent, kind, and a powerful, and admittingly gorgeous, warrior. You would be perfection if you weren't so... frustrating.

Simply put, Astarion thought you were an idiot. A well-meaning, naive idiot, but a moron nonetheless.

What other explanation was there for your delusional trust in him? Your introduction had involved him pressing a damned blade to your throat, with every intent to kill you if you decided to struggle. Maybe even if you hadnt, if you had been alone. The correct response to a first meeting of that caliber would be to completely disregard him. Or kill him, for someone who had any conception of self-preservation.

But no, instead you gave him the offer to come with you, like that wasn't an absolutely insane thing to do. You had been so understanding, insisting that his penance for trickery and threats was justified. That you would be sure to earn his trust, like that was something worth obtaining.

At first, Astarion tried not to look too deeply into it. You were all going through hell, it made sense to travel in a pack, to find solidarity in others while trapped in a land full of endless horrors. It would explain why you kept the violate gith and the walking bomb around, despite their faults. There was also that foolish air of empathetic care about you at all times that helped explain things, one that extended far past Astarion himself. Though it did have limits. Astarion had borne witness to how unforgiving you could be when someone manipulated your trust. Though he completely agreed that the Hag known as Auntie Ethel fully deserved a slow, painful death, he hadn't been prepared for just how... literal you would take it.

So while you weren't completely without common sense, you still lacked a good deal of it. Like the fact that letting a vampire spawn drink your blood at night wasn't included in those same limits.

He hadn't even meant to open that particular door of feeding on you. It was just... so terribly hard to resist. You smelled divine, the scent of your blood always lingering beneath the surface of your skin. Cloying and decadent, the slightest whiff nearly enough to make his mouth water. He had been trying so damn hard to hide his true nature, feeding on whatever he could find in the dead of night. But none of it felt like enough. It should have been, he had more access to sustenance in the forest than he ever had under Cazedor's thumb. And wild boar were certainly better than sewer rats at the least.

But it wasn't enough to tame his growing desire for your taste. It had just happened. One moment he was simply on his own bedroll, staring up at the stars. And in the next the hunger was overtaking him. He was crawling over you before his mind could even catch up to his actions, his mouth already widening.

And then you woke-up, startled enough to knock Astarion out of his all-consuming thirst. You scrambled to your feet, staring at him with wide eyes as he struggled through an explanation. He had every expecation that this was it. This as the moment you would toss him to the side, realizing once and for all that he wasn't worth the danger.

But instead you just nodded along, the first question out of your mouth when he finished a simple, "Will it hurt?"

Astarion blinked at you, confused at you lack of reaction. He had admitted to being a literal monster for gods' sake. And that's what you were most curious about?

"Yes," Astarion said slowly, watching your face for every microexpression, "It will hurt, briefly. Then the pain fades into something a bit more... tolerable."

You nodded, asking another question, "Would I need healing after? Or would a bandage be enough? I would hate to wake Shawdowheart so late."

That was-he-were you actually considering this?

Astarion shook his head, hope and excitement starting to bubble to the surface, "No, a bandage should be fine. You might want her to top you off with something in the morning, but it won't be anything that can't wait."

"Okay," You said, nodding to yourself once before meeting his eyes with a determined gaze, "In that case, should I lay down? Or would standing be better?"

Astarion could scarcely believe your willingness. Part of him wanted to ask if you were sure that you wanted to do this, but his sheer lust for the taste of your blood shut that part down. Instead Astarion was reaching for your hand, gently tugging you down to lay back on your bedroll.

"This will be perfect," He murmured as he crawled back over you, his fangs protruding on their own accord, "Now stay still darling, we don't want to tear anything, do we?"

Astarion could just make out a lovely flush grace your cheeks at the pet name, barely visible by the campfire. It was a good look on you, that mixture of embarrassment and nerves, one that he wouldn't mind seeing again. But for now he had other appetites to attend to.

Astarion bit down, nearly moaning when the divine taste hit his tongue. Somehow it managed to taste even better than it smelled, warm ambrosia sliding down his throat, filling him with pure energy. It was an exhilarating experience, so much better than anything he'd ever tasted before. It was nearly too good, decadent enough for him to feel greedy.

He could feel you shaking under him, letting out the occasional whimper and whine. He was vaguely aware that this had been going on for too long, that he was taking too much. But it was so damn hard to resist.

It wasn't until you were gently pushing at him, whimpering, "I-I think that's enough."

There was the slightest touch of fear in your voice, the only thing that worked to pierce through his bloodthirsty haze. Astarion rolled off of you, licking his lips with a happy sigh. That was... better than he could ever have imagined.

He hopped up to his feet, sticking a hand out to help you do the same. You seemed woozy and unsteady as you stood, proving his suspicion that he had taken too much. It made the smallest lick of guilt creep up his spine. But it's not like you were ever going to let him do it again, he might as well indulge-

"Are you sure that was enough?" You asked, completely derailing his train of thought, "Will you be okay with just that? Or should we try again in a few hours?"

Were you actually insane?

"No my friend. I think I'll be fine," Astarion said carefully, "Another night perhaps. But, uh, are you okay?"

You shrugged, already sinking back down to your knees, snuggling back into your bedroll like nothing was out of the ordinary, "I'm sure I will be. Just a little tired now is all. Good night."

And then you were closing your eyes, out like a light while Astarion stood above you. Confused beyond belief. That was... how were you still alive? If this was the kind of thing you were willing to do for a near stranger, with nearly 0 reservations?

It was insane, idiotic, stupid. And now you just fell asleep right in front of the same man who cannibalized your blood? What the fuck was that? How was one supposed to respond to that? Astarion was grateful yes, beyond so. He went on to have a very successful hunt, even if his catches tasted worse than ever, they still left him feeling satisfied and capable. But he was plagued with thoughts of you the entire time. Thoughts that followed him through to the morning and the days to come.

You were so damn lucky that he was the spawn that was kidnapped. Half of his brethren would have already used your trust to bleed you dry before fleeing into the night. Gods knows what would have happened to you if it was Cazador who was taken in his place. That thought alone was enough to make shiver, clouding his brain with a massive discomfort at what someone like that would do with someone as... kind as you.

Astarion would never allow it. As stupid as you were, it didn't mean you deserved to be used. Well... by anyone besides himself of course. He was starting to think that he could use all of this blind trust to his advantage. Get you attached to him, force himself as a priority in your life that was worth protecting. But for that to happen you would have to stay alive. And that would mean someone would have to protect you from your infuriating self.

Astarion supposed that would just have to be his job. What it meant that the idea of doing such didn't fill him with resentment? He wasn't sure, and he sure as hells wasn't going to try and find out.

[sehodreams]

Forgiving others is easy, forgiving yourself not that much

Summary: Anton tried to take care of you in an unconventional way, putting you first into a helpless position. However, what he should've expected is for you to realize his intentions and to ruin his plans, but did you really ruin them at the end?

TW and tags: porn with plot (?), kind of dubcon (he tried to get her drunk but ends being the drunk one), all consentual at the end, pinning (from Anton), mentions of bullying at work place, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, no protection, tries of forced drinking, jealous Anton, kind of stalker!Anton, dark-ish, don't know how to decribe.

WC: 5.1k

Comment: to be honest I tried to write a porn without plot but it came out kind of weird, it changed so much while I wrote it I don't know what the hell happened in the process, but it's still most porn than story. I haven't posted anything lately because I write and delete them, but i finished this one so let's be happy I didn't toss it aside. Kind of dark so if you don't like this kind of content PLEASE JUST DON'T READ.

"Please, let me see your boobs, please" he was asking but he couldn't even wait for you to answer before his hand played with the fabric of your blouse trying to take it out of your tight skirt, you thought about just letting him have what he wanted, but did he deserve it? Not really.

He had tried to get you drunk at the dinner you had moments ago and had ended being the drunk one, so pathetic you couldn't help but dryly laugh out of second-hand embarrassment.

It was a team dinner so you couldn't reject the invitation, and the way he kept pouring and pouring shots of alcohol and passed them to you was suspicious, so you kept accepting them in front of everyone but tossing them to the plant next to you at the end of the table when he didn't stare at you with those wide expectant eyes. To everyone it looked like a cute hoobae trying to humor his superior, you were in charge of him because no one else wanted the heavy task of teaching the intern, and he reminded you of your first days there, inexperienced and scared, so you accepted him with grace and treated him with the care and a patience you wished you had received when you started.

At first you found it difficult to guide someone, you were used to always being alone, even with difficult tasks, but he made it bearable, always accepting advice from you, never questioning your decisions, and following your steps like a new born baby duck, and you found kind of endearing how he always made sure to stay and say thank you at the end of the day doesn’t matter how hard it was. Still, you couldn't deny how at the same time you always perceived a weird vibe from him, your eyes met his when you felt observed and he somehow knew when you needed something, if you were craving something sweet he miraculously bought extra dessert, if you murmured around how you wanted a coffee he would appear with your cup in seconds and if in the middle of a call you wanted to write something down he would gladly give you a page of his work at hand. He sometimes frightened you, but not in a bad way, so you tried to think he was just a young boy doing his best, however now that you confirmed he was human trash, you were disappointed in how you had wasted so much of your time into someone like him.

It was so sad, he was a sweet young boy just starting his first corporate job and he had so much potential, he always listened to you and offered his help with whatever you were doing, yes he was a bit awkward and shy, sometimes not daring to look directly at you in the eyes when you talked to him or stuttering when you surprised him with a question, but he still seemed honest and like a good kid, so you never expected him to try such a dirty move like that one, trying to get a girl drunk to do god knows what to her? You never punished him when he made a mistake at work, but right now you weren't at work, and he completely deserved it.

"Why should I?" You asked, slapping his hand away from you.

His cheeks were flushed and he was slurring his words, not even addressing you properly like his senior, forgetting the formalities and his usual self, he maintained eye contact as much as he could, trying to defy you for denying his wish. He did it until he realized you wouldn't break down under his gaze, even if he was bigger and stronger, you weren't scared of him at all, he could easily hurt you with his hands, he could push you to the floor right there in his apartment entrance and take you how he wanted, but you knew he wouldn't, how could the boy that always treated you like a goddess suddenly treat you like a mere mortal being? In the office he would follow you and take anything you had on your hands, like stacks of papers, boxes or even insignificant stuff like coffee cups, saying how he should carry them instead, if you said you were thirsty he would run to get a cold bottle of water from the vending machine, and when you tried to pay him back he would never accept it, "how could I? sunbaenim, I already owe you so much", he served you to the point you were sure that if you asked him, he would drop to his knees and pray your name every morning before work.

Perhaps that's why even when he tried to do such a sick thing, something so despicable that should definitely scare you away enough to not talk to him ever again, much deserving of a report to headquarters, after all the memories of you two together ran through your mind, you were there with him, in his house, letting him talk to you as if you were equals after helping him arrive safely to his house.

After some time his eyes went to the floor, he was moving from side to side, too intoxicated to keep his position, and when he almost tripped over his own feet, you grabbed his hands with yours, helping him stay still, pulling him slightly closer to you.

You can't deny that for a moment you were hesitant, even if he didn't, the possibility of him forcing himself on you was there, you thought a lot about it when you called the cab to his house after almost everyone had left when you went to the bathroom. You don't know if they tried to take him too and leave you alone in the restaurant, it wouldn't be the first time, but he had stayed to wait for you and take care of the bill with your boss credit card, only smiling at your direction when you asked him where everyone was, "don't know, but I'm here for you".

You could've left him in the cab and go home, all your instincts screamed to do that, that he was dangerous, he had obviously tried to put you in disadvantage to get something from you, the quantity of alcohol he had tried to force on you was almost unhealthy, and he did everything with his innocent face, fooling everyone except you.

However, the worst part was that he had been so obvious with his intentions you knew deep down that he had never done something like that before, you just had to look at his reddish cheeks and his dumb grin, his hand holding yours and stopping you from leaving him alone in the cab, to move that soft spot you had for him after taking him under your wing all those weeks.

You don't know why you wanted to go with him, even with that thrilled sensation of him maybe hurting you, you wanted to go, your mind too curious of what would happen for your body to listen any coherent thought about leaving.

"Sunbaenim, come with me, I'll take you home" he said not even looking at you, eyes closed and his hand holding tight yours. The driver looked behind for a second, if the roles were reversed, you were sure he'd have called the cops the minute you hoped in, but when he saw you, a soft girl with a serious expression looking out for her intoxicated coworker, he didn't care anymore.

"Please make sure he doesn't throw up inside" was the only thing he said and then drove in complete silence until you arrived to his building. When you paid the driver didn't look at you twice before he left you behind with the tall boy hugging your side and smelling your hair, you saw the yellow color of the cab far away and thought one last time to leave him and go home, but he was so happy next to you, giggling whenever your eyes met his, that you decided to see what were his intentions. After all, they said drunk people and kids never lied.

"Tell me the truth, what did you plan to do to me? And don't you dare lie Lee Chanyoung" you looked up to him, finding his eyes under the limp lights of his place. The shadow of the light above him made his face darker, his fingers played with yours and before he could talk, he stumbled over one of the numerous pairs of shoes on the floor, pushing you to the wall behind you with his whole body but not letting the impact affect you, quickly putting a hand behind your head and the other on your waist.

Almost embracing you, he stayed there, and closing his eyes, his nose breathed in the aroma of your hair again, "I-I wanted... I just wanted to take care of you, I wasn't gonna do anything, I just wanted you to depend on me once" he confessed in a whisper, but you couldn't believe him, just take care of you? How could he even try to put you in such helpless position? What if his or anyone else’s intentions were different? He couldn't even stop himself now, pressing your body with his and taking in all the sensations he could steal from you without taking off your clothes.

You tried to push him away but he was too heavy for you, so you only pressed your hands on his shoulders, almost clawing your fingers over the navy knitted cardigan he started to wear after you said it was your favorite color by mistake, "I can't believe you Anton, and why like this? Why couldn't you do it differently? Why would you want to do such a cheap move? You have no idea in what danger you could’ve put me through."

When you said his name some of his senses came back to him, he left a few inches of space between you two and a sad frown appeared on his pretty face, bringing the boy you used to know back, showing how sorry he was for overstepping into your precious space.

"I-I don't know, I just wanted to show you that you also can lean on me, I thought that it was impossible for you to let me get closer, you never let anyone learn more about you, you push everyone away and only talk about work stuff... I know I don't deserve you, but I wanted you, I want you, I want you all for me and I want to be the only one for you, I didn't know what else to do."

His tears started to drop one by one while he talked, his hand searching for you again but not daring to touch you afraid of disgusting you more after showing how wretched he really was.

You made him look into your eyes before he talked again, "It's the first time you do this?" You asked, holding his cheeks and cleaning the tears that slid down.

"Of course it is" he grasped his hands over yours, asking for compassion from you, his eyes almost looked honest, and after you nodded, accepting his words, he went and pressed his forehead in the space of your neck, getting dizzy with the smell of your perfume and all the alcohol that stayed in both of you after your dinner not long ago, "I've never wanted someone this much before... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tried it, but you're just so high up there, you looked unreachable" his hands moved to your hips, you hugged his neck and let him get wasted with your presence, he used more strength into his grasp and you felt his fingers painfully try to penetrate your clothes and touch your skin, but instead of telling him to stop you opened your legs to receive him, "...and I felt unworthy of you, I know I am, but please, let me show you how useful I could be, how much I can serve you"

You felt his boner under his fitted grey pants, it tried to sink into you under all his layers, but it couldn't even reach you thanks to your skirt limiting his movements.

He didn't wait long thought, this Anton had no patience at all, and he hastily lifted your skirt almost all the way up, his nails scratching your tights and running them instead of carefully taking the nylon fabric off like you usually did.

"I'm sorry" he apologized still on your neck, rutting his member into your now visible black underwear. He caught a glimpse of them, they weren’t your prettiest pair, rather simple and bland, but he still was awed by them and how they covered what he had imagined so many nights before, and soon he was rutting against them again, ‘’I’m so sorry’’, he was ashamed of how much he ached for you.

"It's okay Anton, you don't have to apologize anymore" your fingers hooked on his long hair, strings of it settling under your grip, and trying to calm down the rush he was in, you murmured that sentence softly next to his ear. You could hear his heart beating inside his chest and he gulped loudly after you called his name with so much tenderness.

"I'm sorry" he repeated, feeling so undeserving of the benevolence you were gifting him, you always did so much for him, you weren't afraid of giving him all your knowledge at work, you defended him whenever he made a mistake and others tried to make him feel beneath them, judging his inexperience as a lack of intelligence, you were the most merciful person he had ever met, forgiving even the repugnant intentions he had tonight.

He pressed his lips on your throat, trying to claim possession over you, he was never going to let anyone else take you from him, he had been feeling desperate those days after one of your coworkers had gotten closer to you, he couldn't help but follow you with his eyes whenever you walked around, and recently, if he wasn't next to you, that guy would be on your side, setting off an alarm inside his head.

It was unusual to see anyone other than him treat you with the respect you deserved, Anton didn't understand why almost everyone hated you, but they did. You always did your best and outperformed your tasks, if the boss said he wanted you to finish a report for next week you'd have it ready in three days, if others asked you for a favor you'd immediately accept and leave your own work aside to help them, if an emergency appeared you'd instantly share solutions, you were the best employee and coworker anyone could wish, and they still treated you like a plague, sending you to meaningless errands and giving you the problematic clients.

His leather belt pushed up your blouse, and the buckle hooked with the silky fabric, scraping it and slightly hurting your skin in the process. "Wait- Anton" you tried to stop him from tearing up your favorite blouse but his mind was too hazy to hear you, humping his erection on your panties with his brutal force, you couldn't do anything to stop him.

When you were at work he didn't dare to ask for a single thing from you, not even a glass of water, when you offered to buy his coffee he shyly rejected you, trying to buy you one instead, but now with the little help of the alcohol he showed his true colors, that greedy side that wasn't scared of demanding what he wanted from you and taking it before you could give him permission.

He kept apologizing between thrusts, you felt your panties get wet with your arousal and his tip clumsily striking your clit, although it felt good, you weren't sure how much of it your poor clothes could take, so you decided to do what you had to do for him to cease.

"Anton, can you touch me here?" You asked, moving his hands to your chest and letting him knead your skin under your cups. He eagerly nodded, finally directing his attention to another thing that wasn't the pleasure your cunt gave him.

He didn't waste any time taking your blouse off, he did it with such an urge he didn't care your cuffs were still buttoned and that your hair ended like a mess after he pulled it over your head, his hands searched for the back of your bra and tossed it aside the minute he deciphered how to unhook it.

He admired you for a good minute, your skin reflected the light the two of you were under and when you tried to fix your hair he saw your chest moving in unison with your hands, the creamy flesh called for him to take a bite and he immediately indulged himself on it, so soft under his mouth his eyes almost rolled back and his cock sent an agonizing throb to the pitch of his abdomen, needing to sink into you as soon as he could, he moaned of satisfaction.

You liked the sensation of his mouth and his hands over your buds, but it was obvious not as much as him, he seemed to be desperate to get more of you, his teeth would find your nipples and slightly bite them to then follow with his tongue caressing the same spots, like a soothe after the affliction, pressing the flat of his tongue again and again.

He stayed like that for a long time, admiring your chest with devotion in an uncomfortable position, since you took off your high heels he was even taller now, and his whole upper body was bending to meet your chest. You tried to help him a little and stay on your tip toes but the stir he caused on your insides didn't let you think much about it, only passing your fingers over his hair and closing your eyes to not get lost in the sight of the big, gorgeous boy obsessed with you.

He ran one of his hands from your chest to your mound, and before you could tell him to not go so far, limits unclear between you two in that moment, and your mind repeating how it wasn't okay, he sneaked it inside your underwear and immediately found your clit with his fingers, pressing his wrist with enough delicacy and strength to push your ass to the wall and circle the little nerve at the same time. Still, your mind couldn't stop the thoughts, he was too drunk and you were in charge of him, you as the senior between had to put a stop before the two of you made a mistake, because that's what you were making, an enormous mistake that you wouldn't know how to fix.

You could fix almost everything, you never stopped if an obstacle presented, you handled the worst clients with grace and easily solved emergencies, but you had realized that people weren't as easy as you thought, giving them what they wanted wasn't necessarily always the answer, sometimes you had to give them what they needed it even if they didn't like the result, and right there what Anton needed was a mature adult telling him to stop and to reflect on his actions that day, because what he did was completely wrong, and you shouldn't condone his actions letting him take what he wanted from you without consequences.

This was real life, and the real world wasn’t as forgiving as you.

But fuck it felt good, and you were just human too, to have someone show so much adoration towards you made you weak, because you were used to giving everything of you, and it was the first time you met someone willing to do the same with you.

His mouth left your chest and went up to your neck, leaving marks that would show the next day and you'd have to hide before work with makeup, you were trying to remember if you had your pouch in your bag when his finger slipped inside you, making you whimper of surprise while he chuckled on your neck. He started with just his middle finger, testing how much he could push you. Your slick made everything so easy for him he thought about just putting it in, you were so ready you'd take him without problem and he couldn't wait for you to drip all over his cock, which was throbbing inside his boxers with each thought.

However, there was something he needed even more before he did that, he went to his knees and slid down your panties and the ruined pantyhose, admiring the naked skin of your thighs that slowly showed up in front of him, "please spread your legs" he asked, grabbing your creamy thighs and loving the way your flesh melted under his grip. Your plumpness somehow comforted him, and he gave a small pampering peck to each thigh before he pressed his lips over your tummy, making you open to him and his care, allowing yourself to enjoy his treatment for just a second, like you told yourself in your head, it would be just a second. No one had been so sweet, even if sometimes rough, with you, and you felt yourself falling deeper into his void, too swayed to deny him anything when he spoiled you like that.

He started with slow licks, making out with your clit and pushing your legs open with his hands. Your hips bucked into his face, and with eyes close with force, your palms tried to hold you against the wall, the torture of his tongue lapping your wetness making you tremble in your place.

More than groans, you heard whimpers and moans coming from his mouth, sobering thanks to your juices but not in his right mind still, he had more control over himself, but that only meant he was more conscious of his leaking dick needing you, and how painfully untouched he had been all the time he was next to you, craving for your attention on him and only him.

You pulled his hair with force when his tongue started to poke your entrance and his nose buried in your lips, you couldn't bear with the overwhelming feeling and pushed him away, a bit afraid of hurting him but not able to consider before doing it. He looked up to you, scared of being too much for you, but he couldn't contain himself, he wanted all of you. "That's enough Anton", he shook his head in disagreement, it wasn't even close to satisfy his thirst, and with your hands hurting his scalp he dived in again, with more eagerness and decision, he drank you until you finished pouring everything out, your moans like music to his ears, he wanted to receive anything you had to give him.

When your legs stopped trembling beside his head, he finally stood up again, staring down at your crumbled body, he helped you stay on your feet with a smile. When you looked up to him you saw his shinny face, all the way from the tip of his nose to his chin, and he wasn't ashamed of disgusted with your fluids all over his face, he even seemed elated to have your mess there, making you feel guilty of being so weak against pleasure.

You couldn't believe what just happened, you let him touch you, and you felt disturbed with your lack of willpower to put a stop to what was happening in the youngest's apartment.

"I should go" you thought loudly. He panicked and grabbed your face with both hands just like you had done before when he was spiraling in his drunken state.

"Why? What's wrong?" He asked, caressing your red cheeks and watching your teary eyes, his heart wrenching inside his chest with the idea of having hurt you, he hadn't meant to, he knew he was being greedy, he had tried to do something terrible to you before he came back to his senses, but he was just terrified of losing you, and now it seemed the same thing was about to happen, so close to him and your mind still trying to run away.

"I shouldn't do this Anton, you don't even have a steady position in the company, I'm older, I'm your superior, and what you did was so wrong, but I should be the mature person here and put a stop to it, yet I'm here just accepting you, it's so fucking sick what we're doing" your tears were streaming down and he felt bad for having put you in such a difficult position.

"I'm sorry, I'll always be sorry for what I tried to do today, I don't know what went through my mind, but please don't torment yourself, you didn't do anything wrong, it's all on me, I'm the one who's sick, just be angry with me, I can take it, but what I can't take is you in pain, please forgive me" he started shedding tears too, fat tears escaping his eyes with a concerned expression.

His shoulders were trembling with his sobs and you felt a revolting feeling in your stomach, a nauseous sensation mixed with sorrow and guilt.

"Let's forget this happened Anton, this never happened, okay?" You tried to convince him but he denied, he didn't want to pretend anything, he couldn't lose you like that, having you so close, his dream was no longer to have a good job and a normal life, nothing of that mattered if you weren't by his side, his goal had changed from serving society to serving you, and he couldn't just yield like that. "While I'm here, I'm no longer your superior, I'm no longer your coworker, we're just two people together, two people that are meeting for the first time, okay?"

His world suddenly was illuminated by your grace again, exhilarating in joy, he nodded until his cries stopped, kissing both your hands with adoration, swearing inside his mind to never hurt you like that ever again, and that the only tears he could ever let come from your eyes would be of pleasure and happiness. "Thank you, thank you" he repeated with every kiss on your knuckles and then over the back of both your hands. He had taken a liking to kissing every spot of your body, and he was hoping to soon have you over his bedsheets to adore you even more.

But for now, he picked up where he left, he went to your lips and kissed you with his whole sincerity, crushing your mouth with his. His kiss was breathtaking, making you dizzy but finally relieved of finding an answer to the problem there, even if it had to do with you forgiving him and forgetting what the two of you were outside that apartment, you could take it, because it wasn't what any of you wanted, but what both of you needed.

"Can I put it in?" He asked and you nodded. He, in his euphoria, pulled down his pants and his underwear to let his length free. He was so excited he lifted you with his arms without showing any struggle and then pressed his tip over your entrance, letting your body fall and take him with a single motion.

You tried to get him back in his senses scratching his shoulder blade "Anton-" every thrust of his hips would push the next word back into your throat, and talking between moans it took you a while to say, "I'm too heavy... Put me down", you cried when his pelvis instead of stopping moved harder against you, the clasp of skins echoing around you two and making you the drunk one now.

He denied, "it's okay, I can do it" he continued, you felt your tears dropping and falling over his skin, the intensity of your insides being demolished so easily by the young one left you under his mercy, taking it and hoping you wouldn't get addicted to a pleasure like that one so fast.

He stopped for a second, lifting you even more with his arms, making you bounce and accommodating you against the smooth surface of his wall, strong arms holding both your trembling legs and hard breathing next to your ear, you couldn't hear exactly what he whispered when his cock stayed inside and throbbed, your cries were louder than you expected when he started his pace again and you could only understand something along the lines so gorgeous, but you didn't know if you heard him right or not so you didn't answer, concentrating all your thoughts into holding yourself around his neck to not fall. His shaft punched exactly a spot that made your eyes flutter and you sobbed when he ruthlessly kept striking it, he only needed to hear your first moan to know what he had just found, "feels good?" He asked and kissed your neck. You cried an affirmation in response, a yes so broken he felt proud of himself for making you feel that good, not daring to stop his movements, with the only purpose of comforting you like he had been wishing for so long when the people in the office shoot daggers at you regardless of what you did. If you were good no one would praise you, if you praised others they would say you weren't honest, and he was sure that, if you ever did a mistake, everyone would condemn you, and every time that happened he just wanted to grab your hand and tell you I'm right here, doing whatever he could to help you think about something else while giving you all the praises he wished he could say out loud. "You deserve it, you deserve it all" his lips found yours and feeling your insides tightening around him he messily fucked you with everything he had, making you hop over his length while the back of your thighs slapped his skin. When you were cumming you bit his shoulder and he hissed of pain but continued with his motion and came with much pleasure inside you a couple of thrusts later, gladly letting you hurt him if you needed to, because for him you could do whatever you wanted with his body, and he would always forgive you, just like you forgave him moments ago, teaching him how even an inferior being like him could earn your mercy, so why would such a kind existence not deserve it back? He would praise you and adore you as much as you required, and he'd teach you how to accept him without doubt ever again.

[himluv]

Pulled Punches

Here's more Lucanis and Rook! And if you like this, read the rest over on AO3!

Lucanis left the dining table with a shove. He felt Neve’s and Rook’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look at either woman. He was unspeakably glad that Neve was back, but after all they'd been through, neither she nor Rook deserved to be on the receiving end of his foul mood. 

Once safely in the pantry, Lucanis pressed his palms to his eyes and growled.  Ghilan’nain had been right there! He had her! Were Davrin and Emmrich right? Was Spite the reason he’d missed the killing blow?

No, Spite said. Not my fault. Yours!

He should have had her. He was better than this! He was the best mage killer in Thedas, and Rook had hired him to kill mages. Very powerful, godlike mages, but still. 

Lucanis had never failed a contract.

Broken, Spite whispered. 

His life should be forfeit by his own Houses’s rules. He’d embarrassed House Dellamorte, worse than getting captured, worse than returning from death as an abomination. He had failed his contract.

After everything he’d survived, after everything that had been stolen from him in that prison, he’d thought that all he had left was work. But now it seemed even that had been taken from him.

What’s left?

“I don’t know!”

The door opened behind him. “Lucanis? Are you in here brooding?” Rook’s tone was light, teasing. 

Lucanis was in no mood for it. “I’m fine.”

“That’s not a ‘no’,” she said as she approached him. 

He turned to face her, but kept his eyes downcast. She wasn’t a Crow. She wouldn’t understand what this failure meant. She didn’t now how… twisted up he felt inside. 

Wrong, Spite whispered. 

Lucanis sighed. “I had her,” he said. “She should never have gotten away from me.” He shook his head, his frustration bubbling over. “This was our contract, Rook. I don’t fail my contracts.”

She shook her head, eyes pleading with him. “Forget about Ghilan’nain.”

“That’s why I’m here!”

“I know, but…” she gave him a soft smile. “I’m just happy you didn’t get killed out there.”

That’s what she was thinking about? 

He frowned. “You shouldn’t go easy on me. In my line of work, mistakes get people killed.” Didn’t she understand? If he couldn’t do this, what good was he? How could he keep her safe?

“To be fair,” she said, her voice light. “So do successes.”

He still wasn’t ready to let this go. He looked away from her. “I thought I still had this. Whatever else I am, I’m a professional.” A part of him still believed that, but a new, fragile part ached at the thought that maybe it wasn’t true anymore. “After the Ossuary, I thought at least I could still take out a target.” He shook his head and rolled his shoulders, suddenly anxious to move. “I need to work.”

“Ghilan’nain was a giant face in the clouds, Lucanis,” she said, sounding almost as frustrated as he felt. “I asked you to stab a cloud.”

Did she think that mattered? That it changed anything? He should be able to kill anything she asked! 

Finally, his anger broke through. “And I missed the damn cloud!”

It was the closest he’d come to shouting at her outside of battle. He wasn’t proud of it, but Lucanis was angry. Angry and, if he was honest, afraid. He was an assassin, born and raised. A weapon honed to kill any target he might be assigned. If he couldn’t do that… then who was he? He’d left the dining hall to think and cool his temper – he’d wanted to be alone. 

Instead, Rook had followed him into the dark. And she didn’t back down at his outburst. She didn’t flinch.

Her voice was softer when she spoke again. “My point is: that was impossible, and you still almost did it.” She ducked her head a little to catch his gaze. “That’s not small.”

Lucanis sighed. He knew she had a point, that she made sense. But, he was still upset and disappointed with himself. He needed to be better than this. Rook needed him to be better.

“I was distracted,” he said. “That cannot happen again. I need to get my head on straight.”

She didn’t look pleased at that, but she didn’t argue. “You made Ghilan’nain bleed,” she said. She took a step closer to him and her voice dropped low with threat. “And next time?” She shook her head. “You won’t miss.”

Her gaze was so sure, so intense, that Lucanis had to look away, his fists clenched. 

What if she’s wrong?

Lucanis sighed. He would just have to make sure he proved her right.  

“Have you been to talk to the others?” He asked. “Davrin, especially. I think everyone might have... Things to deal with now.”

She gave him a little smile. “Already done.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said. And he wasn’t. Rook had shown time and again that she took care of her team. But who took care of her?

“How are you holding up?” He asked. 

She crossed her arms and looked down at her feet. It took her a long moment to speak, and Lucanis wondered if she debated how honest she should be. How vulnerable. 

“Torn,” she said. “That was… rough. By any standard. And losing Weisshaupt?” She shook her head. 

“I’m sensing a ‘but’?”

Rook shot him a grim smile. “But we killed Ghilan’nain’s Archdemon.” Again, her voice took on that dark, threatening tone.

“Sounds like it’s personal,” he said. 

“It is,” she said. “They were my gods, Lucanis. My people prayed to them. I prayed to them!” She shook her head.

Lucanis wasn’t a religious man. He only invoked the Maker when he cursed, so he wasn’t sure what to say to Rook. He settled on an apology. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. He hoped his sincerity came through. He may not understand this particular pain, but he hated that Rook felt it. 

“Me, too,” she said. 

Lucanis shifted his weight, suddenly feeling awkward and too aware of how close she was. “I should check in with the Crows,” he said. “Whatever the word is, I'll let you know. There's nothing like work to focus the mind.”

She scowled at him, but her usual playful demeanor had returned. “Work and maybe getting some sleep?”

He scoffed at that, even though he knew it was good advice. “I’ll consider it.”

Rook watched him for a moment, her eyes darting across his face. This time, he didn’t look away, didn’t fidget under her scrutiny. He simply stood and let her see him. And when she was done, their eyes met for one leaden moment. 

“Goodnight, Lucanis,” she said.

“Goodnight, Rook.”

She stood there a heartbeat longer, as if she didn’t actually want to leave. But, finally, she turned and walked out of the pantry. Lucanis watched her until the door closed behind her. 

And somehow, that tiny room felt empty once she was gone.  

[tonkatsubowl]

Hello sorry if sorry if this is sudden but I was wondering if you could write about the Hsr men meeting their newborn child. (If you're not comfortable with this that's completely understandable and I wish you a good morning afternoon or goodnight ☺️)

OOOHH yes i am down for this! i was actually thinking about doing something similar to this! (ノ*°▽°*)

dan heng was nervous. he had originally planned on staying by your side, even took this entire week off to be there for you on the day where you would give birth to his beautiful child. unfortunately, dan heng couldn't make it due to his mission. he had originally predicted that he wouldn't even spend less than two days on another planet, but here we was, getting into a spiral of unfortunate events, disallowing him to see you by any means.

luckily, he was able to make it after your child's birth. he feared that you hated him. he feared that him not being present when you needed it the most would cause him to be a terrible father, but really, the man was overthinking like crazy.

the sounds of your child crying echoed into his ears as he sped down the halls of the hospital, recently and freshly returning from another worldly expedition. stopping in front of the door to your assigned room, he breathed, his heart racing. but he couldn't just use this time to calm down and act all aloof... he had to see you.

entering the room, he saw you and his first born child. you were exhausted, your hair was a bit of a mess, you were covered in sweat, but you were alive and well...as his child, too. nurses greeted dan heng as he slowly approached you, his eyes softening and bright as they were as he saw his beautiful lover holding the child, swaddled in soft fabric, held near the chest of the love of his life.

"...i-i.." dan heng stuttered, falling silent immediately as he watched the swaddled child be transferred over to his grasp. he carefully held them, noticing the tiny horns on his child due to his draconian blood. he held them close to his chest, looking at you with a sheepish smile. his eyes...they were bright and soft.

"welcome home," he whispered to your child, bringing the newborn close to his chest.

"i'm so sorry i was late."

blade was lying if he said he wasn't nervous, or if he didn't really seem worried about you and his newborn child.

after what had occurred in his past, he became overly protective when you officially got pregnant, and never dared to let anyone near you. from dusk to dawn, elios had practically allowed blade to skip out on a mission, forcing silver wolf (who sighed in annoyance a few times, saying she wanted to beat her games) to take his blade on these expeditions while kafka accompanied her.

of course, silver wolf and kafka wanted to be there too when you gave birth to your first born child, even preparing some gifts for you while they were on the way back from another world.

in the hospital, blade never left your side the moment you began the process of childbirth. he hated seeing you in pain, but he held your hand when you kept pushing.

eventually enough, your child was born, and he didn't want to hold them at first.

"why? what's the matter?" you asked blade as a rare, soft look in his crimson gaze befell upon the swaddled child, "why do you not want to hold them?"

"..." blade was silent for a moment.

did he deserve to hold his child? he looked at his hands, his expression almost...emotionless. but you knew him. you knew him well. and you knew what was bothering him. and you knew what he was thinking about, too.

he had already tainted his hands with the sins he bore upon his shoulders, carrying the amount of lives he's taken away out of pleasure or for the sake of his mission.

and his child... your child... was the symbolism of pure innocence. holding his child with the dirtiness of his hands seemed so...wrong.

it felt almost undeserving that he wanted to hold his child. he feared that they would grow up to be like him.

"you're letting something bother you again, blade," you murmur, extending your free arm out as you held the child in your other arm. your hands brush against his own, intertwining with his fingers. "but please don't allow your past mistakes⸻your sins⸻to influence how you wish to raise our child or how you should be there for them."

blade was still silent, but you could hear him exhale sharply. you were right.

"...y/n." he nodded, acknowledging your statement.

he showed you a side that nobody would ever see. he didn't show it, but his eyes did⸻and he was absolutely readable. he extended both of his hands, taking the child into his arms, carefully cradling them.

you smiled, watching as your lover began to bond with his newborn child, allowing yourself to relax against the fluffiness of your pillow.

it was no surprise that being a military general and all, the lack of his physical presence was...well. expected.

and jing yuan felt awful for it. he felt even worse that you understood why he couldn't be there by the time you were in-processing of childbirth. he held your hands, kissed them, and promised to be there by your side no matter what... but here you are, alone in a room with several doctors and nurses while he was working away on militia paperwork.

were you upset? you had every right to be, jing yuan thought. but luckily enough, he was there after the events of your painful hours...

the moment he had finished the last bit of work, he bolted away, using every trinket and trick up his sleeve to get to your side faster. as he was on his way to you, he figured that you didn't want to see him. that you didn't want him to see yours and his child. that you hated him. that you—

"welcome home, jing yuan."

his heart strung, shrinking at the sound of your soft and soothing voice. how the open window near you welcomed the gentle breeze that fluttered through your messy locks, beads of sweat covering your forehead as you held your newborn child close to your chest.

he froze, admiring the sight of the love of his life and his newborn child. he approached you, his eyes softening, bright and glistening with relief... yet...

"... i'm so sorry." jing yuan murmured as he stood by your side. despite his apology, he still had a smile. a sheepish one, at that.

"for what?" you shake your head, looking at him with a confused expression as you hand your child over to the general, allowing him to hold them. from the sound of your voice, you were still very tired, wanting to rest as soon as possible.

"don't worry about being apologetic over nothing, jing yuan."

the general's face softened. he didn't deserve you. he felt so awful, but... what mattered was that he was here now. here with you and his firstborn child.

from this day forth, he vowed himself to always protect you and his child.

welt yang already had a child, but it wasn't entirely his. he has an adoptive son whom he still thinks about on a daily basis. the moment the two of you found out you were pregnant, he was quick to become overly protective of you. he wanted to be a better father. a better figure for your child... and someone who would be there for his family.

he was a busy man, yes, but it didn't stop him from actually being there to make sure you were alright. he spoiled you throughout your entire pregnancy, and it was definitely a lie if this man told you he wasn't worried at all for you.

the man has already been through a lot. nobody can't exactly blame him for being protective of you, especially when it came to your vulnerability of pregnancy.

the moment you were admitted to that hospital room, welt immediately disappeared from his office and went straight to you, already preparing some sort of aftercare procedure for you after you had given birth. from preparations of warm tea, your favorite foods and the like... he made sure you would be treated like royalty, even if you didn't want it at first.

the moment the child was in your arms, there was a rare, soft look on welt's expression as he watched you hold his child close to your chest. so small, so innocent—it wretched his heart when he reached out, the child's tiny fingers wrapping around his index digit.

he melted internally, unsure of what to say at this moment... but it was truly a given that he was incredibly happy at this very moment with you and his child.

"welt," you murmured, "you're..."

you reached up, brushing your finger against the corner of his eyes. you caught them glimmering with tears of joy. there was a soft smile on your face as well welt's as he held your child close to his chest.

"...i'm just so happy, y/n."

gepard was luckily relieved from his duties due to the kindness of bronya.

during your pregnancy, gepard was nothing but an absolute worrywart. every time you coughed or sneezed, he ran to your side all anxious, asking if you were okay. he would assist you up and down the stairs despite not needing his assistance, especially when it came to sitting down or even just lifting a few pounds that you can handle.

"y/n, let me." you were pouring some tea for yourself, but gepard would immediately take over your spot, not wanting to burn yourself from a few splatters of hot water.

"y/n, please be careful...!" he helped you up from sitting up from a chair that allowed you to lay back a bit, his hands gentle.

"y/n! please, let me handle it." you were literally reaching up to grab a book off a shelf to read. he was so protective of you...

of course, you didn't want to scold him. this side of him was absolutely adorable. you weren't exactly independent anymore...

but here came the in-process of your childbirth... he was there for you at every second of it all. his heart wretched in pain when he heard you cry as you pushed it through, bearing the pain of being both a mother and a woman as you birthed an innocent life.

after the success of childbirth, gepard had such a soft and innocent look on his face, akin to a puppy-like gaze as he saw you hand the swaddled newborn over to him. allowing him to hold them. he breathed, carefully holding his child in his arms as he admired both his lover and the offspring.

"...i-..." gepard began, holding them close, "god. they're so beautiful." he whispered, gently wiggling his index finger over his child's face, booping their nose here and there.

"i'm so incredibly... overfilled with joy."

surprisingly enough, sampo wasn't much of a stupid klutz around you. the moment he had found out you were pregnant, sampo did everything he could to be by your side.

every cramp, every kick, every pain you felt during your pregnancy... he would rush to your side with your comfort food, your favorite tea and other sorts of things that made you happy and feel content. he would often come home with a giant plush of your favorite animal and some dessert, knowing you'd be craving for the monstrosity known as sugar.

when you were giving birth, however, sampo was there too. he had to prepare himself mentally, knowing you would be in excruciating pain as you gave birth to his child. he had to endure it, hoping you would be well after the birth of your child.

successfully enough, it was a success, and sampo would leave temporarily to retrieve some gifts for you and your child. in came sampo with balloons, gifts and stuffed animals that may or may not be for you (and your child).

"i really hope you didn't steal those," you say to sampo as he came into the room with the gifts, holding your newborn close to your chest.

sampo didn't respond to you at first, as his eyes laid upon his newborn. he placed the gifts down on the ground, quickly moving towards your side.

he was silent, but there was a smile that never left his face as he slowly picked up his own child, cradling him so close to him.

"their nose... it's so cute. just like yours." sampo teased, chuckling to himself as he reached forward with his own head, brushing his nose against his newborn's forehead.

"at least their nose isn't like yours." you tease back, your eyes dazed and tired from the pain you felt today.

the beads of sweat on your forehead were already dried off from the gentle breeze that was welcomed from the window next to you. the soft birds that sung to each other, and the loving husband who cooed at his newborn that remained by your side was the glorious song of them all.

luocha had always been calm, collective, gentle and soft, especially when it came towards you. never once had he felt nervous or worried, not even when you both discovered that you were pregnant...

the moment he had found out, he expected for you to feel pain and discomfort for several months. although it was difficult for anyone to really read luocha's emotions, you could read him easily. every time you felt pain, cried or ached from the movement inside of your stomach, he rushed by your side.

"are you alright? do you need to go to the hospital? do you need water?"

really, this side of him was absolutely adorable. you had to reassure luocha countless times that you were fine and that it was a small kick, nothing more... nothing less.

then came the day of your child's birthday.

luocha kept a calm and collected composure, but the moment he heard you cry in pain as you pushed, he had to endure listening to you. but you were strong... you were capable of this. and he admired you for it — and thus, he had to put his trust in you. he believed that you and your child would be safe.

after childbirth, he never left your side. he held the swaddled newborn close to his chest as you remained deep asleep on the infirmary bed. he had already brought you a large amount of food for you to enjoy afterwards, as well as some of your favorite coffee/tea for you to have when you wake up.

even as you sleep, he would take care of your newborn.

you deserved the rest after the pain you've been through the last several months, and now he would make sure that he would be the best, loving father known to man kid.

[toodelusionalforreality]

Azriel x OC | Chapter 6

History

Both his brothers are mated. Both his brothers are happily in love. But after five centuries of rejection, Azriel doesn’t hope for such luxury in his life. When he meets the bar owner who is too mysterious even for the spymaster to decipher, his intrigue turns into more. Lines between mystery and secret blur. The closer he gets to her, the more his instincts warn him to stay away.

Previous Chapter: Relic

Word count: ~4.0k Warning: None [not enough editing/formatting]

A/N: This is an experimental piece of work. I'm testing a writing style, so feedback is welcome. This is a fuck-it version as my brain doesn't seem to be working right now.

Since Nyx was born, House of Wind lay empty most days and nights. Azriel preferred his old room still, for the familiar privacy, for only the skies, the winds, and the moon to keep him company. But at times like these, when the laughter of his family filled the house and his brothers pretended to be better than an infant, he didn’t mind the city after all. 

Despite the constant ruckus, he welcomed this distraction, especially after what he had done two nights prior. Ayla, for some reason, had trusted him and he ruined the first chance he had with her. She had offered him her kindness and in return, he proved her he was deserving of everything vile and cruel in the world. Every blessed moment they shared, Azriel tainted it by forcing himself onto her.

He had hoped Ayla would ask him to stay, or at the very worst, threaten him again. Instead, she stared at him. She stared at him like her entire being wasn’t consumed with desire as his, like it was one of those meaningless kisses she granted other men she took to her bed. How the light in her eyes flickered out, he couldn’t erase it from his mind. Nor the taste of her lips, or how his own tingled hours after he returned home. 

Guilty as he was, Azriel was more ashamed for not regretting the kiss he stole from her. 

‘I know how to hold my son,’ hissed Rhys. He walked back and forth, cradling his child in his arms, round the sofa for the fifth time in the past fifteen minutes. 

Nyx loved to torment his father whose perpetual cockiness crumbled under the pressures of parenthood, and Azriel loved him for it. He leaned against the window frame and kept out of the way, for offering advice only made Rhys lose his mind. 

But Cass was oblivious to this sentiment. He reached to take Nyx into his embrace. When his calloused fingers scraped against the tender wings, Azriel winced. Add it to their natural sensitivity and they had a crying babe in their arms. Literally. The tiny wings posed a greater hindrance with their involuntary flexing than the three brothers imagined them to be. Though they understood the plight as Illyrians, they were equally pathetic when it came to a suitable remedy.

Cass backed a step, his hands in the air. It wasn’t his first ordeal facing the wrath of the new parents, yet his biggest challenge was the fervour of their outbursts. Some days, Feyre threw everyone out of the room, and on the others—well, once Nyx’s talon clawed into the wood of the cradle, and Rhys bawled while all his child did was stir in his sleep.

A tendril of shadow tickled the babe’s nose before rising to whirl above his head. Fragile silence settled in the room as Nyx watched, his blue eyes wide and filled with wonder.

‘You can’t keep doing that,’ said Cass through his teeth.

Azriel grinned. ‘It’s not my fault he likes me better.’

‘If I did parlour tricks, he’d like me too.’

His tricks include getting piss drunk and fucking Nesta, said Rhys in his mind and Azriel snickered.

Cass looked between them. ‘What did he say?’ He asked Azriel before grunting at Rhys, ‘Tell it to my face, you coward.’

‘You’re making him antsy,’ warned Azriel quietly.

It was too late. Nyx’s lips trembled on cue as though he knew to milk their predicament to his advantage. Rhys’s spawn indeed. With a nervous smile, Cass took a step towards him wagging his finger in the air. But the wails grew louder. 

Shadows rushed back seeking the quiet around Azriel.

When the doors flung open, Cass took three steps back. But Feyre’s eyes were only on her child—one touch from her and Nyx babbled like a portrait of innocence tugging at her shirt. Nesta walked in with a smirk on her lips, knowing well the cause of distress, and with Mor in her tow.

Slumping into the chair next to the fireplace, Rhys draped an arm over his eyes. ‘I’m learning to respect my mother more. No wonder she bit our heads off as much as she did.’

‘I swear,’ grumbled Cass as he sat across him, ‘if you’re making him do it—’

Rhys peeked over his arm, anger darkening his eyes. ‘Why would I make my son cry?’

As the two bickered, Nyx laughed at his accomplishment, convincing Azriel he might have inherited more than his father’s theatrics.

Feyre chuckled and rocked her babe in her arms. ‘You lasted an hour. You’re making progress.’

Rhys shot a glare at Cass. ‘I would’ve lasted longer if not for a moron.’

‘I’m sure she was talking to Nyx,’ said Azriel.

Sensing the attention slipping from his pudgy fingers, Nyx spewed more gibberish. Mor let out a gasp and leaned over him, matching him with her own nonsense. But, he reached for Nesta instead.

Mor placed her hands on her hips and turned to her cousin. Her blond hair whipped dangerously in the air. ‘How does he not find me adorable?’

Rhys grinned. ‘Clearly, my son has standards.’

Nyx snuggled against Nesta’s chest and grasped at the wisps of shadows that deigned safe to approach him again. Mor smirked, ‘Well, clearly. He prefers Az over you.’

A dark power enveloped the corners of the room swallowing the light and warmth from the hearth.

‘Not funny now, are we?’ 

When Mor made a grab for Nyx’s hand in the air, he squirmed away. Amusement replaced the jealousy in Rhys’s eyes. ‘If only you could hear what he thinks of you.’

‘He thinks of me already! He likes me.’

While the rest of his family flocked wherever the babe was, Azriel always found a corner for himself. And Feyre seemed to notice. ‘He really likes his Uncle Az.’

‘More like Uncle Ass,’ grumbled Cass, still sore from the rejection, earning a glare from both parents.

‘You still won’t hold him?’ Feyre asked with a softness that bordered on pity.

In the beginning, it was easy to make excuses blaming it on the care needed from a mother, or on his tender body. With months passed and everyone grown comfortable with handling a babe, it became clearer that Azriel stayed away the most. And somehow, Nyx was fascinated by him the more he distanced himself. It couldn’t be his shadows for Rhys was the night sky incarnate, or perhaps Nyx sensed a familiar darkness in them.

‘I did when Rhys—I did,’ he sighed offering a smile, however strained it was. 

Mischief lurked in Feyre’s eyes as she walked over, ‘You better begin your training now,’ and looped a hand through his arm, ‘You might not have time to prepare.’

Azriel choked. Him with a babe? He had hardly spent minutes with Ayla. Besides, he forbade himself from indulging in such fantasies. He did once and suffered the consequences for centuries. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. With Ayla, it would be different. It had to be different.

The sisters’ laughter worsened the heat rising up his neck. His eyes shifted, darting to look anywhere but their faces, and he caught the glance shared between Mor and Rhys.

Cass swivelled in the chair, ‘What about us? Nes and I are still ahead of him.’

Nesta went rigid. Feyre looked to her mate for help who merely grinned instead. Fortunately for her, Nyx yawned and she rushed to him. ‘I should take him to bed.’ 

Mor stomped over to the couch, ‘You owe me a night, Feyre.’ She pulled Cass to his feet and held onto his hand. ‘You all do. I’m leaving at dawn again and who knows when I’ll be back.’

Right, Vallahan teased her for months with the prospects of a successful alliance, only to test her patience.

‘I’ll stay with him,’ Nesta said quietly, tearing her eyes away from her mate. Cass only shook his head with a dramatic sigh but he didn’t argue or pull away from Mor.

Feyre and Rhys were silent for a while staring at each other, Azriel assumed, arguing over who got the honour to care for their son. Finally, she said, ‘Elain said something about pruning before sunrise. She won’t mind watching him.’ 

It was then Azriel realised the third sister hadn’t joined them since dinner.

.

.

.

Mor slowed as she took in her surroundings, a frown tugging her lips. ‘I thought we were going to Rita’s.’

‘After last time,’ Rhys shared a secret smile with Cass, ‘they’ll appreciate not seeing us for a while.’

Azriel didn’t know what trouble his brothers had stirred this time, but he resisted his words as he followed them down the cobblestone path he knew all too well. Without sparing even a courteous look at him, his family entered Pharus and went to his usual table as though it hadn’t been their plan all along, as though his mate wasn’t sitting on the dais right in front of him.

Ayla was alone that night. She strummed a tune on her lute, and at the first sound from her lips, every conversation died in the room, every patron straining to listen to her instead. 

Pretty things that did pretty things.

Azriel was convinced he had learnt everything about her from his secret visits. But every time he met her, Ayla surprised him. What else could she do? Who was she beneath the stories he had gathered those months? He couldn’t tell if they were careless gossip from his server or curated tales from her loyal friend anymore. 

Her fingers fluttered along the strings, light and nimble, every note a perfection. With each delicate stroke, her body moved with the music like she couldn’t hold back, and as she did, her hair swayed too, teasing the corner of her smile. 

One day, Azriel imagined, he would take her in his arms and brush those treacherous strands away. His heart tightened at the vision—the intimacy of being so close to her, to touch her so gently, to reveal her beautiful face to him inch by inch.

If only he had used his mind for once instead of acting like a lustful prick.

Ayla had laughed for him. She had shown him a side of her that only a few were privileged to witness. She had extended a ray of hope with her truths, and he snuffed it out with one kiss.

When the fog of guilt and shame cleared later that night, Azriel realised he had failed once again. For each of his questions resolved, plenty more arose. How did she end up in Velaris? What of her family? With Hamra safe and away, was Ayla safe from the mystery woman too? If he had another chance, he might coax some answers from her without her games. But she wouldn’t let him close to her again, let alone trust him.

In a twisted way, he wasn’t surprised. When had he ever made right when it came to love?

Azriel almost laughed. He was mated to Ayla. He didn’t love her. He couldn’t, not yet. He wasn’t sure he knew what love was. His half-brothers had ripped his heart away when he was a boy, long before he learnt what the word meant. All his life, he only ever ‘loved’ one woman and she rejected him. She chose his brother over him for she saw what lurked under the surface, recognised what he was—a shroud disguising the darkness within.

Now his mate, would she reject him too if she knew the true scars deep under his skin?

Ayla took a breath between verses, and he shuddered. Her voice reeled him out of his fears. The weight in his chest loosened its grip with her every word, yet Azriel held onto the ache. What was he without his burdens? What could he be without this longing?

Slowly, as her song came to an end, his swirling thoughts settled too. For long minutes, not one spoke. Silence embraced the void her voice left behind.

Feyre and Cass looked away first, then Mor. When a gasp escaped Nesta, everyone turned to her, except Rhys. Silver sparkled in her eyes beneath the unshed tears as she clutched her chest. Cass spoke her name but her eyes remained on Ayla who padded down the steps. It was only when he placed a hand on her thigh, that she met his gaze with a smile.

His shadows awoke from their trance too. They slithered up his neck and chanted Ayla’s name in his ears. But Azriel’s attention was elsewhere. As conversations came alive and servers went around the room, Rhys watched Ayla. When she stopped in front of her office and talked to a female among a band of four, his violet eyes shone bright.

‘Rhys.’ Azriel called, interrupting him had he chosen to invade his mate’s mind again. Still, his brother didn’t tear his eyes away from her.

A frown creased between his brows before Rhys blinked. He turned to Feyre first—it had been she who pulled him out of his reverie—and then, Azriel. Neither of them spoke, aloud or in their minds. But a tension lingered in their stares. Feyre ran her palm down his arm and it brought a smile to his lips. He looked away first.

With the risk of other courts seeking someone from Velaris, Rhys was bound to get involved sooner or later. With the fae gone, he would have nothing to focus on except Ayla. And so, Azriel kept Hamra’s whereabouts to himself. As far as his brother was concerned, she was hiding somewhere in the city.

The faerie bowed her head and apologised, holding Ayla’s hand in hers, her cheeks flushing red, while her companions set up on the podium. Ayla nodded with a gentle smile—ever so gracious. She blinked and her eyes pinned on Azriel as though she’d expected to find him there, and his breath caught in his throat. 

Once the faerie left, she went to the bar.

‘Come with me.’ Nesta dragged him along before he had the chance to protest, and he swore his shadows aided her. She perched on a stool at one end of the counter, close to the office, making it impossible for Ayla to leave the room without walking past.

It was Raya who approached them though. ‘What can I get you?’

‘Could she serve us?’ Nesta glanced at Ayla. ‘She made me a drink last time and it was delicious, but I can’t remember its name. We were hoping she’d make it for us again.’ With her smile so earnest even Azriel found himself convinced.

Raya cut him a glare but spoke to Nesta, ‘Tell me how it looked. I’ll make it for you.’

‘I’ll take care of them,’ said Ayla softly, not looking up from the drinks she stacked on a tray. While Raya began to protest, Uri urged her with his eyes, then picked up the tray and waded through the crowded tables.

Watching the defeated bartender shuffle to the other end, Nesta remarked. ‘I thought they liked you here.’

‘Not anymore.’ He ignored her expecting gaze and sat beside her. 

No one was privy to what had transpired between him and Ayla, and he preferred it that way. When his family meddled, she seemed to slip away from him.

Minutes passed. She catered to every patron at the counter, ignoring him and Nesta, including the ones who came after them. Azriel glimpsed over his shoulder and found the glasses empty at their table. Cass hollered to Uri, yet the server turned around and talked to a couple who sneaked wary peeks at the ridiculous male waving his arm in the air. 

Azriel smiled at his mate. Keeping liquor from his family was one, and very efficient, way to encourage them to leave the bar.

At last, with no one else left to tend to, Ayla turned their way though she refused to meet his gaze. ‘What would you like to drink?’

‘You have a beautiful voice,’ said Nesta, her words whispered with a touch of awe.

‘Thank you,’ smiled Ayla. She stared for a moment and then blinked twice. ‘You sound good too.’

Nesta sucked in a breath. Compliments weren't meant for her. Everything she did was expected and never deemed worthy of praise. As though remembering her manners, she dipped her chin in a graceful nod.

‘How often do you sing?’ She inhaled sharply, ‘I mean, if I wish to listen to you again, when is it likely for it to happen, again?’

‘You can request to my bartender or the servers. If I’m here, they shall let me know.’

So, Azriel hadn’t been special. Yet, seeing her offer kindness to his friend without hesitation was endearing. Nesta pursed her lips as Cass came to stand beside him. The scent of citrus smothered him before Mor wedged herself between the two and wrapped an arm around him. ‘What are we having?’

Shadows scattered back to his wings. Azriel shifted in his seat, the hold on his shoulder growing unbearably heavy with each passing second. He peeked at Ayla but her focus remained on the glasses she was readying for them.

‘Not the one from the other night,’ Mor leaned over the counter and spied the ingredients she mixed. ‘I still haven’t forgiven you for that.’

Ayla offered the first drink to Nesta. ‘I don’t remember apologising. But, alright.’

Azriel shook with silent laughter and his shadows skittered down his arms. Mother, how had he gone two whole days apart from her?

‘Don’t worry about her. It’s easy to get into her good graces.’ Cass snorted, earning a vicious glare from Mor, but she soon smiled brightly when Ayla served her. ‘Just don’t take her wine from her.’

‘And why would I want to be in your graces?’

A laugh escaped Azriel. When he looked up, none of his friends were laughing with him, they only watched.

‘So,’ drawled Mor, ‘what do you think of our Az?’ Her arm tightened over his shoulder as she pressed closer.

Azriel glared at his brother silently cursing him for unleashing their disaster of a friend. 

The next drink was for Cass. Ayla poured another four and began setting them on a tray, ‘I don’t know enough about your Az to make a judgement.’ 

His name rolled off her tongue in a smooth caress. Blood rushed to his face, and between his legs.

‘Would you like to know enough?’ 

Azriel whirled to his other side where Nesta sat wearing a smirk. Why did they leave Rhys and Feyre behind? Why didn't they bring the whole entourage and embarrass him in front of his mate? 

But then, Ayla said, ‘He can ask that himself.’

Ask, his shadows urged. Ask. The words merged and weaved until all he heard were incoherent whispers. Ask.

Azriel was never at a loss for words, he simply chose not to say them aloud. But with her, he often found himself speechless. Nesta nudged him with her knee, a reminder that he still hadn’t spoken. He cleared his throat, and his friends had the decency to scramble. Cass ruffled his hair, making him hiss under his breath, before he and Mor wandered back to their table.

Nesta made to leave as well, watching them for a breath before staring into her drink. Almost a year had passed since she accepted them as family, yet she felt no less an outsider.

Ayla noticed Nesta’s hesitation and watched the two once they joined Rhys and Feyre. Laughter erupted, drinks flowed, and their eyes often drifted to Azriel.

‘You should dance,’ said Ayla. Nesta’s eyes snapped to her as she watched the ones swaying in front of the dais with a smile. ‘The band loves when people do.’ Right then, Uri appeared behind them with his usual smile and she nodded at him, ‘If you’re shy.’ 

How she knew about his friend or the server materialised at that very moment was a mystery.

While Nesta sat contemplating the offer, Ayla set a drink for him. ‘You two have a history.’ 

She was looking past him, where his family was, and Azriel knew who she meant.

A glass shattered across the bar, and Raya darted to the kitchen mumbling about needing a broom, although the smirk on her face was unmistakable.

Nesta choked on her drink. She quickly got to her feet and patted him on the back, ‘Don’t ruin it,’ as walked away with Uri.

Alone at long last, free from prying patrons and his meddlesome family and her vigilant friends. Yet, Azriel felt no relief. His shadows retreated behind him, barely peeking over his shoulders. Now that he was in a bind, they were silent as the dead.

‘Do you regret it?’ she asked quietly.

All night, Ayla wouldn’t meet his gaze, and now it dawned on him—she believed he regretted the kiss he’d dreamed of for months, his one true glimpse of boundless happiness in ages. And with Mor acting like Mor. . .Azriel couldn’t breathe.

‘I don’t.’ Her words nearly drowned in the chaos around them as she fussed with empty glasses on the counter. ‘Although I’d prefer you didn’t run away next time.’

His shadows fluttered around him, emboldened by her admission. Azriel let out a shuddering breath, the need to explain the past tightened in his chest. ‘It’s not how you think,’ he began. What were he and Mor if they were barely friends in name? What remained to say when nothing had existed between them? Instead, he settled on, ‘It was a long time ago.’

Her face was bare and calm. ‘How many long times ago are there?’ 

When he thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. It wasn’t a conversation he was willing to have with his mate in a bar, with his family undoubtedly listening in on them.

‘Two.’ His shadows hissed in his ears and sank behind him again.

Ayla took a slow breath. ‘And not long times ago?’

She pressed her lips together and they quivered. 

Azriel was a fool—an absolute, blind fool.

‘Well?’ She finally looked at him. The light in her eyes returned, brighter than ever. ‘That many, huh? How about in the past century?’

Azriel held in his smile.

Her eyes widened as Ayla faked a gasp. ‘How about the last fourteen months?’

Fourteen months ago, Azriel walked into Pharus for the first time, he saw his mate for the first time, he saw her smile for the first time. While he tortured himself with the misery of being invisible to her, she had remembered him.

Even the ones he called his friends didn’t know this part of him. And Ayla was unravelling him in mere seconds. A voice in his mind warned him to stop, to think, to run away. But he saw the grin on her face at his unease, the unbridled amusement on her face. 

‘Eight,’ he said and waited for an insult but none came. ‘What about you?’ 

‘One.’

Azriel’s brows rose. He knew there were more—more than eight—male and female, none she invited again. His shadows had whispered so during his secret trysts, and that was before the bond snapped for him.

His mind refused to believe her, yet his craving heart did. For a sweet moment, he tasted relief, then she ruined it.

‘Doesn’t sound fair, does it? Perhaps, we should get even.’

Next Chapter: Sinner

[lookingfts]

I miss you 🥺 will there be a new amazing Kanthony FanFic soon? I wanna cry again (since your stories always make me cry so much). I love you and your writing so much. Your Kathani always breaks my heart 😭 She is the sweetest.

Aw, thank you! I hope so. In the meantime, I wrote a little snippet of the regency affair fic.

“I met Lord Lumley’s sister today. She is quite lovely.”

Kate kept her voice steady, though each word corroded her throat like poison. Anthony’s fingers halted where they had been tracing paths over her stomach, both of them reveling in the peaceful silence. They did not have these moments often enough.

And she would destroy it. But only because she must.

He looked up at her through long lashes, his brow furrowing. That little dimple appearing on his forehead, the one she always ached to smooth out but found too endearing to touch. “I do not wish to speak of that.”

“We have to speak of it eventually.”

“No, we do not.” Anthony sat up against the headboard, his muscles flexing beautifully with the movement. She had her fill of him not twenty minutes ago, and yet her desire persisted. It was never enough. “I have already given you my opinion on the matter. It is settled.”

With a heavy heart, Kate huffed out a mirthless laugh. “Settled. You are in the prime of your life. The Ton’s most eligible bachelor. What will you do when they ask why you are not married? Why you have not borne an heir?” His eyes widened, and she realized that her voice was rising. She could not help it. He was forcing them to have this conversation again and again, refusing to listen to reason and free her from this burden. “You will marry. We both know it is the only outcome. So why will you not pick some capable young debutante and fulfill your duty?”

“And then what?” Anthony snapped, his jaw clenching. “I crawl into your bed while she waits at home with our children? You think so little of me, that I would neglect my wife the way he has neglected you? You cannot ask that of me. You cannot ask any of this from me.”

Anthony looked furious that she would dare compare him to her husband and crushed that she meant to throw him away, and she did not know how to fix either. She could not say the words that would truly soothe him. Dangerous confessions and promises that she could not keep.

“Do you think I want to?” Kate said brokenly, the fight draining out of her suddenly. He softened as well, swallowing to compose himself. “I will be miserable when you marry. I burn at the thought of you in another woman's arms. But you will not ruin your reputation, your prospects, your family by shackling yourself to me. I will not allow it.”

Kate thought perhaps she should fight as he pulled her into his lap, as easily as breathing, his large hand coming to rest on her cheek. His eyes were impossibly beautiful, dark and determined and filled with a depth of emotion that could not be measured. And she was abhorrently selfish to bask in it, to soak up his love and devotion, because she could give him a mere fraction of what he deserved. She could not give him her hand or bear his children. She could not be his Viscountess, even if that vision was what played across her dreams each night. “This is not ruin, Kate. This is salvation.”